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mountswhore · 3 years

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𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 — mason mount

summary: after your breakup, mason realises just how much you need him. and how much he needs you too.

warnings: mentions of drinking, slight mentions of drugs, swearing, angst

requests are open!

It had been a month since your breakup, and you were at an all time low. But you couldn’t let Mason or anyone else know that. Luckily, you lived alone. So you had your own flat to mope about in, before painting on your fake smile and leaving for whatever errands you had that day. Your breakup was… unfair. Mason treated you like a toy, thinking he could just drop you and then pick you up just as quick. But you weren’t having it anymore.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you laughed in disbelief at the words your boyfriend was spewing, “you’re really doing this to me, again?” Mason just stood with a stone cold face in front of you, in the comfort of his own living room.

“Y/N, believe me when I say I didn’t want to do this.” Mason consoled, taking a step forward. “You’re a distraction to my career, I barely see you. What would be the point of this anymore?” His words were like bullets, your chest full of holes and you were bleeding on the floor. But Mason was just staring back at you.

“I’m a distraction to your career. Lovely.” You mentioned, pushing past him and grabbing your bag from the stairs. Mason tried to stop you, he wanted to talk this out. “For the love of God, stop trying to hold me back. What is there to say? Or do you just want to ease your conscience? If you’re going to break up with me, be a man and own it. Leave me alone.”

With that you left, and you hadn’t spoken since.

You were going to meet a good friend for lunch, a WAG, but your breakup with Mason didn’t affect your friendship. She was adamant on it, saying, “just because Mason dumped your fine ass, doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with you. He’ll just have to deal with it.” You’d gone to your usual place, waiting in the foyer for her before booking a table together.

“How’ve you been, doll?” Abigail asked, putting her bag down beside her. “You know, considering.” You nodded, putting your fake smile to good use.

You let out a small giggle. “Good, yeah. I’ve been focusing on my work, which I should’ve been doing from the jump. I think I’m really making progress.” Abigail just nodded and smiled.

She didn’t seem the least bit frightened to say what she said, as she’d heard how you felt. “Good, because you’re coming to a party this weekend.”

“What?”

“A party.”

“Yeah I heard you,” you groaned, “are we sixteen- years old? Or am I just growing quicker than the rest of you?”

“Oh shh,” Abigail sighed, digging into her food that had now arrived with yours. Every time you came here, she got the carbonara. “Look, you said you’re making progress, and I want to have fun with my best friend again. And if I’m honest, all the other girls just aren’t as good of a laugh as you.”

“Thanks for the ego boost.” You added, smiling a genuine smile at her. You were still thinking heavily about this party, where was it? When was it? Who was going?

“Clear your weekend. It’s this Saturday, at some private lounge in London.” Abigail stated, twirling her fork once again. “It’s the England squad celebrating something or another, I don’t know. Dec told me about it.” The reason the pair of you were so close, was mainly because of your boyfriends being so close. Declan knew that his girlfriend was still friends with you and planned on keeping that, he’d always ask about you.

“Right. I’ll see if I can work overtime on Thursday to make up for my weekend off.” You mentioned.

So it was settled. You’d be going to a party with Abigail and the England squad. You weren’t the least bit excited, the only fraction you were was purely because you’d be seeing Abigail. You had your dress, you’d worked your overtime, and you were on your way to this private lounge in London. No matter how nice looking this lounge was, you’d always feel out of place. You were wearing your nicest dress, tallest heels, and Abigail had even done your hair and makeup.

“How are you, Y/N? You doing okay?” Declan asked, in the seat beside Abigail. You were sharing a taxi, Abi in the middle. Both you and Dec on either end. It was quite awkward, to see Declan. To know that he still speaks to Mason.

“Yeah, I’m doing good. How’s football going for you?” You asked. You despised small talk, it make you want to throw up. But it was only being polite to Dec. Declan mumbled a similar answer and paid attention to his phone. A text from Abigail appeared.

I don’t think she’s okay.

Declan wrote back to his girlfriend: I was thinking the same thing.

The three had gotten to the private lounge, Abi promising to not leave your side. You spent the first hour with her, constantly drinking to increase your confidence. Abi had finally left you, like you knew she would, but you weren’t mad. She’s here for her boyfriend, it’s only right she spends it with him. So now you were the loner at the bar, downing shot after shot.

Mason was sulking around like a shadow, holding tightly onto his mixer and speaking to some of his teammates. He’s not even sure why he came, all he knew was Declan forced him. And yet Declan had barely spoke to to him all evening. His mixer was empty, so he made his third beeline for the bar this evening. And saw you.

His heart had began beating irregularly, clammy hands almost dropping the cup he had. Why was he so nervous to see the ex he dumped? Luckily, you were occupied with talking to Jesse, so he could quickly grab his drink and leave. He found himself staring at you during his wait, how you laughed so genuinely with Jesse. You always did. He was one of your closest friends and now talking to him felt awkward because of your breakup. You looked at Jesse so happily, he wished it was him. It was a stupid thing to wish, considering he dumped you.

What had dumping you even done for him?

“Mount. Whatever the hell has happened to you outside of training, undo it. You’re off today.”

“Mase, why haven’t you been as on par as you usually are?”

“You keep playing like this and you’re being benched next game.”

Nothing. The answer was nothing. He was told he wasn’t playing well, saw you as an issue and dumped you. And now he plays worse. He’d been benched on his second game, overlooked by his manager due to his lack of focus in training. It was horrible. But you told him to leave you alone, he could never forget the look on your face. The look of exhaustion, of being dumped and picked back up again.

Mason had zoned back in, seeing you looking at him rather lazily. You looked drunk, high, or both. Jesse had gone, and you were throwing the shots back. You made it a game. Every time you had a good Mason thought, you’d have a shot. If it was bad, or any thought at all, you’d be having your stomach pumped by the end of the night.

Mason watched the bartender pour straight vodka into your cup, and then watched you stagger away to the stairs. The stairs led up to toilets, and were empty and quiet. Perfect. You collapsed onto the stairs, still sipping on your vodka before laying your head onto a step. You didn’t know Mason had followed you until you felt his hands on your arms.

“Come on, we’re going home.” He declared, holding you around your waist. You frowned at him, trying your best to use your half-working limbs to push him away from you.

“We’re? No, you are going home. I’m staying here.” You slurred, downing the rest of your drink and throwing the cup at his head. You laughed at the face he made, finally freeing you and you returned to your seat on the stairs. “You aren’t my dad, or my boss, or my friend. So leave me alone.”

“You’re off your face. So you’re going home.” He reaffirmed with you, folding his arms. You just shook your head again, looking up at him. You were having good Mason thoughts again, seeing just his face stare down at you. It made you want to cry and throw up.

“Get me a drink.” Mason left after your instructions, returning with a cup. You had downed it, waiting for the warm throat and slight burn. But nothing. “Not water, you asshole.” Mason kept a stone cold face with you, resting against the wall beside the door. Nobody had come into the toilet and you wished they had now. You needed someone to save you from happy Mason thoughts.

“So how is football? You must be scoring goals left and right.” You jested, tipping your head back and laughing. “Right?” Mason sat down beside you in defeat, knowing this wouldn’t be an easy conversation with you. It would end in you crying, or leaving, or both.

“No, actually.” Mason admitted. “I’m doing rubbish. My friends know I’m off my game, the gaffer knows I’m off my game. It’s atrocious.” You stared at him, kind of feeling bad but then remembering what he did to you. All those times he’d break up with you, just to say he missed you a few days later. If you were being honest with yourself, you thought it would happen again. But a month had passed, and nothing.

“Oh.” It was all you could say. Knowing what he did was for no reason, it had no benefits whatsoever. Your life had been completely thrown out of balance for nothing. It made you mad all over again. “So you’re telling me you broke up with me, and nothing good came of it?”

Mason hated to admit it. “Yes.” He spoke quietly, ashamed of the answer he was putting out there. “I was actually told to fix whatever happened outside of training, in an effort to make me better again.” You should be laughing in his face, glad he’s been royally fucked over after he royally fucked you over. But instead, you held your hands to your face to hide your tears.

“Hey,” Mason hushed, pulling you into his side. He knew you’d had a lot to drink, so maybe your emotions were all over the place, “don’t cry about it, you don’t need to be upset.” Why was he being like this? He broke up with you, why did he care how you were now?

“What’s happened to us?” You cried, pulling away from him. Just because you were at a low, doesn’t mean he can swoop in. “Ever since we broke up, it seems our lives have been shit.”

Mason laughed through the pain, resting his elbows on the step behind him. He’d tried to avoid his feelings instead of confront them, but it proved difficult when you had showed up. “I might be benched for the next game, or better yet, be taken from the squad.”

You shook your head. No matter how much you hated him at this very point, you couldn’t deny the man’s talent. “You deserve that spot on the team. There’s a reason you start for England every time. Don’t doubt yourself because something bad happened to you.”

Mason took your words and remembered them, keeping them in his head for the rest of the night. “Come here.” He put an arm around you and held you tight, sighing as your heads rested together. “I’m sorry I did this to you. I shouldn’t have left you, I had issues with myself and saw you as the problem instead. I’m really sorry.”

“I just don’t think I can take it again.” You confessed, laying your head in his lap and keeping your eyes closed. “I can’t take being broken up with again, only for you to end up in my bed a few days later. It hurts me everytime, Mase.” Mason was rubbing your back, hating himself for the way he made you feel before. And he hadn’t seen an issue with it, he treated you like it was okay to use you as an emotional rag doll.

“You don’t have to jump straight into it,” he whispered, hands now smoothing your hair out of your face, “you can take as long as you need to trust me again. But I’m telling you it’ll never happen again, I’ll never throw you about like I did before. It was reckless of me and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Mase.” You sighed, the weight finally freeing your chest. You could finally move forward with your life, and choose whether or not to take Mason with you. It wasn’t an answer you needed to know now, it could take it’s time. And Mason was willing to wait.

#money mase #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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redorich · 3 years

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for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #grian #ethoslab #stressmonster #zombiecleo #captain puffy #joe hills #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #awesamdude #me.cpp #me.txt

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writerpeach · 3 years

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Services

SNSD Tiffany x Male Reader

6066 words

---

Read on AFF

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The knock at the door startled you more than expected.

It was shortly after 10 p.m. when you heard it, tossing your phone to the side as it landed on the nightstand. You made an effort to lift yourself off the mattress, heading towards the brown wooden door and took a deep breath before letting it out and unlocked it, turning the doorknob and swinging it open.

“Good evening, sir.”

Standing on the other side of the door was a raven-haired beauty of a woman with a gorgeous smile, dressed in a tight turtleneck sweater and equally tight skirt that showed off her voluptuous figure, black stockings and high heels that accentuated her luscious slender legs.

“You must be Tiffany.”

“That’s correct, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied, flashing a smile filled with confidence that put you at ease.

“Please come in,” you said, holding the door open for her as she stepped in, the loud clack of her heels filling the room with every step. You grabbed the ‘do not disturb’ sign, placing it on the opposite side of the doorknob before shutting it gently and locking it tight.

It had been a while since you had been with a woman, though not for lack of trying. You were in constant demand at work, and your job didn’t allow the luxury to meet anyone, let alone find the time to get to know them enough. There were plenty of attractive women who flirted with you in your office, but you wanted to remain professional and refused to spur any advances so as to not cause a company-wide scandal were things to go wrong.

“You can have a seat if you’d like,” you said, gesturing to the spacious bed nearby as the dark-haired woman took you up on your offer and sat down on the edge, crossing her gorgeous creamy legs and placed her purse to the side.

Before joining her you grabbed an unmarked white enveloped off the kitchen counter, stuffed to the brim and handed it to her. She took a brief glance inside before graciously accepting it and tucking it into her luxury purse.

“Thank you, sir. Now tell me, what can I do for you tonight?”

It was almost an entire week's worth of pay, but you knew as soon as you opened the door and met Tiffany face to face that you had made the right decision.

“I’d like you to make me feel good.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said, placing a hand on your thigh and gently caressing it as she gazed into your eyes, giving a look of reassurance.

“Everything has been paid for, including the extra amount for anal. You have my services for the next hour, I’ll do whatever you’d like.”

If there was any nervous tension left in your body it had all just vanquished into the air.

“Perfect. Strip for me, Tiffany. Keep the heels on.”

You had been dying to see every inch of her body since the moment you laid eyes on her and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Of course, sir,” she said as she rose from the mattress, spinning around to let you get a full view of her amazing body. With a sensual look in her eyes she unzipped the back of her skirt and removed her top from her body, hastily wiggling out of her skirt as she let both fall to the ground aimlessly.

Your mouth salivated uncontrollably as Tiffany was left in a matching set of lacey pink lingerie, showing off the plentiful curves of her body. Such a perfect woman was blessed with luscious thighs, a tight toned midriff and a beautiful set of tits, although not the biggest they were plenty big enough to fit into your hands. The bright colors of her undergarments contrasted with the dark garments on the floor as she beamed with confidence as your eyes feasted on her with hunger.

With her hands on her wide hips Tiffany let your eyes sample her body, preparing you for the main course that was about to be served for you. She quickly unhooked her bra, tossing it away and ran her small hands up her upper body before giving her exposed tits a quick squeeze, pinching her hardening nipples. Her milky tits were divine, the perfect size and shape for her body type and you felt your pants tightening at the sight of them,

“Like what you see so far?” Tiffany asked, giggling cutely as her fingers played with her rosy pink nipples.

“I do. When I asked for the best they weren’t kidding around.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure you get your money's worth."

Tiffany ran her hands over the exposed flesh of her body, lifting her arms up over her head to give you the perfect view. There was just one thing left, and she wasn't going to make you wait for it as she spun on her heels and bent over, letting you see her tight ass almost fully exposed in the skimpiest thong nestled in between soft looking milky cheeks of her backside.

You weren't prepared as Tiffany slowly peeled her thong off her wide hips and down her long legs, kicking it away as her beautiful pussy was revealed.

“Shaved clean as requested.”

The pink flesh between Tiffany's thighs was mouthwatering, and you couldn't hold back as you brought two fingers and rubbed her pink slit, feeling the wetness present already.

“Nice and wet for you already,” Tiffany said as she turned around to face you, the constant smile plastered on her face as her newly naked body was all yours to gawk over as your eyes roamed over every inch of bare skin.

"God, you're absolutely perfect," you said, unable to stop staring at her tight body for a second. If Tiffany was the top of the line when it came to escorts, you were kicking yourself for not hiring one before if they were all even half as hot as she was.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Now, what else can I do for you, sir?”

There was a small part of you that just wanted to bend her over the bathroom counter and finish inside her within just minutes, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy that as much and you certainly wouldn’t get your money’s worth. You wanted this to be a memorable experience.

“I want you to suck my cock.”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up at your request as if you had just named one of her favorite things to do.

“I’d love to, sir. Why don’t you get comfortable for me?”

It would take getting used to this, having Tiffany obeying practically anything you wanted without question. You scooted back onto the bed, fixing the pillows the way you liked it before laying on your back and awaited what was next. Tiffany was eagerly one step behind, carefully climbing the bed in nothing but heels and a smile.

You settled yourself in and felt the comforting weight of Tiffany on your body, her beautiful face inches away from yours as she leaned in to kiss you, her lips ridiculously soft. Her small hands unbuttoned your shirt, exposing your chest little by little.

“Has it been a while?” Tiffany asked, opening your shirt all the way up to fully reveal your bare torso to her as she licked your bare chest.

Maybe she could sense it or see it in your eyes, all you knew was you missed everything about this. Tiffany took your silence as an answer, planting another kiss on your lips while playing with your bare chest.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll make sure to take good care of you, sir,” she said as she leaned back and grabbed a handful of your bulge that had been poking through your pants, feeling the outline with both of her petite hands.

“How do you like your dick sucked?” she asked, a question you certainly hadn’t been asked before. She felt up more of your bulge before growing impatient and unzipping your pants.

“I’m not picky. Do you have a gag reflex, Tiffany?”

She shook her head as she yanked your pants off, tossing them off the side of the bed as your bulge poked more prominent through the fabric of your boxers, desperately wanting to escape.

“Not even a little bit. I can go as deep as you’d like, sir,” she said, wanting to offer a demonstration as she practically ripped your boxers off your body, freeing your rock hard shaft to the air as her eyes widened.

“You have a very nice cock,” Tiffany said, hungrily eyeing your exposed cock as her warm delicate hands caressed your bare thighs, sending more blood to your aching shaft.

Tiffany licked her lips and wrapped one hand around your stiff shaft, letting the other rest on your thigh as she gently pumped it, spitting on it several times as she made it glistening wet with her warm saliva.

“I’m going to make you feel very good, sir.”

Time was of the essence here, and Tiffany didn’t waste any as she got straight to work, giving a few teasing licks before parting her lips and taking you into the warmth of her mouth, sucking on the first few inches of your cock.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned, overwhelmed with the heavenly sensations as Tiffany sucked you off, never breaking eye contact as her heavenly soft lips wrapped around your cock and her cheeks hollowed. The pleasure was intense, and with a few short movements she pushed her lips deeper and deeper until she had taken every inch down her tight throat, resting her wet mouth at the base of your cock.

“Oh my god, Tiffany,” you said, struggling to keep your senses in check as she kept your cock warm inside her mouth, squeezing the muscles in her throat to add stimulation without any struggle whatsoever. When her lips slid back down, she repeated the same act with ease, taking you all the way down as your tip hit the back of her throat and tightened around it as if it demonstrating her prowess.

You couldn’t help but let out a series of groans and moans, the feeling of your shaft stuffed inside Tiffany’s mouth as she worked a face pace, bobbing her head rapidly and slurping on every inch.

“You’re so good at that, f-fuck.”

“It’s all part of the job, sir. I love pleasing you. It helps when you have such a yummy cock,“ Tiffany said as she dove right back, lips going wild on your cock.

The pleasure was driving you insane as she kept her hungry eyes on you, using her lips and tongue to pleasure you. She used long strokes from base to tip effortlessly, not gagging once even as you hit the back of her throat several times.

Maybe she was an expert at blowjobs due to her job or her natural skills, either way you were lost in bliss. This went on for several breathtaking seconds as she continued slobbering on your cock, becoming progressively sloppier with each bob of her head as she covered your shaft in drool, some of it spilling out of the corners of her lips and dripping on the stunning features of her face.

“You like it when a messy little slut sucks your cock?”

Your only response came in loud moans as her oral assault never ceased, something you were thankful for but at the same time it became difficult to handle. It had been too long since you had gotten a blowjob that felt so good you felt it everywhere, and you’d give up an entire month’s paycheck for incredible head like this.

Tiffany was nothing but a consummate professional when it came to sucking your cock, she knew just what to do with her talented mouth, making sure to keep her pretty eyes on you to make sure you were enjoying it all.

“Can’t leave any part out,” she said, exploring your shaft with her wet tongue until she arrived at your sensitive balls, painting each one in succession before tenderly sucking them individually. With even more hunger Tiffany slurped on them just as loud and messily as she did your shaft, keeping your wet cock in her hands as she stroked it at the same time, wanting to give as much wanton pleasure as possible.

“That feels so fucking good.”

“I’m glad. Would you like a little extra, sir?”

You weakly forced out a nod, and she gave a few more loud messy slurps as her tongue ran lazy circles around your balls. You weren’t sure what she meant but you quickly found out as she lowered her head and you felt her tongue teasing the tip of your untouched hole, causing your entire body to jerk at the suddenness.

“H-holy s-shit,” you moaned, the intense sensation felt so new and foreign as Tiffany explored more of your hole, pushing her wet tongue inside your ass all while she kept a strong grip on your cock, pumping it slowly as she stimulated as many parts of your body as she could.

You had never felt anything like this, your cock leaked all over Tiffany’s slender fingers as she rimmed you, the sensations so sharp and intense you were losing all control. Tiffany practically was thrusting her tongue inside your hole with her tongue and looking up at you with a constant look of determination, trying to wring out every ounce of pleasure she could.

Desperate gasps and moans grew louder as Tiffany went wild. Slow pleasurable licks grew into long deep swirls of her tongue as she buried her tongue inside, making out with your tight hole and hitting all the sensitive nerves as she quickly coated it with her warm saliva.

It took everything you had not to erupt right then, something she seemed to sense as she slowly her pace down. Tiffany licked from your taint to the tip of your cock repeatedly before forming a fist around your needy cock and slowly jerking you off.

“T-that was incredible,” you said, your labored breathing making it hard to speak clearly. You felt grateful for the respite on your body as Tiffany gave slow circles around your swollen tip, rubbing that sweet spot on the underside of your shaft.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that, sir. Are you ready to fuck me yet?” she asked, smiling brightly as she lazily stroked your cock.

“Absolutely.”

“Good, how do you want me, sir?”

So many choices, but so little time. You wanted to take her on every surface in your hotel room, but you would have to narrow it down a bit. You grabbed her hips, gesturing for her to get off you as you laid her on her side, marveling at the beauty of her naked body. You ran your fingers through her wet folds, playing with her pretty pussy before joining her and laying down beside her.

“Good choice. This is one of my favorite positions.”

You grabbed a hip and made sure her legs were closed, rubbing your tip through her slick pussy lips to feel her warmth. Her flesh felt so silky soft already that you knew you were in for a treat as you aimed yourself at her opening, unprepared for the sensations awaiting your body.

“Shove it all inside me. Don’t hold anything back, sir.”

“Do you like it rough, baby?” you asked as you nudged your tip against her warm entrance, pushing yourself inside her warm wet hole as you entered her with a loud moan.

“F-fuck, yes. I love being fucked rough. If I can still walk out of here you haven’t gotten your money's worth."

Tiffany shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes beckoning you to take her as you pushed in deeper. Her walls gripped you tightly, a tightness that surprised you given that Tiffany was paid to sleep with people on a regular basis, but it was more than welcome and you needed more of it.

"You're so big, sir. Keep going, stretch my tight little pussy out.."

Tiffany felt so wet and warm, her pussy squeezing your throbbing shaft that you found it easy to slide all the way inside her, bottoming her out. Given her earlier words you didn’t allow any time for adjustment and began delivering rough thrusts, burying yourself inside her to the hilt.

“Just like that, use my tight pussy. It’s all for you, sir,” Tiffany said as your pace quickened and you began slamming into her tight cunt, earning more moans as you fucked her with purpose.

Your hands weren’t kept idle, keeping a hand on her waist as you snaked the other under her body, reaching underneath her arm and grabbed a handful of her breast, squeezing the soft flesh as you pounded away.

The position you took her in was perfect, granting you constant eye contact with the sultry vixen you were driving yourself as deep as you could, letting you see all her curves while giving additional intimacy that something missionary could never offer.

“Like those tits?” Tiffany asked, an unnecessary question as your fingers were kneading into her soft flesh, playing with the stiff nipple that you found.

“I love them. They’re beautiful,” you said, and you wish that you had time to feast on them, but given you only had an hour you had more important things you wanted to do to her.

“Play with yourself for me, baby,” you ordered, as you grabbed one of her soft thighs and lifted her leg into the air, granting access to her pretty little cunt. She obliged without hesitation and brought a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow delicate circles.

“You feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder, sir,” she said, her eyes glued to you as you continued playing with her breasts, using more power in your hips as you began pounding away into her tight cunt that demanded more.

You hadn’t been inside her for that long, but Tiffany was already dripping wet, your shaft covered in her sweet nectar which aided every thrust and made every movement silky smooth that you wanted to stay inside her forever.

There were a lot of benefits to this position, the most prominent being able to roam Tiffany’s body as you fucked her, getting lost in her curves as you looked at every inch of bare skin from her pretty face all the way down to her feet.

“How’s that pussy feel? Tight enough for you?” Tiffany asked, every thrust of your shaft rocking her slender body that made the bed shake in rhythm.

“Feels so fucking good. Should have done this a long time ago,” you said as you upped your pace even more, harshly smacking your hips against her bare skin, the needy sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room.

“You fuck me so well. My pussy is getting so stretched by such a big cock, oh fuck! I’m c-close, can I cum, sir?”

She didn’t need permission, but you appreciated her asking for it. Her professionalism knew no end.

“Of course. Cum for me, Tiffany,” you said, giving even harder thrusts into her body as the bed smacked against the wall. You felt bad for whoever was on the other side of the wall, but that guilt dissipated shortly as you pounded into her, every thrust balls deep into her wet and enjoyable warmth.

Tiffany didn’t take long to achieve climax, her pussy pulsating around you shaft wildly as your hips pistoned, her body taking every hard thrust and accepting it with ease. She came loudly, the entire bed shaking as her body gave in as her toes curled, ecstasy hitting her from all sides as she was turned into a puddle of pleasure.

You didn’t let up as you fucked Tiffany straight through her orgasm, the intense pleasure doing a number on her as she let out multiple needy moans and gasps. Your cock drowned in her juices as you kept thrusting, only letting up once you felt her high had run its course.

“T-that was amazing, sir. You really know how to fuck a woman.”

Tiffany’s glazed over eyes looked weakly at you as you gave a half-dozen more thrusts before leaving the comfort of her warmth, watching your shaft covered with her juices glistening in the lights.

“I’m just getting started. I’d love to fuck you from behind. Bend over for me, please.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

Tiffany didn’t waste any time as she faced the foot of the bed, getting herself into position on her hands and knees. Her sinful body was all yours for the taking, that perfectly round ass of hers raised in the air as her head was flat on the mattress.

The view you saw in front of you was absolutely perfect as you ran your hands all over Tiffany’s body, feeling the material of her stockings and squeezing her buttcheeks as your fingers dug into her soft flesh. Her body was an absolute work of art, blessed with pristine milky skin from head to toe that you wish you had the entire night just to lick every inch of her.

“You like fucking a girl with heels on?”

“It’s one of my favorite things.”

“I like it too, it makes me feel sexy. Now shove that cock back inside me, sir.”

Not wanting to spend any time outside her than what was necessary, you took your shaft into one hand and rubbed it against her wet pussy, the abundant wetness making itself known as your aching shaft sank inside into her tight hole, causing a shared moan.

Tiffany felt even better as you entered her from behind, much tighter and wetter as her slick walls clung around your shaft as if they desperately wanted you trapped inside her. Placing a hand on each of her delicious hips, your hands squeezed her soft flesh as you began to move, thrusting just as deep as you did before as those beautiful moans of hers filled your eardrums.

It took some time for your body to process everything, the sensations almost too much to bear as you fucked Tiffany’s tight body from behind. The hot dripping flesh wrapped so tightly around your cock, squeezing so harshly as you slammed into her warm hole, it was all so heavenly and a moment you wanted to freeze in time.

After several breaths you found a rhythm that you liked, the warmth of Tiffany’s tight cunt driving you crazy as her erotic moans endlessly left her sultry lips, desperately pleading for more.

You needed a distraction from the pleasure flooding your senses as your hands explored her body, touching as much bare skin as you could. Exploring everywhere from her bare shoulders to her toned back, you were once again drawn to her breasts, giving the soft mounds a firm squeeze, kneading the soft flesh until your hands were back to her wonderful ass.

It was an explosion of pleasure being this deep inside Tiffany, feeling every last bit of her pussy with your throbbing hungry shaft as you pounded her to the hilt.

You wanted more of this sexual woman, you desperately needed more than what you were taking from her as you reached down just above her currently filled slit and teased her puckered hole with your thumb.

The moan you heard from Tiffany signaled she not only enjoyed this but wanted more. You were happy to indulge her as you let spit fall out of your lips and land inside her tight rim as you pushed your thumb inside her forbidden area.

You pushed past your knuckle and pumped slowly in rhythm as you gently opened her up, giving yourself a sample of how tight her other hole was.

“Do you like taking it in the ass?” you asked, pushing in as deep as your thumb could go as the rim of her ass invited you in.

“Fuck yes, sir. But I want more than just your thumb inside my ass.”

You would be more than happy to help her with that as you gave her your final round of thrusts inside her pussy, slowly withdrawing from her warmth in preparation of what the next step was.

“There’s lube in my purse.”

You grabbed her expensive purse that had been forgotten on its side, opening it up and trying not to snoop around as you found a clear bottle of liquid tucked away at the bottom.

“A woman always comes prepared. Even when I’m not working,” Tiffany said, flashing her bright smile again as she looked over her shoulder while you lined up your lubed cock with the rim of her ass.

The instant you felt flesh on flesh you felt your breath being taken away as you nudged against Tiffany’s ass and took a deep breath in preparation.

“It’s been a few days since I’ve gotten a request for anal. I’ve been craving it so badly, I can’t wait to feel how that cock feels inside my ass.”

You couldn’t wait any longer, pushing your hips forward as your cock slipped inside her warm and suffocatingly tight asshole, disappearing in between her cheeks. Startly slowly, you penetrated her with the tip of your cock before shoving the entirety of your length inside, every inch of your throbbing shaft being squeezed firmly.

“Holy shit, that’s fucking tight,” you moaned, not offering her time to adjust the thick flesh inside her as you wanted her opened up without hesitation. Tiffany didn’t seem to mind one bit as her hands scrambled to wrap her slender fingers around the bed sheets, letting out satisfied moans of pleasure as you pumped away.

Your hands found their rightful place on her wide hips once more and you watched intently as you buried your shaft to the hilt inside her shapely ass, every motion you made intensified by the grippingly tight hole that swallowed up your cock.

You established a furious pace, even harsher than when you had been inside her pussy as the overwhelming tightness surrounded the entirety of your shaft. Every loud smack of your hips caused her asscheeks to ripple, your balls slapping against her dripping cunt as she shouted out louder in deep bliss.

The rhythm was harsh and merciless, in and out your cock speared Tiffany’s tight asshole repeatedly as you were able to fuck her with ease, stuffing her perfect little ass with as much cock as would fit, unleashing a torrent of rough thrusts that shook the entire bed.

“Is this what you like, Tiffany? Being a good little slut for me?”

“Y-yes, sir, I love how deep you are, I feel so fucking full. I don’t want you to stop until you’re satisfied.”

Tiffany had satisfied you plenty already, but you wanted to hold her to her words, and you weren’t done with her. You went all in, using Tiffany’s body for your own pleasure and let your animalistic urges take over, thrusting into her tight ass with every amount of force and energy you had in you.

It was rough, loud, and certainly pleasurable to fuck her at such an extreme pace, wondering if you had started to hurt her but the never-ending stream of moans that escaped her throat signaled the opposite.

“Oh fuck, It feels so good!”

“You like your ass being fucked like this? God, you’re still so fucking tight!

“Y-yes! I love my tight little asshole being stretched, please keep using me!”

Tiffany’s pleading words were the very encouragement you needed to use the remaining strength you had. If this was the first use of her services, you might need to make weekly appointments with her.

You wanted to take more pleasure from Tiffany’s willing body as you grabbed her slender arms and locked them behind her, driving your cock deep inside her hot little asshole knowing the end would soon be near for you.

Tiffany’s noise of pleasure intensified as the use of her arms to find any sort of purchase was taken away from her, giving in and losing any self of control as you gave the harshest thrusts into her ass you could muster with only the goal of climax in mind.

With a bruising grip on her slim wrists you held her arms in place, furiously thrusting into her warm hole carelessly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you mercilessly used Tiffany’s body, feeling a knot tightening in your abdomen.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” you growled, the words almost involuntarily slipping out of your lips as the pressure boiling inside your body was quickly becoming too much, pistoning wildly into her ass and desperately chasing your orgasm.

“Please cum for me, sir. Cum wherever you would like.”

It took you some time to figure out where just where you wanted to do that, as each subsequent thrust brought you closer and closer to orgasm. The thought of spilling your seed in her tight ass was very appealing, but painting that gorgeous face of hers with your thick load was irresistible and won out in the end.

With the final decision made you gave into your desires, savoring the last bit of hammering thrusts inside her ass until your limits had been reached and you withdrew from her now gaping hole, hopping off the bed.

“Come here, get on your knees. Hurry up.”

Tiffany scurried to join your position, excitedly getting on her knees on the side of the bed for you without wasting any time. Both of you knew you didn’t have long as you slowly stroked your cock, aiming it at her perfect features.

“Cum all over my face, sir. Please, I know you’re just dying to make a mess all over me.”

The copious amount of dirty talk that left Tiffany’s lips was the tipping point, her eyes staring up at you as her hands caressed your thighs, rubbing them up and down and trying to urge your orgasm.

“F-fuck, Tiffany, I’m cumming!”

“Cover me, sir! I need your cum so badly, please cum all over me!”

You held her head with your free hand, keeping her in place as the moment you both had been waiting for arrived. With just a few more strokes you unloaded all over her face. You sprayed her forehead with thick hot spurts of semen, then her cheeks and nose, finally ending with her lips until she was thoroughly glazed, smiling the entire time until not a single drop remained.

When she had earned every last drop from she took your still pulsating shaft from you, sucking your tip to make sure nothing was left, as the generous load you left staining her features slowly dripped down her face.

“Thank you, sir,” Tiffany said with the biggest smile on her face as she licked her lips, trying to taste the fresh warmth that had been deposited on her skin. Her features now coated with thick cream had never looked better, accentuating her stunning visuals as the happiness in her eyes now clearly visible.

Her slender fingers wrapped around your sensitive shaft, running her hands from base to tip and giving a firm squeeze.

“You’re still hard?” Tiffany asked, giving your balls a firm tug.

“You’ve got ten minutes left, sir. Think you can go for another round?”

Trying to catch your breath you let out a gentle nod as Tiffany looked on in delight, her face still stained with your generous load and she had never looked prettier.

“Perfect! I’ll go cleaned up and you can take a break. Meet me in the shower whenever you’re ready.”

Tiffany was as bubbly and bright as ever as she left your sight, her wide hips swaying as she disappeared into the bathroom.

✦✦

The hot steamy shower was the perfect backdrop, accompanied by the sound of running water and desperate gasps and moans. If the bedroom had been the main course this was the much needed dessert to satisfy your appetite.

Tiffany had the energy of a woman who seemingly could go all night, and you were lucky for just an hour of her time,

She had an insatiable look in her eyes, as her legs spread wide for easy access as you held on to each of her supple cheeks with your palms, pinning her body against the cold shower door as you repeatedly bounced her on your wet cock.

The echoing shower walls were filled with equal parts lustful noises and steam as you carried her weight, driving yourself again and again into her pussy as the hot water sprayed down your naked bodies.

Tiffany’s energetic expression had been turned into lust and desire as her hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, taking every inch into her body with ease and demanding more and more.

The sounds of hot flesh against flesh spurred your loins as you gave a final set of thrusts before setting her back down, letting her bare feet touch the shower tile for a moment before you spun her around, inserting yourself into her tightness once more.

Neither of you said a word as you once again pinned Tiffany’s body to the shower door, communicating only in pleasurable moans as her breasts were smashed against the glass as you pistoned into her hole, grabbing onto a handful of hair for good measure.

Water droplets bounced off her skin in time with her rippling cheeks to the rhythm of just two people, weren’t going to last the full ten minutes, not that you needed to. This time you weren’t going to leave her warmth until you were done with her, you weren’t going to let her leave the steam-filled shower without your cum dripping down her thighs.

Your time in the shower seemed to last forever as you pounded Tiffany, trying to find your desired outcome. With your fingers wrapped in a bundle of rough ponytail while the other squeezed a hip, you took your final moments of pleasure from her and maintained constant desperation for your release.

“I’m going to cum inside you, Tiffany,” you said directly into her ear, not asking for permission, simply letting her know that she was only there to execute your whims as your hands roamed her delicious backside before finding their destination, giving a hard slap against her ass that caused her pussy to tighten around you.

“Please do, sir. Please cum inside me!”

It took little time at all as you slammed into her cunt, burying yourself to the hilt for the last few strokes, making each one count. Moaning loudly enough to overpower the water current you erupted, spilling your seed deep into Tiffany’s tight pussy and filling her insides with a plentiful flood of semen.

You thrusted until you couldn’t, emptying your balls inside the inviting woman’s hole while you throbbing wildly until you were drained, sending everything you had into her body. You barely had enough energy to stand as you rested your chin on her shoulder, letting go of the tight grip of her raven locks as they draped across her wet naked back.

Exhausted gasps echoed together as you slowly withdrew an inch at a time until she was no longer filled with flesh, your cum leaking out of her splayed pink lips and staining her beautiful thighs as it spilled onto the water underneath, washing itself away.

“You’re...amazing,” you weakly said, gasping between tired syllables.

“Just part of the job, sir.”

Tiffany spun around for you and let you gander once more at her naked body, and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time you saw her in this state as you both took your exit out of the shower.

You dried off and slipped into a fresh pair of boxers and took a seat on the bed. Tiffany joined shortly after, leaving the bathroom still filled with steam in a loosely tied bathrobe.

“Was everything satisfactory, sir?” she asked, disposing of the cotton white robe as she commenced the part of the night you were regretting, changing back into what she arrived in.

“Couldn’t ask for anything better, Tiffany. You were wonderful.”

“Thank you, sir. Call me if you need my services again.”

#snsd smut #tiffany smut #snsd #tiffany #reader insert #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

anything with jin zixuan marrying into the jiang sect, instead of jiang yanli marrying out?

ao3

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan didn’t love his mother – he did, he truly did. He loved her, he supported her, he stood by her side in every argument. He would do anything within his power to help her get everything that she wanted.

It was only that he took a very reasonable look at the circumstances and realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t get her the one thing she’d always counted for.

He couldn’t win the right of succession to be Sect Leader Jin.

Maybe if his mother had managed to stop his father from bringing home all his bastards – there were nineteen of them, all together, and those were just the ones that were willing to admit it so who even knew – he might’ve had a better chance, given that he was after all the sole legitimate son. But legitimacy only took you so far: he was neither the oldest of the children, nor the most capable, nor the most cunning. He wasn’t even the best connected, despite his maternal family’s support; that honor went to another one of his siblings, born to an especially well-connected family through unspecified circumstances that might or might not involve rape but which sufficient money had plastered over.

The only thing Jin Zixuan had going for him was his legitimacy, but his father had long ago taught him - however inadvertently - that there wasn’t anything magical about a wedding ceremony that made him better suited to the role of sect leader.

What’s more, in his heart of hearts, Jin Zixuan didn’t even want it.

He wasn’t – he didn’t really like fighting. Or politics, or scheming, or any of it. It just wasn’t his personality. He didn’t like games of influence, he didn’t like backstabbing people that trusted him, he didn’t like gossiping and slandering and not being able to believe in people’s good faith and any of that, and no matter how much his mom pushed him, he didn’t think he’d ever like it.

But that was what Lanling Jin did, what Jilin Tower was like, and if he wanted to take up the Sect Leader’s seat and reside in the Fragrant Palace, he had to get over himself and accept that that’s what the rest of his life would be like.

Forever.

Until someone murdered him and took his place, anyway. It almost felt inevitable, sometimes.

Or, because he really truly didn’t want the job, because he really truly didn’t want to die, he could try to think of something else. Some way out.

For example, he could, and did, go to Jin Ziyao and ask him for help.

Jin Ziyao stared at him, eyes narrow and calculating as they so rarely were – he was very good at keeping a bland polite smile on his face, the best at it of all the people Jin Zixuan had ever met, and he’d met a lot.

“That’s an interesting thing to say, brother,” he said, gently eliding as always the fact that they were the same age, born on the same day to different mothers. “Very interesting indeed. I must ask, though - why are you saying it to me?”

“Because you’d be the best at the job,” Jin Zixuan said honestly. He really thought so: Jin Ziyao was smart and clever, cunning enough to wear a kind face and tricky enough to actually pull off the impression of actually being kind, since people were more willing to forgive kind people, but also ambitious and ruthless enough to survive and maybe even thrive in the political world the way Jin Zixuan wasn’t. “And because you’re smart enough to come up with a way for me to get out of this without dying, if you wanted to.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would I want to?”

And that was the rub, wasn’t it? Jin Zixuan was the legitimate son, the rightful heir, and his father, their father, was just as likely to name Jin Zixuan as the next sect leader no matter how unfit for the role he was on nothing more than that basis as he was to name anyone else with a much stronger claim.

It was in everyone else’s best interest to kill him, if they were ambitious.

Maybe not his sisters. They wouldn’t inherit no matter what happened to him.

(Sometimes Jin Zixuan wished he was lucky enough to be born a nobody, little Jin Ziyu, who just wanted to play with make-up and avoid all contact with his maternal Mo family. Nobody cared about Jin Ziyu, and everyone liked it that way.)

“You know my position,” Jin Zixuan explained. He didn’t need to say it out loud; he was bitterly aware that it was basically his only personality trait: legitimate heir of Jin Guangshan, the rich boy everyone thought would be the next sect leader unless someone else got in the way. “My support could be worth something to you.”

“Especially if it’s sincere,” Jin Ziyao murmured, looking thoughtful, contemplative. It wasn’t an outright no, anyway, or at least not yet. “And you would be sincere, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s a reason I said that I’m not fit for the role,” Jin Zixuan replied, his voice dry to hide the fact that his heart was in his throat. Jin Ziyao was the one most likely to succeed in finding a way to get him out of this mess, but he was also the most likely to figure out a way to kill him without being blamed for it, too. There was a reason he’d come to him, but that reason was the danger - who was to say that Jin Ziyao wouldn’t decide it’d be safer to kill him, and to use this to accomplish it? He could be signing his own death warrant. “And even if you’re smart, competent, good at managing things, well-connected, and well-liked, you can still use my help.”

Jin Ziyao had only a single fault: his mother had been a prostitute. People still judged him for that, something which made no sense to Jin Zixuan whatsoever – it wasn’t Jin Ziyao’s fault what his mother did before he was born – but it meant he lacked legitimacy even more than the others.

Having the legitimate son backing his claim would be a strong argument in favor of overlooking that.

“You know your mother won’t like it,” Jin Ziyao said. Testing, probing; he hadn’t agreed yet.

“I know,” Jin Zixuan said simply. “But I hope that she’d like me being dead less.”

He wasn’t actually sure about that. His mother loved him, yes, but he had never entirely determined if she loved him for himself or as an extension of herself – a symbol of what she would be fighting towards. A sign that her struggles with her husband had a purpose, that all her humiliation would one day be worth it.

That one day, when he was sect leader, she would become the true power in Lanling through him.

(Jin Zixuan didn’t know what she imagined would happen to all his illegitimate brothers and sisters in that situation, and he didn’t want to; it put a sick feeling in his gut to think about it – which he supposed meant he did know, after all, what she would want, but was instead choosing to ignore it.)

Jin Ziyao studied him for a long moment, presumably trying to analyze his sincerity and how firm he was on the idea.

Jin Zixuan didn’t rush him, knowing it was a gamble on his side as well: it would be worse for him to help Jin Zixuan out of the line of succession only for Jin Zixuan to change his mind down the road. It would make him look bad, make him a target for the others, and the backstabbing nature of Lanling politics meant that luring someone in with a request for aid was exactly the sort of trap someone might lay out.

Sometimes, Jin Zixuan was really, really tired of Lanling.

Maybe something of that showed on his face, because just when he was starting to lose hope, Jin Ziyao abruptly nodded – almost to himself – and said, “All right. How about your marriage?”

“What about my marriage?” Jin Zixuan asked, puzzled.

He’d been engaged to his mother’s best friend’s daughter since before he was born, and amazingly enough the engagement had held despite everything – probably because they had barely met, to be perfectly honest. And also the fact that being surrounded by brothers that hid daggers in their smiles gave Jin Zixuan enough experience to realize that he was being deliberately incited when his so-called friends started telling him that he deserved better than a girl most often described simply as being nice.

After all, he’d already started doubting by that time that he even deserved the accident of his legitimate birth, so forget deserving any girl.

Also, being nice sounded…rather nice, actually. Certainly a relief, assuming she was actually nice rather than just pretending to be the way so many of his sisters were.

(None of them liked her, which suggested she might be.)

“You should get to know your intended better,” Jin Ziyao said. “Visit her more often.”

Jin Zixuan really wasn’t seeing the connection between that and his request for assistance, and Jin Ziyao’s gaze softened a little bit, though Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure if it was with sympathy or merely pity.

“It’ll make it easier for you,” he clarified. “For when you marry in.”

Marry in?

Marry in. The Jiang sect was a Great Sect, with enough power and influence to make unreasonable demands – and his father desperately wanted the alliance with them. If they could be convinced to demand that he marry in rather than having Jiang Yanli marry out, pointing to their smaller numbers or the tragedies that had befallen their sect…

Jiang Cheng would like having his sister around. He was also notoriously standoffish around women, and had viciously rejected any effort to be matched with one of the illegitimate Jin girls; it might even be possible to suggest to his father that allowing Jin Zixuan to marry in would mean that there was a chance that Jiang Cheng would be willing to leave his sect to a nephew surnamed Jiang, winning the Jin sect both an alliance and inheritance all at once.

Best of all, it had to be him. The Jiang sect had only agreed to the engagement because of Madame Yu’s friendship with his mother, not for any political reason; if his father tried to substitute him with someone else, they might break it entirely…

And someone who married out couldn’t be the heir.

“You’re a genius,” Jin Zixuan told his brother, who smiled crookedly in acknowledgement. “What should I do? Do I just – go over there? Send a letter? I can’t write letters…”

“Let me think about it,” Jin Ziyao said. “I’m sure I can come up with something more subtle than you.”

#mdzs #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #succession #Anonymous

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d-criss-news · 3 years

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The Glee star and Emmy winner for The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Darren Criss, 34, will be releasing his first album of Christmas songs, titled A Very Darren Crissmas (October 8). It includes duets with Adam Lambert, Evan Rachel Wood and an original song, “Drunk on Christmas,” featuring Lainey Wilson.

What was your goal with this Christmas album?

To reintroduce familiar songs in a new way. But I also wanted to take lesser-known songs and make those feel more familiar. And, most importantly, I wanted to take songs that people don’t associate with Christmas but I do—like Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”—and try to make them feel like Christmas songs.

What inspired you to write “Drunk on Christmas”?

It’s about the end of Christmas when everything’s been done. There’s wrapping on the floor, you’ve cleaned things, the in-laws have left and there’s nothing else to do. It’s two people having a sit-on-the couch moment, sipping a glass of cocoa with some SoCo [Southern Comfort] in it.

What is it about Christmas music? Why did you want to do the Christmas album?

Christmas or the holiday season is something that, whether we like it or not, we experience every year, and that comes with a litany of wonderful songs and music that again, whether you have been proactive about listening to it or not, it’s pretty hard to avoid. It’s permeated our cultural consciousness for our entire lives. So if you happen to be someone like me who consumes music at a hyperactive level, I’ve always adored Christmas music.

People say this because of the way that it makes them feel and the things that it reminds them of. There are so many layers to why people enjoy Christmas music. It’s nostalgic, it is very romantic, at least in the true dictionary meaning of the word romantic. And to me, I’ve always loved it for a much more anthropological reason, which is for one month or several weeks out of the year we suddenly subscribe to a certain sentiment that the other 11 we don’t really dial into. We want it all, then we want it to just go away.

What makes Christmas songs different?

As a musician I’ve always loved that Christmas music can employ certain musical elements that otherwise aren’t very popular. To me, it’s incredible that without a doubt the estates of many artists are guaranteed placement on the radio even though many of them have been deceased for many years. The pop charts are dominated by whatever contemporary, awesome artists there are nowadays, but in December you can guarantee that Burl Ives and Dean Martin will be on the radio with the best of them. I find that so charming. It’s because people really, really love this music.

And those songs don’t sound like the sounds that we’re hearing on the radio, sonically, harmonically, rhythmically. They employ a lot of “classic” sounds that evoke the feeling of Christmas. I’m a self-proclaimed genrephile—this is a term I use for myself throughout all the stuff that I do. I can’t help but be so enchanted by this idea that artists have license, and by license I mean an excuse to do things that you ordinarily wouldn’t be encouraged to do, or that audiences wouldn’t necessarily be as quick to absorb.

So, when you’re talking about classic Christmas writing, for lack of a better word, you use clichéd Christmas terminology, you use certain chords, and harmonies, and instrumentations that you just wouldn’t do throughout the year. It leans on the slightly more sophisticated, slightly more musical, and that is really exciting for someone like me.

How much does the fact that your last name is Criss play into this?

If you play music and your last name is Criss, every year someone says, “You know what you should do?” as if they’re the first person who’s ever thought of this idea. So I’ve always wanted to do this; it was just a matter of time. And I also didn’t want it to be phoned in, I didn’t want it to seem like, “Oh, here’s some songs that you know already.”

I wrote this in my liner notes that my favorite thing to do with art, but particularly music, is curate, interpolate, create and personalize. That’s my main thing. I’m an OK singer, I’m an OK musician, but what I really think I have a yen for is trying to interpolate something new that people didn’t know before.

If you think about a song like “Jingle Bells,” it was not written for Christmas. It was a song from 200-something years ago that bears no mention of Christmas whatsoever, but we associate it so heavily with Christmas. Lately I hear Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” come up on Christmas playlists. I think it must have something to do with the Christian angle of the song and the reverence of the word “hallelujah,” but there’s no mention of Christmas.

So there’s a lot of different things that can make people feel like Christmas if you arrange it a certain way, and that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted this cocktail of songs that people didn’t know and I might be able to introduce to them in a really new, interesting way.

You duet with Adam Lambert, Evan Rachel Wood and Lainey Wilson. These people couldn’t be more different. How did you select your song partners for this?

Honestly, people are busy, so I leaned on friends of mine. The album is called A Very Darren Crissmas, and I wanted to make it just that. Songs that are very, very me, doing things that are very me, and using the talents of people who are legitimately in my life. Adam has been a pal for a long time. We’ve known each other from just adventures in Hollywood, but he, of course, was on Glee with me. Evan Rachel is a dear pal of mine; we’ve done some things together. She’s played my festival, and I’ve done comedy sketches with her and stuff. These are all extraordinarily talented singers. As I told them when I asked them to be a part of it, “I’d be very lucky to have you on this record.”

I had not met Lainey Wilson before I started this. But when you’re in Nashville, you are in the Olympic tent of USDA certified prime country singers. And that’s a bit of a blind spot for me as far as who’s on the up and up, who’s somebody that can really give a level of authenticity, legitimacy to a more classic ’50s Nashville sound, which is the song that I wrote called “Drunk on Christmas.” My producer Ron Fair, who has been living in Nashville for a while, suggested Lainey and we got on like a house on fire. She’s an extraordinary talent and I was happy to have her. These were all people that were part of this grassroots friend to friend thing. That’s how I got them and I’m very lucky that they’re on the record.

There are hundreds of Christmas songs. How did you choose what to include?

Choosing was extremely hard. I had a list of about 100 songs. I’m not done; this record is only phase one in my mind. There are so many songs that it will make your head spin. If you go, “Did you think about this song?” The answer is yes, and I absolutely had to deliberate which ones I had to triage out of the sequence.

I even said no to “The Christmas Song,” which is on the album. I didn’t want to do it because I was like, “Everybody knows it; it’s perfect by Nat King Cole,” and Mel Tormé [who wrote it] is one of my favorite artists of all time, much less songwriters and musicians. So I was like, “I don’t want to have to do that.” And on the day when we were there, we just had a guitar and said, “Let’s just do it for fun,” because I love singing that song. But I was like, “It’s been done perfectly too many times, I really don’t want to have to put myself up against that.” But we had a nice take, it’s live in the room. And hey, come on, it’s Christmas. So I left it on there.

If we were to come to your house during the holidays, what would you be listening to?

I’d probably sit you down and play you my favorite songs that you’ve never heard that I think are great Christmas songs. But what’s nice is I’ve now put those songs on this album, hopefully, in a perhaps delusional effort to standardize these songs in the Christmas pantheon. There has to be an air of delusion to being an artist in the first place. If one of these songs that no one’s ever heard before catches on with a family or a person and becomes part of their Christmas playlist every year, then I will have succeeded in my efforts.

What did the Emmy you won for The Assassination of Gianni Versace do for your career?

Although the Emmy has just my name on it, the number one thing that I’m most proud of is it’s more symbolic and representative of the work of the whole team. It is a validation and celebration of the really hard work of people that I spent a lot of time and energy with creating this role.

You have a couple voice roles coming up—in Trese and Yasuke—but what are we going to see you in next, not just hear you?

I don’t know. Let me know if there’s any opportunities. A huge reason for why this album was made was because I had the time. Making records takes a lot of time, and I’m envious of people who are just singers. I don’t know how people do that, that’s just not who I am. I’m a producer, I’m a writer, I’m a musician. It takes so much out of me to make a body of music because someone doesn’t say, “OK, here are the songs, show up on a Tuesday, you sing it and then you leave.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Some of my favorite artists can do that and are blessed enough to be able to just do that. I can’t.

It takes so much time for me to really get in the weeds, arrange, edit vocals, edit instrumentation, mix tracks, really getting in the jungle of music production. I can’t function any other way and that takes an extraordinary amount of time. Even when there was a global pandemic, I still had deadlines that we could barely make to finish this album because that’s just how my brain works.

So I haven’t been able to act. I haven’t had an acting job in almost two years. That’s not entirely true. I’ve had little bit things during the pandemic, but no big series or films or anything like that. It’s just been mostly working from home and being as proactive as I can be. I started a weekly podcast with a friend of mine, I put out an EP. I’ve been extremely busy with high output and low visibility. I’m waiting for the next thing, but I’m not one to sit still. If you give me time, I’m going to fill all the spaces out. So I did that with music this past two years.

Are you going to go back to Broadway now that it’s opening again?

I don’t want to say anything that is not perhaps confirmed 100 percent, but I will say with full confidence that I have always had the intention of going back exactly where we started. I’ll let them announce what’s happening because every show is in its own unique holding pattern. But, yes, right before the shutdown I was doing American Buffalo in New York, and talk about the actor’s dream, that is right up there. Doing a great American play that I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve had a long history with that show, and I finally get to do it for real with two of my favorite actors—Sam Rockwell and Laurence Fishburne. They are two acting heroes of mine.

So I was in rehearsals for that. We were about to go into tech, and things got shut down. But we’re in a very fortunate position where you’ve got two huge movie stars, you have a very well-known play and you have a fixed set and just three guys. There are musicals that have orchestras, big choruses and huge set pieces, and the overhead and upkeep of these productions is quite complicated. And a lot of them, for that reason, fell by the wayside during the pandemic, and it’s an awful tragedy. But our set and our billboard and our posters are exactly where we left them. It’s kind of a trip. If you go to Circle in the Square, I keep telling people it’s the longest I’ve ever been on Broadway because it’s just sitting there dormant, waiting to be resurrected.

I think all of us are planning on going back. I think the show is scheduled to reopen almost to the day that it was supposed to open in 2020. We’ll see how the schedule ends up, but you have three guys whose heart and soul is the theater. I don’t want to speak for the other two guys, but I’m almost positive that all three of us would rather be doing that play on Broadway than anything else. So when I say I haven’t had an acting gig in two years, it’s been a comfort to know that that was waiting for me on the other end. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we’ll be able to do it. We’ll have to make sure that everything is hunky-dory with theater audiences, et cetera, et cetera, but that’s the idea.

How did Ryan Murphy casting you in Glee change your life?

I said during my Emmy speech that actors are only as good as the moments they get. I used to say actors are only as good as the parts they get. Take that with a huge grain of salt, obviously, it’s not entirely true. But in context of that moment, certainly you can understand what I meant. Acting is a proactive craft, but in many respects it’s a passive career, where you have to hope and wait for a benefactor, a patron, a supporter to say, “OK, all right, kid, you’re up. I think you can do it.”

I think any artist’s life is a constant compromise between knowing what you can do and what you want to do, and having other people, audiences and creative authorities alike, have an idea of what you can do. You have to have that balance of somewhere in the middle, where hopefully you can rise to an occasion that you know you can do, that somebody’s going to give you the opportunity to do. But you’re not in control of that relationship, and so you have to sit and hope and pray that someone is going to give you that moment and that opportunity. That was something that I’m fully indebted to with Ryan.

Because he did say, “All right, kid, you’re up,” and gave me that shot. We talked about the The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story series for years before we did it. I didn’t think he was ever going to do it. By the time we started shooting, he probably mentioned it to me three or four years prior. And I kept asking about it like, “Hey, you still want to do this thing?” I think he was just always obsessed with the fact that I was half Filipino and that I bore a certain resemblance to the guy. Age and everything, it seems pretty spot-on. But he was a man of his word, and he really did end up making it. So I’m incredibly indebted to him and I’ve always been very effusive about that.

Now that you have this modicum of fame, what would you like to use it to accomplish?

For me, there are so many things that I love in this world that I don’t think other people are familiar with. One of the things about having a modicum of a platform is hopefully embracing that to use it as a gateway drug for stuff that people might not be familiar with. I don’t know if they’re going to like it as much as I do, but I’m looking at this track list and there are songs that I guarantee that you don’t know.

These are all things where I go, “OK, I have this moment of people’s attention, hopefully, this is a fun way to have them have eyes on something that I think is deserving of eyes, and not because of me, but because of other people who have made something amazing.” And, hopefully, they have the same proactive curiosity that I had growing up where I look at the liner notes and see who wrote the songs and where they came from. But we’ll see. We’ll see if people have that reaction.

You’ve accomplished so much. What’s the dream going forward?

The dream is to keep doing me, really. I think all you can do is be as true to yourself and try and do as accessible and as valuable work as you can. And, hopefully, in so doing, represent people, giving them visibility and encouragement towards their own place in the cultural conversation.

#darren criss #parade magazine #a very darren crissmas #press #oct 2021

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iamnotparticularlyproud · 3 years

Photo

PPB Square: Kink Discovery | @peterparkerbingo

word count: 2.7k rating: mature warnings: none ao3 link: https://bit.ly/3xpiBdx

Summary: Bucky and Peter have been together for a while, but Peter can’t bring himself to talk to his boyfriend about how their sex life is a bit - uh, well, boring. Instead, Peter searches Bucky’s laptop while he isn’t home for any sign of kink whatsoever. To say it doesn’t go as he planned would be an understatement.

Bucky’s amazing. So, so amazing, and Peter could go on about it for days - about his silly nicknames, the way he makes the Brooklyn drawl sound adorable, his unexpected dorkiness and razor sharp wit, how his hands are so calloused but he holds Peter so softly--

Days, Peter could come up with these for days.

So, it’s not like there’s anything he wishes he could change about their relationship. It’s - they’re - perfect, everything’s been perfect. Bucky’s just so nice, and after Beck, Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be in a relationship again, let alone one so - so good. So healthy, and so supportive.

It’s just--

Their sex is so vanilla. Painfully vanilla. The most unconventional Bucky gets is with his dirty talk, and, yeah, Peter loves how his boyfriend will call him his sweet lil boy, and tell Peter how good he takes a thick cock in his tight ass, but that's about as far as Bucky ever goes.

And that - that isn’t a bad thing, Peter knows that, it’s just. Boring, sometimes, is all.

Peter wishes he could talk to Bucky about it, because the man always stresses communication and talking problems out, but it’s just so embarrassing. Peter’s just thinking about it and he’s flushed, so how could he say the word kink out loud?

He can’t. He really, really can’t.

So Peter does the only other thing he can think to do.

He steals Bucky’s laptop and rummages for any signs of kink - anything to suggest his boyfriend isn’t as vanilla as it seems. Peter knows he doesn’t have long - Bucky’s out getting takeout from their favorite Thai place, and it isn’t too far - so he doesn’t waste time as he searches all the keywords he can think of in Bucky’s unorganized folders, his internet history that’s never been cleared, the hard drive Peter got him because he complained about memory but Peter was 99% sure he never touched - he was right - and then tries his luck with the recycle bin, but--

There’s not just no sign of kink.

There’s nothing. There’s no porn at all.

Peter’s mind is blown. He hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t find porn, he thought that everyone watched porn - and unless Bucky knew how to delete specific pages from his browser history, which Peter heavily doubts, because, c'mon - but apparently, Bucky doesn’t.

He considers that, maybe, since Bucky is nearly a decade older than him, he consumes his porn in a different way. Maybe physical movies or, godforbid, magazines.

Peter’s considering looking through Bucky’s drawers and closets until he finds proof of pornography consumption, but then someone’s clearing their throat behind him.

“Jesus, how do you--” Peter exclaims, because it’s nowhere near the first time this six foot hunk of a man has snuck up on him. Then, he glances at the clunky computer in his lap that is obviously not his, and back at Bucky, who’s looking at the laptop, and then at Peter.

“What’re you doin’ with my computer?”

Peter panics, not because Bucky seems upset, because he doesn’t, just - confused, but it’s such a weird thing to be doing, and he can’t lie at all, and this isn’t--

“Does that say porn?” Bucky asks, suddenly leaning over Peter’s shoulder, and he just sounds amused, but Peter goes on the defensive anyway.

“I-It’s just, you never, and I - this isn’t me wanting you to change, or--”

Bucky moves quickly when Peter starts that familiar stress-ramble; he circles around the couch, puts the plastic bag filled with food down on the coffee table and sits next to him, wrapping an arm around his back and shushing him kindly.

“Slow down, doll.” Bucky smiles, sincerity etched in his crow’s feet, “Can’t understand you when you’re talkin’ too fast, remember?”

Peter stops. He nods, then he takes a breath. When he lets it go, Bucky tells him to take a deeper one, so he does, and as he breathes it out, he feels the alarm fade.

Not completely, though. Not with the evidence of his snooping in his lap.

With a glance back at where porn is still typed out in the recycle bin’s search bar and a chuckle, Bucky asks, almost laughing, “What were you doin’, sweetheart?”

Peter doesn’t expect it, but the fight drains from his body. It’s him accepting his fate, he realizes belatedly.

“I, uh,” Peter pauses, because it’s still so difficult to say the words, “was looking for porn.”

Bucky laughs for real this time, and Peter closes his eyes with a sigh. That wasn’t what he meant to say, at all.

“No - I was looking for y-your porn, like, what you watch,” Peter explains, and Bucky is still laughing, but he waves a hand.

“Yeah, I got that.” He says, making an effort to curb his laughter, “Why, though?”

Peter bites his lip. "Do you watch porn?”

He was scared that meeting Bucky’s question with a question would frustrate the man, but he only looks more amused.

“Why would I?”

Huh?

“What?”

“Why would I watch porn?” Bucky sounds genuinely confused, “We have sex almost everyday.”

Almost, Peter nearly stresses, but catches himself. Obviously, he’s dramatically misread the situation.

“Y-Yeah, but,” Peter tries to come up with something, anything, “like, maybe, before we dated?”

“I know it’s kinda old, but I got the thing not too long before we met, actually.”

That bit of information also sends Peter reeling, and he almost argues about it - because the laptop isn’t 'kinda old,' it’s ancient - but Bucky speaks before he does.

“Were you lookin’ for the kinda porn I’m into?”

Peter nearly sags with relief. How does he always manage to get it before Peter has to explain?

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s smile shifts, and it’s - he likes that, Peter notices, and, it’s - it's sexual.

“What, did you wanna tease me?” Bucky licks his lips, “Rile me up?”

Oh. That works, and it’s pretty true, even. Peter can work with that.

He nods. Bucky continues, and he looks so pleased.

“It’s you, sugar,” Bucky brings his hand to Peter’s cheek, and his hold is so gentle, but the calluses are rough, and it’s such a satisfying dichotomy that Peter can’t help but lean into it, “You get me wild.”

If only. Peter’s never seen him be wild.

But he couldn’t say that. Not when Bucky sounds like he absolutely means it, and it makes Peter’s heart flutter.

Peter has been a bit weird lately.

Well, Peter is always a bit weird, but it’s a part of his charm. He’s been acting extra weird lately, Bucky’s noticed, and while it’s just as endearing, it’s confusing, too.

He almost calls Peter out on it after he’s found him searching for porn on his computer - more than he had already, anyway - but he just gets so tense when Bucky tries to make him really talk about something. He doesn’t want to bring up that energy - not so late, anyway.

So Bucky plans to talk to him about it tomorrow.

And Peter thwarts that plan as soon as they wake up. Usually, he’s eager to spend the last day of their shared weekend off together, but before they’ve even had their coffee, Peter’s rushing out the door with the excuse of meeting up with his college friends at a cafe. Not too long later he texted they were going to do an impromptu study group for an upcoming quiz, then, after five hours, texted him they were going to hang out more.

Bucky tries not to be suspicious of or retaliatory to Peter even more than he’s learned to be with his partners, because the kid’s not had a great track record with boyfriends, to say the least, but this is ridiculous. When he’s been gone for a whole seven hours, under the guise of shoddy excuses, Bucky decides his curiosity needs to be sated more than Peter needs to be coddled, and his new plan is to snoop into Peter’s computer like the kid tried with him. Obviously, if he assumed Bucky would have porn on his laptop, Peter’s got some on his.

Bucky doesn’t plan to look until Peter texts that he’s on his way home, though. He thinks it’ll be funny if the kid finds himself where Bucky stood last night.

So, after Peter texted that he’s omw, Bucky pulls out his computer. It’s so sleek, thin and light, yet wide, and he hates using it, but he’s dying to know. How much porn could Peter possibly watch, considering how much they have sex, and how busy he’s kept as a student and part-time employee?

Not very much, Bucky assumes.

And holy fuck is he wrong.

He takes a wild guess and searches porn in the convenient - but too bulky, and ugly - search engine in the toolbar, and a stupidly obviously labeled folder, not porn don’t look, comes right up. There’s several subfolders - distinguishing the videos by kink, dear God - and dozens of videos in most of them, over a hundred in a few.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s surprised - Jesus Christ, so surprised - at so many things, but - where the fuck does Peter find the time to watch so much porn? What does it mean that he’s amassed such a collection? How has Bucky never walked in on him watching it? Is there a way to see how many hours of it there are, because it’s a stupidly high amount, definitely--

Bucky takes a breath. He leans back, too, because the little previews are too much to look at, and he takes a moment to appreciate just how understandable it was that Peter was so confused yesterday. It must be unthinkable, to not watch porn, to him. But - Peter’s never even mentioned porn before, not in the half-a-year they’ve been dating, so what was so different about yesterday?

The question has Bucky sitting back up, ready to delve deeper. He starts by reading the names of the folders closer, finding it’s not just organized by kink, but by his favorite pornstars, too. The kid’s got several, all with typical pornstar names, and according to the previews, he’s got a type for big and buff. Checks out.

With another deep, grounding breath, Bucky clicks on the folder name Ultimate Favorites. It’s only got thirteen videos in it, but all the titles are a fuckin’ doozy. It’s shit like Small Twink Fucked Hard, and Daddy Pounds His Boy Until He Cries, and - Jesus fuck - Dom Verbally Abuses Sub While Anally Abusing Him.

Bucky’s nauseous just reading that last one. He never would’ve guessed Peter was into such rough sex. Not just because the kid gets all wide-eyed and stuttery whenever sex is even mentioned, but because Peter’s just so - soft. In all the ways a person can be, really.

Bucky doesn’t know how to reconcile what he knows Peter to be like with this new information about him. He distantly knows that he doesn’t have to - that Peter’s kinks don't reflect anything about his personality, and acting like they do is only reductive - but the instinct is so strong, he can’t help but fruitlessly try.

Before he can reconsider, Bucky’s clicking on one of the more mildly titled videos - not that any of them are mild at all - just to understand better what Peter’s so into.

The video loads almost immediately, and it doesn’t waste time with any kind of introduction - there’s suddenly two men on the screen, their size difference resembling Bucky and Peter’s to a ridiculous degree, and the larger one pushes the smaller onto a bed carelessly before climbing on top of him. It’s a bunch of shoving and aggressive groping along with cruel words and name calling, and Bucky’s never been more turned off in his life. He can’t believe this porno is among Peter’s favorites - his boyfriend’s never once let on that this is the kind of sex he’s into.

While he’s staring, Bucky’s on screen lookalike finally quitting with the rough teasing and moving onto the brutal fucking, he hears Peter enter his apartment. Bucky doesn’t mute the video, and Peter’s light footsteps stop immediately. Bucky can just see the look on his face - that caught-in-the-headlights one that makes Peter look more like a deer than Bucky thought a person could - and he stifles a laugh as the steps pick back up, this time much more hesitant. When Peter’s a good foot into the living room, Bucky turns around, acting as if he hadn’t heard him coming in.

With the computer filling the room with sounds of slapping and exaggerated moans, Bucky greets, struggling to keep a smirk off his face, “Hi, honey. How was your day?”

Peter doesn’t answer him and - yep, there’s that look. Instead, he gapes like a fish at where his computer is steadied on Bucky’s lap, eyes wide and frantic.

“Why’d you never mention this, doll?” Bucky asks, dropping the act as Peter keeps looking like disaster is seconds away. He pauses the video and sets the laptop to the side, motioning for Peter to join him on the couch.

Peter does join him, albeit uncertain and his eyes still trained on the graphic image on the computer screen. He’s quiet as he sits as far as he can from Bucky.

“I--” Peter starts, gaze transfixed on the laptop. “Can you - close that?”

Bucky does. Peter keeps looking at it.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

Peter finally looks at him. He seems scared, Bucky realizes. He closes a bit of the distance between them, leaving some incase Peter feels suffocated, and puts a hand on the back of his neck, a touch Peter always leans into.

He does this time, too. He relaxes some, and Bucky prompts, “Were you scared to tell me?”

Peter relaxes even more, his shoulders falling. He nods. “I know you probably don’t care--”

Bucky interrupts to confirm with a nod of his own, “I don’t.”

“But it’s just--” Peter huffs, eyebrows furrowing, “Embarrassing.”

Bucky nods more. “It doesn’t change how I think about you.” He reassures Peter, “At all.”

“That's good.” Peter breathes, and Bucky can’t help but laugh softly. “I was starting to think it would gross you out.”

It kinda does, but Bucky doesn’t say that. It isn’t important how the porn he’s into makes Bucky feel.

“No, baby. It doesn’t.”

Peter leans into his side, and Bucky shifts to embrace him. Silence attempts to settle around them, but Bucky can’t help his need to tease.

“So… where’d you find the time to make such a collection?”

Peter cringes. “I, uh, started it years ago.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know why he didn’t assume that - it’s a seriously massive collection - but thinking of how far back years suggests, and how Peter is just twenty-two, he can’t help but ask for clarification.

“How many years you talkin’?”

“Uhh…” Peter trails off, seeming to really think about it. Bucky can see the moment he finds the answer, and his expression closes. “...several.”

Bucky decides to wager a guess. He doesn’t really know why he wants to know this answer, but he thinks it might help him understand just how into kink Peter is.

“Sixteen?”

Peter whines. “Jamie.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Fifteen?”

Peter pulls away a bit to cover his face with his hands, and he whines unintelligibly this time.

“Christ, it wasn’t younger than thirteen, was it?”

Peter shakes his head. “N-No, I--” His words are muffled by his palms, “I was fourteen.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Peter can’t lie for shit, so Bucky can tell he isn’t just appeasing him.

Then it hits him just how long Peter’s been fantasizing about this kind of sex.

“You’re really into this stuff, huh?”

Peter burrows further into his hands. Bucky rubs his back, and considers his next words carefully.

“If you want, we could explore some of the tamer stuff you have in there.”

Peter drops his hands from his face and he looks excited for all of two seconds. Then, his expression falls. “None of it’s… tame. I mean, I guess--” Peter cuts himself off to cough, wincing as he tries to get the words out, “uh, im-impact play isn’t, you know, hardcore, I guess.”

“Spanking and stuff?”

“...and stuff.” Peter says with a flush.

“We’ll start with spanking,” Bucky laughs, adding just in case, “if you want to.”

But it wasn’t necessary, because Peter brightens immediately.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Peter smiles wide, and Bucky can’t help but return it with one of his own.

#peterparkerbingo2021 #winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #peter parker x bucky barnes #peter x bucky #nff #im pretty sure no warnings anyway #if u think i should add one jus tell me #for some reason i feel the need to defend myself for making bucky not. like. good with technology #bc thats not canon #but i dont have a reason i just think its funny #also for some reason im really embarrassed to post this #uhhhh #my writing

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helgabatwrittings · 3 years

Text

When your world comes crashing down don't cry

His mind kept racing between everything he had learned. It was all he could think about lately. Alya and Nino are Rena Rouge and Carapace. They know about each other. Ladybug knows that they know. Ladybug was the one who gave that secret away. Ladybug didn’t tell him. Because they must keep their identities a secret. And they all think he is annoying. That’s why Ladybug doesn’t tell him anything. Because Chat Noir is annoying, and he can’t be trusted.

AO3

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pretending everything was okay was becoming the most strenuous task each day.

Especially when one hasn’t slept for almost a week.

A week…

A week has passed ever since Nino told him just how annoying he was. It made sense actually, the more he thought about it, the clearer it got.

Adrien was annoying, that was a fact, he has always been like that and that is why his father never wanted to spend time with him, it was why his parents have never let him go to school, they always said they were protecting him, and now Adrien knew exactly why…

They just did not want him to realise how bothersome he was.

It was why Ladybug… why she-

Prrrrr Prrrrrr Prrrrrr

The alarm interrupted his jumbled thoughts. Adrien sighed. Getting out of bed was also becoming the most strenuous task each day.

“Are you going to turn that off so I can proceed to sleep?? I was in the middle of eating this amazing piece of camembert” Plagg grumbled, his nasal voice still thick with sleep.

Adrien turned to his side and with a heavy hand, he grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm, the missed texts from Nino not going unnoticed. He just couldn’t find any strength to engage in any conversation his best friend was starting. Not that it mattered anyway, he would probably only bother him and then Nino would just get sick of him just like everyone else did. Just like Nino already had with Chat Noir. And Adrien didn’t want that. Adrien would never want that. He had lost too many people already, so he might as well try to save the few relationships he still has, even if he must keep them at arm’s length. It’s still better than nothing, right? Even if that crushing void of loneliness was growing inside him every day.

It was with an increasing effort that Adrien finally managed to get out of the bed, his limbs feeling like lead. He walked to his bathroom, not noticing the black blob staring right at him with downcast eyes and dropped ears.

After going through his usual routine, Adrien just stood in front of his mirror checking for any imperfection that might put him in trouble, like he did every day. A paler, skinnier version of himself looked right back at him with heavy dark bags under vacant eyes. His lower, chapped lip trembled slightly, but he quickly managed to get a hold of it, the same couldn’t be said for the lump that had settled itself in his throat for a couple of days now. Adrien suddenly broke eye contact and fumbling through the top drawer, without really looking at it, without really looking at anything, he finally felt the familiar shape of his concealer. And with a professional mannerism, he applied it on every imperfection, carefully moulding that sickly looking boy in the mirror into the face of the Gabriel brand.

Breakfast was, once again, all by himself, and Plagg of course, but he had to remain hidden in case anyone was to suddenly enter the dining room. For some reason, Adrien kept staring at the main door to the room, still hoping that his father would appear just to spend some time with him before school, but as usual, no one interrupted the suffocating silence that was becoming more and more unbearable each day. He even found himself hoping that Nathalie would appear, in all her stoic presence, with her tablet in hand to inform him of his schedule, even though he was perfectly aware that she was currently bedridden for some mysterious illness everyone was trying to hide from him.

He missed Nathalie, he still heard her every day through the tablet, but it wasn’t the same. At some point, his mum would only speak to him through a tablet when she got so sick she couldn’t leave her bed, and no one dared to explain to him what was happening.

The sight of his food got blurry as Adrien blinked back the tears that were threatening to escape. He took a deep shaking breath to fight the nauseating wave that crushed him. Once again, his appetite was absent, he sneaked the cheese under the table for Plagg and with that, Adrien went to the car, to start another day.

School was… School used to be the highlight of his everyday life, it was finally something Adrien had fought for and won. His first ticket to freedom. School gave him a chance to finally live in the real world, outside the four massive walls that made up his bedroom, and that for the longest time, had been his whole world. But now it just seemed pointless.

For the first time since he started attending public school, Adrien was actually feeling on edge at the idea of going there and meet his friends. His stomach was constricting itself, accentuating the ever-present nausea that had settled since that day, and the feeling seemed to worsen at each kilometre the car got closer to the building.

Do they also think Adrien is annoying? Do they also rant about him behind his back? Is that why Marinette doesn’t seem to stand being around him for too long? They have talked about it, and she assured him that they were friends. Marinette has done a lot to help him, like convincing his father to let him go to New York. But again, she does help everyone she knows. Of course, she would help him, even if she finds him annoying. Marinette is that nice.

How should he act around them? The knot on his stomach was becoming unbearable. How was it that he was feeling hot and cold at the same time? That there was this electric sensation running all over his body and making the tips of his fingers go all fuzzy, while his chest was beginning to burn as well. The lump on his throat was making it hard to breathe, no matter how much Adrien gasped for breath, it seemed that no air was reaching his lungs, which were blazing with the effort. Oh, God! Is this how he’s going to die? At the back of his father’s limo, on his way to school? His face felt wet for some reason. Was he crying? Why was he even crying?? He’s so ridiculous, crying for no reason whatsoever. This was the reason why everyone seemed to get tired of him fast, he was just an unstable mess. Why would anyone want to deal with that??

“…rien…” Adrien felt something press against his cheek.

“Adrien!” Apparently that something was Plagg. Thank goodness the divider was up so Gorilla couldn’t see the shameful pity party Adrien was throwing at the back of the car.

“C’mon kid, breathe with me…” Plagg was floating right before his eyes, taking deep exaggerated breaths so that Adrien’s sluggish mind could follow his request.

Emerald eyes connected as Adrien’s trembling breaths evolved to more stable ones. The knot on his stomach was starting to untie itself, although Adrien knew that it would never go away completely. He was used to it anyway. He blinked rapidly, successfully containing the tears that had started to leak during his episode.

“Adrien…” Plagg rarely used his name, “Maybe it’s better that you stay home, you can still ask Gorilla man to turn back…” Plagg was looking at him with concern, sad eyes and dropped ears complementing his worried expression. He hated that he was the cause of it. He hated that he was dragging everyone down with him.

He shook his head wildly, not trusting his voice to sound secure. He had to go to school. How would he even explain why he skipped school? His friends would ask, his father would ask, and he really didn’t have the energy to come up with any excuse. Adrien just had to pretend everything was alright, he was used to it, pretending was as natural as breathing for him. Even if it was becoming harder and harder each day to seem detached by everything that was happening to him lately, not that he would ever tell anyone what exactly was happening to him lately.

Shaky fingers searched through his messenger bag, looking for the small mirror he carried with him almost all the time, along with the concealer that for sure had been washed down by his ridiculous crying.

Once again, Adrien hid all his imperfections and insecurities behind a fresh layer of concealer.

“Adrien…” Nino was talking to him. When had he left the car and entered the classroom? The blackboard Miss Mendeleiev was writing on, was filled with fresh formulas, of a different subject from the last lesson. Which meant that they had already gone through the correction of homework and had started talking about a different thing. When had they done that? Adrien was in the car, having just barely recovered from a panic attack, and now he was in the middle of Physics class. The time between those two moments was lost to him.

A nudge on his left side made him flinch.

“Woah, dude, calm down, it’s me!” Nino whispered, while defensively raising his hands.

Trembling lips curved to form a shaky smile. It was the best Adrien could do for now.

Unfortunately, said smile didn’t seem to be enough to reassure Nino, as the latter raised his eyebrows in concern, silently asking Adrien if everything was okay. Adrien nodded quickly, his eyes immediately drifting to the blackboard ahead, putting an end to their silent conversation. He should try and pay attention to the lesson anyway. Physics was his favourite subject so it shouldn’t be hard. He could at least pretend to be paying attention to class. Adrien was getting sicker and sicker of pretending…

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml season 4 spoilers #hope you like it #tw panic attacks #depression references

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daddyloveslabor · 3 years

Text

James and Little

James stood directly in front of his Little, close enough that he could breathe in her scent, but he didn’t touch her just yet. He studied her face and her eyes. He knew them so well by this point. And this was the point. The one where his expertise of her face and eyes would alert him immediately to any signal from her, subdued or otherwise. Any misgivings whatsoever that she may have about what was about to happen to her, what was in store for her...he would see them.

She had been flawlessly obedient, always, save the small buckish provocation here and there when she desired extra correcting. And she never failed to know when *he* desired to more thoroughly correct her. She had always, truly, anticipated him at every turn.

She was perfect for him. He didn’t want to change a hair on her head, except in this one way. In this enormous, incredible way that in actuality was a thousand ways. The way that would change her irrevocably and indelibly.

He loved her precisely as she was. And it was because he loved her that he wanted to reconstruct her, just so. He throbbed with the need to observe, and then absorb, every single moment of her enduring and taking and suffering as she navigated the long transformation ahead of her. That’s what she did so, so well, after all. She endured. And she took it, everything he meted out to her, whether in tenderness or in sternness. She took it each and every time, with a grace and submission that endeared her to him harder and further every time he dominated her.

He wanted to witness every. Single. Second. As she morphed inexorably from the fruits his actions tonight would bring to bear upon her. He knew he was going to lose sleep in the months ahead, in an attempt to miss as little as possible.

Those eyes of hers. They were looking unflinchingly into his. Awaiting his encouragement and his instruction. They shone with a trust so pure and so fierce (and so devoid of shame, he realized, as his heart contracted in his chest) that the pact he had made with himself when it came to her - to protect her and cherish her at all costs - was reinforced tenfold.

He leaned in to smell her neck and she tilted back her head to give him better access. As he inhaled deeply, he ran his nose up her throat and along her jawline.

In a low growl, he said, “Mmmmm. Yes. That’s it. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

Head still tilted back, she replied, “Yes, Daddy. I’m always ready for you. But tonight especially.”

“Hmmm, that’s right. Your timing, as always, Little One, is fucking perfection. You smell...ripe.”

“I am. I made sure of it. I’m ready to receive.” She gave him a coy wink.

He couldn’t help but smile slightly. Her sense of humor, God damn. He would never stop thanking the Good Lord that he was given someone who would kneel down and suck him whenever he ordered...and that was funnier than anyone else he’d ever met.

When it was appropriate, of course. She never failed him in that regard either. She knew when it was time for her to shut her mouth.

“Good.” He took another long sniff along her collarbone and then backed away from her 3 paces.

He crossed his arms over his chest. She reflexively folded her arms behind her back and openly met his gaze.

Tripling down on his effort to ensure he didn’t miss even the most miniscule reflex in her eyes and her face as he spoke, he said, “The time has come, my Darling One. Tonight is the night.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are ready, yes?”

“Indeed I am, Sir.”

“What are you ready for, Love? Say it. What happens tonight?”

She shook her hair slightly and said firmly, “Tonight is the night you knock me up.”

He frowned. “Say it better.”

“Yes, Sir. Tonight is the night you fill me up. In every way. With your love, with your cock, and with your seed. You are going to bring me near to bursting in each regard.”

“Good girl. You’re going to be the home to my baby for the next ten months, isn’t that right?”

She licked her lips. “Yes, Sir. I am honored to carry your baby.”

He saw her eyes flash. But only in that “stop fucking teasing me and get on with it” way that he had come to know and love so well.

She suffered so gorgeously.

He forced another frown. “Mmm. Say that better.”

A microscopic smile. “Very well. As you wish. Sir?”

He raised an eyebrow at her and gestured for her to continue.

“Sir, I wish for you to fuck me tonight. Hard. I want to be sore tomorrow. And as I am, I want to be reminded that that soreness is nothing, nothing compared to what is waiting for me, because tonight you are going to put your baby inside me. And I promise I will let it grow and grow and grow, making me big and uncomfortable, all while you guide me and assist me and chastise me as needed.”

James’s throat had thickened and his cock had stiffened listening to her. “Yes, Love. I’m going to make you big. So very, very big. How big do I want you to be?”

“Very,” she replied, knowing full well what he wanted her to say and drawing it out.

“How big, Sarah? How big does Daddy want you? Say it.”

“You want me so big that I can hardly walk.”

“Mmm, that’s exactly, exactly right. I want you so stuffed I’ll have to help you stand up.”

“I want that too,” she breathed.

“Of course you do. It’s in your nature. And ohhhh, Baby. My sweet, sweet girl. It’s going to hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to take it for me, though, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

He closed in on her the 3 paces he had taken back prior. He placed his hand on her stomach.

“Oh, my Little. This flat, flat belly of yours. Once my baby has taken residence there, it’s going to start growing. And each and every day this nice flat belly is going to get a little rounder. A little heavier. A little harder.” He rubbed his thumb over her belly button and sighed with longing.

“Eventually your skin is going to be stretched so taut it will feel like a drum. It will hurt. Your belly button may pop out of your belly completely. Your back will ache more and more. Even so, as you begin to support your back with your hands, you will realize you still have weeks left to go, more pressure and strain compounding with each passing day.” He rested his hands on her waist and stroked her back with his fingers.

Moving his hands to her hip bones, he said, “Your hips will separate and throb. You will be so, so uncomfortable at night that sleeping will become difficult. Your gait will change as these hips spread out, making room to cradle my baby’s hard and heavy head deep inside the bones of your pelvis. You will have trouble getting out of bed and out of chairs. You will waddle, perhaps. And I will adore you.”

His hands slid up her sides and cupped her breasts. He worked her nipples with his thumbs and they hardened under his touch. She arched her back slightly, moving her breasts more fully into his large, warm hands. “Your breasts will become enlarged and sharply tender. I must admit to a ravenous curiosity there. How can perfection be improved upon? I will see, I am so sure.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Both his hands moved back down. “But this belly. Oh my dear, this belly. It will be massive. When you are nearing the end, you will find yourself holding it with both of your hands, seeking a few seconds of relief from the interminable, burdensome drag of it on your body. And you, no matter how weary, will carry it until I say it’s enough time. Understood?”

Her breath had become shaky. “Yes, Daddy. I understand. I will grow your baby so well for you, and I will take whatever pain and discomfort comes with it. I want to be so huge for you.”

He could see the pinkness in her cheeks. “And you know I will see to you like never before. Isn’t that right?”

“I do, Daddy.”

“Mmm. If you are sick, Babe, I will hold your hair back for you and wipe the sweat from your face. If at first you are drained and fatigued, I shall provide you the most comfortable accommodations available, so your rest is undisturbed and restorative. When you are in your second trimester and lusty as hell, I will eat you every night and day, sucking that delicious clit of yours and giving you the sweetest orgasms of your life. I will take you from behind when you grow too big for me to take you from the front, and I will satisfy your swollen, tender, juicy pussy with my cock while I caress your giant belly. And I won’t allow you to relax; you’re going to have to hold your hefty self up on all fours until I release you.”

She sucked in her breath. “I promise; I won’t relax, no matter how tiring it is for me to support my extra weight while you plunge into me. Only when you say.”

“When your feet are aching and worn, Daddy will massage them for you, Sweetheart. When your back is killing you, Daddy will knead it and rub it and smoothe out all that tension you build up from getting bigger and bigger. Daddy will rub oil into your sweet, tight belly so your skin can stretch and stretch and stretch. Daddy will feed you when you’re hungry, all that you want, but only what’s good for you and my baby.”

“Yes, Daddy. Of course. You are so good to me.”

“I am. I will care for your aches and your hurts with more love and attention than ever before. Because you know I crave them. Yes?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I want to know them all. Every one. No matter how minor each one may seem to you. No matter if I am sleeping or if I am away. Which I won’t be, much. They are mine to have and hold dear, and to soothe as I see fit. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir. I will keep nothing from you, nothing. I will report every twinge.”

“Good girl.” He stood back from her 3 paces again and she, once again, placed her arms behind her back dutifully.

“Sweetheart. When I am punishing you, what happens when you say our special word?”

“You stop.”

“Mmm hmm. Immediately, yes?”

“Every time. Sometimes before the word is even past my lips.”

“That’s right, Honey. You know - you have always known - that while I may correct and punish you, you have the true control over what I do to you. You have all the power of our special word in your mouth.”

“I do, Sir. And you know that I only use it when I genuinely cannot take any more.”

“Oh yes I do, my little one. I know that. But you see….well. What must happen when you are swelled so large and stretched so tight? When your little pelvis has loosened just enough, and my baby is ready to enter this world through you? What must you do? Say it.”

“I must give birth.”

“Yes. You must. Your many, long days of growing and nourishing my baby must come to an end sometime, as they have in every pregnancy before yours. And then, honey. And then...my baby must come out of you. And that, Sweetheart, is not a process I will have any say or part in. Were it up to me, I might choose to keep you knocked up and enormous and tight-bellied and awkward and hungry and aching forever. But it is not up to me. A higher authority than I will call upon you, and you will be unable to refuse Her. I will not be your Master while you culminate your greatest work, and endure your toughest punishment. Mother Nature will be your Mistress. And Mother Nature, for reasons known only to Her, chooses to punish her daughters with notorious cruelty. Do you understand?”

Sarah’s tongue flicked rapidly over her lips. Her breathing was coming in little hitches. “I understand. I will take it.”

“Yes. You will. But not from me. The power to dole out your pain and relief will be completely out of my hands this time. Your body will be taken over, Darling, by a force that is you but that is also much, much greater than you. Even if I should desire to provide you a moment’s relief, if only to see it register with you before you are wracked in agony again, I will be unable to do so. This time the power will not be mine….or yours. You will succumb to Her and only Her, the ultimate dominatrix, whether you find yourself willing and ready or not. She honors no safe words. Do you understand?”

“I understand. I will suffer.”

“Yes. Oh my dear one, you will suffer terribly. You will tense, perhaps just occasionally at first. Your giant, heaving belly will tighten again and again and again; you will lose count within just a few hours. You will strain and you will struggle. You will moan. Your throat will grow hoarse and your lips will become dry and cracked from your frantic breathing and your cries. You will writhe. Your valiant perseverance through all this will be rewarded only with more brutal and ruthless pain. The wrenchings of your heavy belly will only grow more and more excruciating, a vice that will grip you relentlessly and repeatedly. As they hurt you more, they also will grow longer and will peak harder, and you will get to the point where you will not get much of a break between them, if any at all. Time will stop for you.”

He studied her face and her eyes intensely. He saw resolve and fire. She never could resist a dare. But what he sought most urgently - and found - was the markings of her suppressed arousal.

“You take things so well from me, Honey. You know how I love to hear you beg me and plead with me, yet I can count on one hand the times you have used our special word. When you truly had taken all you could take. But my dear one, when your time comes, all the imploring you have in you will do you no good. There will be no special word. You will be well, well past the point where you thought you could take no more, and then you will be there again. And again. You will take more. She will make you. You may weep and beseech Her for mercy, and She will not only deny you, She will punish you all the harder. You will realize - perhaps 100 times - how much worse it must be before it is better. The only way out, Sweetheart, will be through.”

He reached down to adjust himself and her eyes flicked down and saw the momentary pressure he put on his bulk. He was rock hard, she could see it plainly, and she felt a response instantly, a clenching in her groin as heat pooled in her crotch.

“And Baby. For the inestimable duration of your travail, so torturous for you, all I will be able to do is watch. Watch the slow escalation as you are first so mercilessly squeezed...and then merely observe as you yourself are forced to participate in your own rending. As you anguish and push and stretch impossibly to initiate my baby into this world through your waters, your own initiation into motherhood will be by fire. The Ring of Fire, perhaps the most apt name on earth. All this will be there for me to behold, but there is no part of it I can take for you or away from you. Oh I will be there for you, Sweetness, in any capacity I am able to be. My presence, my touch, my voice, Honey….these things may offer you a paltry comfort, but make no mistake. Where you must go, I cannot follow. There will be no making it go away. There will be no making it stop. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“For my part, I must be content with being a witness only.”

He rubbed himself briefly through his pants again. With his other hand, he hooked his knuckle into the soft flesh beneath her chin bone and moved her so her eyes met his directly. “And I will glory at each fresh and unheralded wave of exquisite agony that twists and contorts your lovely face.”

Sarah puffed out a small breath between her lips. She was pulsing between her legs. God in heaven, hearing him speak to her this way was about to make her climax just standing there. She opened her stance slightly. He saw. Of course he did. He always saw. And the mischievousness of the devil himself sparked in his eyes.

She cleared her throat. “Sir?”

“Yes.”

“If I do this for you, will it - “

“Specifics, Little One. You know I despise ambiguity. If you do what for me? Say it.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I do know that. Your pardon?”

He nodded.

“Sir, if I develop and sustain your baby in my belly for 40 long weeks, and then labor hard to push him out of me, all by myself...will it make you proud of me?”

His face almost softened. “You have no idea. Sweetheart, I will worship you.”

“Then that is merely the cherry on top, Sir. I’ve already decided.”

“Good girl. And, as discussed, unless you or my baby are in danger, the birth will take place here. I and I alone will attend to your needs. There will be no pain relief, outside of what I can provide. Say it.”

“Yes, Sir. When my appointment time with Great Mother comes -”

His head went back in a silent laugh. “By all means, continue.”

“When Great Mother calls me forth for my supreme punishment, only you will be with me. If my torment can be soothed at all, it will be by you.”

He closed the 3 paces of space between them, enveloped her in his arms, and kissed the top of her precious head. “You are the bravest creature I’ve ever met, you know.”

“I know.”

#childbirth #laborfetish #birthfetish #pregnancy #chldbirtherotica

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your-brilliant-lady-m · 3 years

Text

Part 3 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Transformations, Potions and Power-Up's

Welcome to my analysis of basic concepts in Miraculous. Let's talk about transformations, potions and power-up's. This one is going to be interesting.

Apparently, only child superheroes have a time limit and can use their power only once. And adults can use their powers many times and maintain their transformation.

I don't take Thomas Astruc's Twitter statements seriously, but he said that adults don't have to detransform because they can feed the kwami with their energy. What happens when energy runs out? Does it mean that holder of the miraculous dies and transformation drops? Or does transformation drops when the kwami grows tired enough? However, according to "Silencer", transformation can't be released until the holder says detransformation words or uses their power (applies to children only). Is that why Master Fu doesn't transform these days? Because he is old and doesn't have enough energy for Wayzz.

At the same time, Bunnix/Bunnyx held her transformation for several thousand years in "Timetagger" and she was still alive. Moreover, not only she was still alive, she hasn't aged a day. Alix still looked around 25 even after spending so much time in stone. Her sanity was also still intact. Does that mean that as long as people are transformed they are immortal and can't die of natural causes, can't get sick or be killed? Does the Miraculous pause all inner processes? Do people stop ageing when they are transformed? Does that mean that prolonged transformations essentially slowed down puberty for Marinette and Adrien because every Akuma attack (their transformation during this attack to be precise) acts as a pause for their growth process? Does that mean that transformed heroes don't need food, sleep or oxygen? And Alix doesn't experience any negative side-effects after prolonged transformation. A lot of questions must be answered here.

But apparently, the "adults can use their power many times without detransforming" rule does not apply to Gabriel. In "Heroes' Day" he turns Nathalie into Catalyst who gives Hawkmoth the power to "release as many akumas as he desires". Does that mean that he can't normally do it? On the other hand, in "Queen Banana" he creates another Akuma right after the fight with akumatized Chloe ended.

Do you remember this? In "Origins" we find out that akumatized butterflies can multiply. That's why Ladybug needs to purify them. So, does that mean that Scarlet Moth and Catalyst weren't necessary?

Hawkmoth's plan in "Heroes' Day" was actually very smart. However, it can fall apart when you remember that butterflies can multiply. How does that work? Why do they multiply? Could Gabriel akumatize Nathalie into Catalyst (akumatized object is something not very valuable, like a piece of paper), then break the akumatized object and release the Akuma into the world? Would that turn people only into copies of Catalyst? I wouldn't call this thing a plothole, exactly. I'm just curious because it's an unclear moment. Perhaps you could explain it as the element of a soft magic system with unclear rules. Because the magic system in Miraculous is a mix between the hard and soft system.

Adults without time-limited power have a serious advantage over children. Why does Master Fu give Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers then? In the beginning, Fu doesn't know that Butterfly holder is an adult. Isn't it safer to give 2 most powerful Miraculouses to adults just in case? If Butterfly Holder is a child then 2 adults with more powerful Miraculous would win much faster. If Butterfly Holder is an adult as well, then the fight is more even.

We know the out-of-universe reason for doing this. There would be no story then. Miraculous holders have to be kids since it's a kids show. But in-universe it doesn't make sense. In "Furious Fu" Su Han even says that children are not allowed to handle the Miraculous at all according to the rules of the Order. Fu knows that children have a time limit. It looks like he deliberately sets them up for failure. Why?

Is that because children are easier to manipulate as they are most likely to trust Fu's judgement no questions asked? This reasoning doesn't look good for Fu, who is supposed to be a wise and kind mentor. Is that because children won't abuse their powers? Find a trustworthy adult then. Give us some kind of in-universe explanation!

If you can't explain it then do something with the time-limit rule. It's an important plot device, which contributes to tension and raises the stakes during fights. So, removing it is unwise. Consider giving adults a time limit as well then.

Or you can create different rules. Maybe Black Cat and Ladybug can't be wielded by adults, unlike other lower-tier Miraculous? Maybe Miraculous and Kwami can choose the wielder in some capacity, and this magical bond can't be changed? Do Kwamis feel a pull towards several people and Guardian then chooses the final holder? If there's no pull whatsoever, then Kwami won't be able to grant powers to this person? How much weight does the decision of a Guardian have?

I actually like this last idea the most. It makes sense and avoids plotholes at the same time preserving the time-limit rule. I spent less than 20 minutes figuring this out.

This way Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to children because he didn't have a choice. Plagg and Tikki gave him suggestions but these people didn't pass his tests. Marinette and Adrien are the last ones and they do pass. It adds some tension and showcases desperation on Master Fu's part. Magical pull doesn't always mean that potential holders are good people. That's why Miraculous sometimes end up in the wrong hands.

Insert a conversation between Marinette and Tikki or Plagg and Adrien about this choosing process, have them wonder about the bond Nooroo and Hawkmoth share.

Then add more information about bonding. The magical connection can be formed just like people form relationships if human and Kwami spend some time together. It nicely adds up with the reason why Master Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers. He could have given both jewels to adults without a bond and waited for the connection to form but alas, there was no time. He needed active holders right now, and waiting for some adult to come around wasn't an option. But here's the catch. Only decent, kind people with good intentions can earn and create a magical bond. And this has the potential for a truly delicious scenario (more on that later).

It's a very tricky situation. But these rules must be stated and figured out in the very beginning. Because it can create plotholes down the line.

Unification

Combining several different Miraculous is an interesting concept and fusion of powers has been used for a long time as a storytelling element. It's important for the plot in several episodes of seasons 3 and 4.

However, there's "Kwamibuster", where the worldbuilding is broken one more time. It is awfully inconsistent within itself just like "Chat Blanc", "Timetagger" and "Furious Fu". (How do writers keep doing this? I have no idea. But then again even "Avengers: Endgame" contradicts itself numerous times. It's truly miraculous how they managed to do this with their budget, I'm impressed).

For a moment let's ignore all absolutely awful priorities that Marinette has in this episode as well as the rule "you can't know the identity of your partner or else you will have to give up your miraculous". This rule is literally never mentioned again before or after this episode. It's just there and it doesn't make sense. I know it's hard to ignore, but one must try. Instead, let's focus on this dialogue below.

Master Fu clearly states that you can't merge the Miraculous. It could make you lose your mind. The only more or less acceptable unification is that of Ladybug and Black Cat.

What happens next? Marinette puts on every Miraculous without any problem just "to free Kwamis" and transforms into Multimouse. The only sign of her discomfort is a moment of dizziness that's gone in a few seconds. Moreover, it never happens again, it's never mentioned. Then she does the exact thing that Fu told her not to do and starts merging Miraculous left and right. She continues to do so in season 4 every other day. What? Of course, how could I forget Shadowmoth? Gabriel merges 2 Miraculous every time in season 4. He doesn't lose his mind.

You can't tell us that merging can make you lose your mind and then in the next scene show us the complete opposite. That's bad writing. If you need the concept of unification to work then cancel the "lose your mind" rule and instead say that the merging process tires you out. There's no lasting harm, just that you will be very tired. If you want to raise the stakes, then say that wielding more than one Miraculous requires a strong will and practice. It's possible, but you can't perform unification just like that.

In this case, you lay the groundwork for the plotline of Marinette and Adrien for season 4 and 5. This plotline is about mastering unification. Show us how our heroes practice with different combinations of Miraculouses outside of Akuma battles. Show how they are improving. Maybe, Ladybug and Chat Noir nearly lose in the season 3 finale because the unification still drains them. However, in season 4 they put more effort into their training and by the time season 5 rolls around they are good at this. They became a stronger team and partners because of that. Their training sessions are also a good set-up for the development of the love square. Nothing like this will happen, but a girl can dream.

Look, I get it. You want Marinette to be special. Unfortunately, you have made her too special. She starts to break the laws of your magic system. We don't see the process. One moment she has 0 knowledge about something and then she is already an accomplished master of the thing in question and often it happens in the same episode. Marinette somehow just knows about the properties of every Miraculous on-screen, but her training happened off-screen. We as the audience are left confused and wondering. Wait, how does she know this? Was there a missing episode? Was this mentioned in some comic? The audience keenly feels the lack of plot-relevant content and explanations.

Potions and Power-Ups

They are a marketing ploy to sell more toys and merch with character transformations. That's it. Are they useful for the story? Yes, they are sometimes. Do power-up's make sense as a worldbuilding element? I'm sorry to tell you this, but no.

Miraculous Grimoire contains lots of potion recipes for Kwamis. I liked that Kwamis can't read the grimoire to avoid giving information to malevolent holders, which implies that they can't lie to their holder about their powers. I talked about this in my previous posts.

Let's start with Ice Transformation. Apparently, in-universe its only useful characteristic and the thing that sets it apart from normal transformation is skates. Maybe, this transformation also has additional protection from the cold. Maybe. Miraculous makes heroes nearly invulnerable and enhances their physical abilities. I find it hard to believe that protection from elements is not included in the package. And that's it. If we remember that Miraculous holders have subconscious control over transformation's appearance, we can also assume that a person can have conscious control as well. The laws of the magic system in Miraculous allow Marinette to ask Tikki to create skates for this particular transformation. Potions aren't necessary for this. This way you can still sell new toy, but in-universe this works better.

Our next stop is Aqua Transformation. It gives heroes the ability to breathe underwater and fins. That's all. In "Syren" it appears that this transformation also makes them more agile and fast in the water. However, Ladybug's yo-yo worked just fine before Aqua form when she tried to drag Kim to the surface. Her movements underwater weren't restricted either with normal transformation. So their fighting ability is not affected by the potion.

Kwami can live without oxygen. I mentioned earlier that Bunnix with normal transformation in "Timetagger" spent several thousand years in stone without oxygen and probably in some kind of stasis. Do transformed heroes need oxygen? No. Then their inability to breathe underwater doesn't make sense. Therefore, a potion isn't necessary for this.

Next, let's talk about fins. They could appear through the conscious desire of the holder just like skates.

Honestly, "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc" completely destroyed worldbuilding in Miraculous. These episodes just shouldn't exist. They aren't even consistent within themselves, nevermind the rest of the show, which is why I still don't understand why fandom has such a weird hard-on for them and for Bunnix. Oh, wait. On second thought, I get it. They were just fanservice after all.

Cosmo Bug an Astro Chat. Space power-up give heroes the ability to fly and exist without oxygen. Ancient grimoire had the recipe of space potion, apparently. And humans got into space in the second half of the 20-th century. Ok. That totally makes sense.

If ancient people invented a space potion, that could also mean that back in Ancient Egypt Ladybug and Black Cat holders could use advanced technology. But Su Han in "Furious Fu" is surprised to discover that Ladybug can just call Chat Noir. He assumed she would send a bird with a message. That means that unconscious control over transformation extends to the weapons of heroes. For Marinette and Adrien communication means smartphone with navigation, messages, trackers and Bluetooth earbuds. That's why magic gives them smart weapons. Su Han's words prove that the invention of the space potion is not possible. Unless space potion was also subjected to unconscious control over transformation. People couldn't imagine the possibility of space travel in Ancient Egypt, but they could imagine flight. So, perhaps, for heroes back then space potion simply meant wings.

We've established that heroes don't need oxygen. So, a potion isn't necessary for this. The ability to fly also could be achieved through conscious transformation.

That's all for this part of analysis. Let me know what you think. Stay tuned for the next meta. See you!

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous analysis #miraculous meta #ml meta #ml analysis #miraculous transformations #miraculous critical #miraculous ladybug critical #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #mt of lb and cn #miraculous potions #astro chat #cosmo bug

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sixx02 · 3 years

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Feelings

Jaune Arc was currently incredibly absolutely totally embarrassed. He could only watch in shock and horror as his mother was currently gushing over his perfect, wonderful, amazing, splendid, stunning, fantastic friend. Quite possibly his best friend if he was being honest. Of course Lie and Nora were his best friends too! But they were family. Pyrrha though? She was something else. She brought forth a side of him he could never really understand. Sure he sometimes felt inferior but honestly that wasn’t really a her thing, and he swore he was getting better at it. Even if he did feel like he was lagging behind all of his family.

Right he was getting off topic, anyways, as he said horror absolute and utter horror. His mother was currently grilling Pyrrha for all the details of their current lives. “Oh my goodness! You’re absolutely gorgeous!” He watched as Pyrrha’s alabaster skin tinged pink as his mother picked her up pulling the younger girl into a grizzly like hug. Jaune felt so many emotions in his chest, one of them had been a surprisingly large amount of sudden relief. Good his mother liked her, that… that was important he felt. But then there were so many more emotions! He hadn’t expected any of this, and even with Pyrrha’s arrival he couldn’t help but eye Oscar. The poor boy, his heart hurt just thinking of what he must have gone through.

Just like with Nora and Lie, he felt an overwhelming amount of brotherly feelings. Just thinking that there was another child who lost their family, ‘I need to be stronger’. He couldn’t help but think to himself, think that he had to help anyone he could. Snapping out of his daze he watched as his mother was practically strangling Pyrrha. “Uhm ma.” There was no answer as she continued to hug the young girl, “Ma!” He practically shouted at her, causing her to snap out of her child like glee.

“Oh woopsie! I’m sorry dearie, I just adore children.” Understatement of the century, Jaune thought to himself as he heard the footsteps of his other sisters off in the distance. “Well then, why don’t you all introduce her to me?” Jaune took center, he didn’t want to give Nora the chance to embarrass him. He could see the mischievous glee, though he knew that she only had his best interest in heart. But… but he didn’t want her to do anything till he was sure that he himself felt that way about Pyrrha.

“Uhm, she’s Pyrrha, Pyrrha Nikos. She goes to school with us.” He took a step next to her, one that he knew his mother noticed. “She’s also our best friend.”

“She’s Jaune’s bestest friend though.” Nora said in a matter of factly kind of way. He knew she didn’t mean any harm, but he saw the way his mother’s eyes shined. “Oh oh!” Nora suddenly pounced on Pyrrha, “But she’s my battle sister!” Jaune eyed his sister and his… his crush yeah. He could see the curves of her lips tilt upwards. He loved Nora, she really did know how to bring out the brightest of the room.

When Nora let Pyrrha go, his mother made a humming sound. As Lie took his place near them she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you all are doing well.” She took a breath, “I assume that you’re here to spend the night?”

Pyrrha nodded meekly, “Yes ma’am, Jaune invited me over.” It was obvious his friend worried about making a good impression. But when she said his name, Jaune just knew that his mother was going to look at him. And look at him she did.

“Oh, did he really now?” The smile on her face told him everything he needed to know. And, well, he nodded. When her smile shifted to a warmer one he felt his heart calm down. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you deary.”

“Thank you.” Pyrrha gave his mother a nice bow.

Once everything had finished, Jaune didn’t miss the looks he was getting from his other sisters who were peaking around the corners. It was painfully obvious to everyone else, even if he didn’t quite get it yet. No, he was just fooling himself, Pyrrha was amazing and well… his heart beat rapidly whenever they were close.

“Why don’t you all go up stairs and enjoy yourselves?” Nora who was practically bouncing up and down on her heels turned towards Oscar.

“Would you like to join us Oscar?” Her brilliant smile was nearly blinding, and as her older brother Jaune didn’t feel like he was being biased whatsoever. The young boy seemed hesitant, but Nora just had a way with kids. She approached him slowly and smiled warmly, allowing him to let his guard down. “We’d love to get to know you more.”

Jaune could see how much she saw her and Lie in him. Jaune only nodded approvingly, he would also like to get to know their newest little brother. Though, as they were about to head up, he felt his mother’s hand touch his shoulder. “Uhm, you guys can go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Nora and Lie got the hint, heading up first followed by Oscar who decided to join them after all.

Pyrrha on the other hand watched him worriedly, he simply gave her a warm smile. Once she seemed satisfied she followed after the trio, dragging her bag alongside her. Though he didn’t miss the few times that she glanced back at him.

“Ahem.” His mother cleared her throat, this was the signal for everyone else to vacate the room. Which they did, no one crossed their mother. Jaune turned towards her, their eyes met and he felt a warmth travel across him. “She is a very pretty girl.”

He nearly gasped for air, but he knew that this was where the conversation was going to head to. Still… it didn’t stop him from being anxious, “She… she is.” He felt his heart thump loudly, his ears beating like drums. His pulse grew fast as he continued to keep his eyes deadlocked with his mothers.

“Do you like her?” And there it was, the question he was dreading. He just… he wasn’t sure. He… he wasn’t good at these kinds of things. Especially with someone as amazing as Pyrrha. He didn’t deserve… no that wasn’t the right word. That was… it was stupid thinking right? At least that’s what he tried to tell himself. He felt inferior. Not just to her mind you, but to everyone. Memories of his past… no Pyrrha wasn’t like her. She wasn’t like Flanna, she could never be like her.

“I… I’m not…” He heard the tapping of her foot on the wooden floor. She wasn’t going to take half truths. “I don’t know… I’m just… mom…” His lip quivered and his throat grew dry. He just, he did, he did like Pyrrha. But he wasn’t… he couldn’t, would she even be happy with him? He knew, he really did that it didn’t matter if he was worthy or not. That was stupid thinking! It was stupid thinking, and he was an idiot. “I… would she even…”

He stiffened as she pressed her palm against his shoulder. Her hand tightened around him, “Oh sweetie. You’re amazing, and I’m not saying that just cause you’re my son.” His gaze drifted downwards as he shifted awkwardly. “Honey, I’ve never met anyone who puts half the effort you do into improving yourself. If you make a mistake you try to correct it, I know… that things hadn’t been easy for you. Especially with… that incident. But darling.” She pulled him into a tight hug. “You’ll never know if you don’t try to ask.”

She was right, she really was. “If you don’t ask, you could miss out on something amazing. And if you do, and it doesn’t work out? You could always remain friends. I know it’s scary, gods know that I panicked when asking out your father.”

His head snapped back to her, his eyebrow cocking slightly. “Yes I was the one to ask him, bloody hell, he would never have summed up the courage to ask me.” A mirthful chuckle escaped her lips as she continued to hold him close. “Sweetie, I think you’ll be fine. I’m a good judge of character, and I can see that she’s different.”

Jaune felt his breath hitch in his chest as he wrapped his arms around his mothers back, his fingers dug into her clothing as he held her tightly. He was scared, he really was. But… but Pyrrha wouldn’t mock him, she wouldn’t toy with his feelings. He… he didn’t need to be worthy of anything other than her own affection. And if she didn’t see him that way, then it was simply not meant to be.

He turned his head down one more time and nodded, “Okay.” Looking back at his mom he felt her hold him close once more.

“Good luck son.” Her warm and motherly voice filled him with confidence. He knew it was odd to get dating advice from his mother, but she has had a long marriage as well as a ton of kids. If his parents’ relationship was still going well then she must have known something.

Every step he made up to their shared room was daunting, each step felt closer to his execution. He could practically feel his heart throbbing in his chest. Finally he reached the door, his legs locked in place as he felt his breathing become heavy. He could feel his palms grow sweaty, he couldn’t do this. He just couldn't. There was no way this would wo-

His entire world fell to a halt as the door opened before he could even knock. “Oh hello!” Pyrrha was in front of him with her hair untied, he’d only ever seen it in a ponytail. He felt his heart stop and his breathing stilled. Apparently she noticed the shift in his disposition, “Jaune, are you alright?”

“Oh uhm!” He felt the words caught at the edge of his lips. His tongue twisted as he tried to gather his courage. Then he caught Nora out of the corner of his eye. She was smiling brightly, her thumbs lifted up as if to encourage him. Lie was doing something similar, a soft smile on his face while Oscar sat there confused.

“Pyrrha?”

“Yes Jaune?” The way she tilted her head slightly to the right sent little jolts of joy to his heart. Oh gosh, he really was going to do this! He needed to calm himself down, but even as his heart pounded loudly in the middle of his chest, thumping over and over. He still couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy and excitement.

“Can I uhm. Ouch!” He bit his tongue slightly.

“Are you okay?!” The panic in his voice was oddly endearing. Placing his hand in front of him he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine… I’m sorry I just… can we talk alone?” The following silence was agonizing, the way she examined hima s if trying to get a beat on what he was asking.

Finally she nodded.

He heard a loud whoop coming from the room as she closed the door behind him. He needed a good place to ask, taking a slow step he made his way towards the guest room. The soft thumps of Pyrrha’s steps behind him sent powerful jolts through his mind. His panic was reaching an all time high as his blood pulsed and beat rapidly in his veins. He was terrified, but there was now ay that he wasn’t going to do this. He had to resolve himself, he couldn’t chicken out now.

Finally they reached the room, opening it so she could go in first he made sure no one was following him. Thankfully after a few seconds of inspection he didn’t see any of his siblings. Taking one last deep breath before entering after her, he closed the door.

“Pyrrha?”

“Yes Jaune?” Oh gosh, she was just so amazing. Even a simple question caused his heart to thump wildly.

“Pyrrha, we’ve been friends for a few months now, and uhm… you’re… you’re honestly amazing.”

“Oh!” Even he could catch the blush off of her porcelain like skin. His own face grew warm as he tried to calm himself.

“Right, uhm… Pyrrha I…” Oh god he was getting tongue tied, he felt his eyes flutter as his pulse grew out of control. He was starting to shake and break out into a cold sweat. He couldn’t… he couldn’t…

“Jaune?” He felt a hand wrap around his, his eyes drew upwards catching her gorgeous emeralds. “Jaune, I’m… I’m not sure what’s going on.” He didn’t believe that, “But… but… no matter what. I’m here for you okay?” Her grip around his hand tightened.

Right he didn’t need to worry. “Pyrrha I like you.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so… so naturally? But it had, there was no doubt in his mind that he felt for her, or what he felt for her. “I like you a lot, not in the same way I like Nora or Lie… I… I really like you.”

He expected an awkward silence, what he got was him suddenly being pulled into a tight and bone crunching hug. Air left his lungs as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “Sniff~” There was a soft sniffle coming from her as she pressed her head into the crick of his neck.

“Py-Pyrrha?” Had he done something wrong?!

“I was so worried!” Her grip tightened around him as she tightened them closer. “I was so worried you didn’t feel the same.”

“O...oh!” OH! She… she felt the same… she felt the same! He didn’t, he couldn’t… he wasn’t able to think. Instead he did all he could think of, his own arms reached around her back pulling her close to one another. The two of them held one another close for a near 30 minutes, neither wanting to part. He had placed his own head against hers, delight and joy filled his heart. And for the first time for as long as he could remember, he felt quite alright. No, he was better than alright. He was absolutely happy, ecstatic, joyous even!

“I’m so happy…”

He wasn’t sure which one of them said it, but it didn’t matter. Everything felt… it felt like everything would be alright.

#Arkos #Jaune Arc #Pyrrha Nikos #Nora Valkyrie #Oscar Pines #Lie Ren #JNPR #Team JNPR #RWBY #Lil JNPR

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

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Snow Day with the Akatsuki

Deidara Although at first he tries to act like he’s above being excited, in truth, this guy is salivating from all three mouths to get outside and play in the snow. He’s a bit of a freeze-baby though, so he’ll put on a heavy coat, no less than 5 pairs of socks, gloves AND mittens, boots, a thousand scarves and look like a tick ready to burst. Once he is outside, it’ll be ridiculously hard to get him to come back in. He creates what must be hundreds of snow men and women; ALL of which will explode like soldiers stepping in the wrong spot on a minefield. He’ll throw himself down a steep hill on a sled more times than seems feasible. At some point will convince the others who dared venture outside into an all-out snowball fight war, complete with teams, safety fortresses, and even more strategic effort than they use on their actual missions. Kakuzu Nope. Nu-uh. You couldn’t convince the old guy to come out in the snow EVEN IF YOU PAID HIM. But a snow day means a break from traveling and doing missions, which is nice. He’ll spend the day in a warm sweater, drinking coffee or cocoa and catching up on his reading ((the Bingo Book counts as reading)). Will constantly have to yell at the ones who run in and out of the house all day, as opening the door lets out the heat, and dammit, coal is expensive. Will also have to be on constant guard against Hidan, as the immortal jerk will undoubtedly try (several times) to sneak up behind Kakuzu to drop a handful of the cold wet stuff down his back. Itachi Doesn’t want to do anything other than sit in his room under a blanket, at first. But eventually Hidan, Kisame and freakin’ Deidara burst into his room and convince him to come out and “Have some damn fun once in a while, hm!” Stands for a long time and waxes poetic about the beauty of the snow, and how winter represents coldness and death and — but then someone ((Deidara)) throws a snowball at his face, he sees it coming with his sharingan and dodges it, and fairly quickly he becomes just another big kid playing in the snow. Has a thing for making snow angels, and will spend literal hours trying to create the “perfect” one ((think: Itachi vs the Eggs)). Also cracks the first “joke” that anyone’s ever heard come out of him: he tells Kisame that he should go inside and warm up a bit, because he’s so cold he’s ‘turning blue’. Tobi Tobi is, unexpectedly, a bit leery of the snow. Almost seems like it scares him, in a way. Turns out that any kind of extreme coldness puts Obito’s mind back to when he got Crushed by the Boulder ™️, and how cold his entire body felt as he almost slipped into death. But as Tobi, he tries hard not to show this and forces himself to join the others. Keeps mostly to himself until Deidara finds him and recruits him to be a member of his team in The Great Snowball Wars ™️. Nobody can figure out why it seems like even direct hits to the masked man just seem to be going right through him. After he’s had enough, he’ll go inside and “help” Konan make hot chocolate and sweet tea for the others. Pein Doesn’t go outside himself, naturally. But will watch from an unseen vantage point, as his “children” frolic in the shining white powder. Seeing this gives Nagato a strange feeling in what used to be his heart. All members of the Akatsuki had been put there for a purpose, HIS purpose; to achieve world peace. But the blood and sacrifices these individuals had to make were tremendous, and he knows that everybody is under more stress than seems endurable. Seeing them being able to drop their burdens once in a great while and spend time with one another in non-threatening situations is heartening. But at the same time, he doesn’t want the team to get TOO relaxed or lose their battle instincts, so will send the multiple Pein bodies outside to act as the opposing team in the snowball fight, to test how everyone works together as a single unit against an ‘enemy’. Hidan Even with the snow, even in the freezing cold, Hidan is too much of an idiot to put on a shirt. He’ll wear his Akatsuki robe but that’s really it. Extreme cold

is just another way for him to test the “limits” of his immortality; can frostbite or hypothermia kill this guy? Will wander off from the others for a few hours and go searching for a sacrifice; he just knows that the way the blood will look on the snow will be beautiful. He’ll come back just in time to join a team (or work alone) for a snowball fight — or a snowman building contest — or an igloo building contest ((honestly Hidan considers EVERYTHING to be a contest; he’s highly competitive)). If Konan ventures outside, he’ll gravitate to her and make immature (but expected) commentary about what the cold is doing to her, er, pointy frontal region; quite a few slaps to the face, and not all from the blue-haired beauty.

Sasori

Doesn’t feel heat or cold in his body, so being outside really doesn’t appeal much to him. However, winter weather is a good opportunity for him to test out some of his newer puppet’s battle capabilities, as well as study the effects of how external temperature impacts the potency of his poisons. Will also be keeping an eye on his young partner, and checking to make sure that the blonde’s enthusiasm for being in the snow isn’t blinding him towards possible hypothermia.

Konan

This little lady isn’t the biggest fan of the cold, so much of her day will be spend indoors, making treats and hot drinks for the others. If she does venture outside, she’ll use her papers to create wings for herself, and fly around the area to observe the beauty of the snowy landscape from above. The others will stare at her in awe and admiration; she makes the ultimate “snow angel”. Might be persuaded to partake in sledding, or building a snowman, if she’s in the right mood.

Zetsu

Zetsu is strictly a warm sunshine kind of plant/person, so the snow and the cold hold no appeal for him whatsoever. He’ll stay inside all day under every spare blanket he can find, as well as a heating lamp (which Kakuzu will complain about, as anything that uses up energy like that is probably costing them money). If winter weather lasts for a long time, will become somewhat animal-like as he goes into “hibernation” mode; eating a lot and sleeping a ton. Also, in the cold weather, the small animals that he tends to feast on are harder to find, so his fellow Akatsuki members would be wise to stay out of his sight (and range of smell) during his more hungry periods.

Kisame

Being half-shark, his body is more suited than the others to withstand the cold. Snow is fascinating to him, and he’ll spend a long time just picking up handfuls, feeling them, studying their texture and consistency. The younger ones (Deidara and Hidan) introduce him to the concept of sledding; which he finds a bit pointless ((he’s so tall that his legs stick out of the sled anyway, so he never really goes that fast)) but interesting. Also likes to watch Itachi, as the man makes some surprisingly beautiful snow sculptures ((before they’re inevitably blown up by Deidara, anyway)). If they come across a pond, Kisame will strip down, break through the ice and jump in to swim, much to the horror of the others. Hidan will see Kisame swimming in the freezing water as him ‘showing off’, declare that he can do it too, jump in ... and sink like a brick. Kisame will have to dive deep to pull him out, which Hidan will complain about, saying he was ‘Just warming up, you stupid fucks!” Kisame finds that his multiple water jutsus also work with the snow, making him one of the more fierce opponents during snowball fights.

#the akatsuki #snow day #deidara #sasori #zetsu #obito #tobi #konan #nagato #hidan #kakuzu #itachi uchiha #kisame

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satyr-syd · 3 years

Text

Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.

Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.

Well this sucks.

He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.

Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.

Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?

While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.

read on ao3

fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!

“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.

By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.

Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”

“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”

Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.

“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.

Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”

“Neither have I.”

Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”

The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.

“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”

“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”

Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”

“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.

Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.

See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.

“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.

Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.

“I’m not your sensei.”

“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”

“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ - sen-sei.”

Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.

“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”

This is it, Sero told himself. Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.

Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.

There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.

Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.

The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.

But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”

“Guess they’ll die, then.”

Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”

Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”

“Well - ”

“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”

“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.

Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.

Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.

Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did no one turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on and the AC miraculously began working again?

Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like some people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).

13) Convert 2x−5x 3 =1+xy into polar coordinates.

Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.

Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away. Got’em.

“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”

Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”

“Yeah, wonder why.”

Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).

Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.

Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.

He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”

“Most people.”

Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”

Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like he’s special…fuck.

“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ” nearly sitting in my fucking lap, “ - sharing personal space.”

“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”

“I’m a lot more distracted now.”

A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy? But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a personal rejection from the great hero Shouto.

“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”

And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.

Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.

The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -

“Hanta.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”

And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.

Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?

As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.

Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #seroroki #sero hanta #todoroki shouto #my writing

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