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piracytheorist · 6 months

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Episode 30 thoughts!

OKAY OKAY OKAY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY

alternate title is "Local anime only is introduced to the entity that is Shopkeeper".

MY GOD. I had no idea we'd see him so soon. I'm so glad his appearance is no longer a spoiler to me XD

To start with, Yor seems quite tense while she's going out to meet with him.

A detail that the anime omitted, is that it seems he was caught by surprise by Yor. Is she so stealthy she can even sneak up on him?

He's... omg he's scary. At the same time he's got one very smooth and sexy voice. I know we heard him on the phone but oh it's so different to hear him from up close. I'm going to feel very conflicted about him, methinks XD

Of course, when he talks about "pruning and watering" and stuff he definitely doesn't talk just about his garden :)

The music was perfect for his introduction. The garden we see around him looks so peaceful and serene, but the music greatly encapsulates that ominous feeling that "This guy is a LOT".

Ho-lee SHIT

My dude! My bro! Isn't this one of your best assassins or what??

The fact that he's willing to risk decapitating her on the spot just in case she lost one (1) iota of her perfect form is terrifying. And he laughs about it. The fuck. And Yor has been working for him since she was a teenager? O_O

I mean, when I said he's got presence I didn't mean it's not a diabolical one. But holy shit.

Is... is that person in the back wearing a sheet over their head like they're pretending to be a ghost? I'm noticing the important details here!

Shopkeeper looks like he really holds this mission to great value, and feels greatly indebted to protect Olka. It's very interesting that he's entrusting this mission to Yor.

At the same time, we see his face as Yor says she'll need an excuse for the family, and he is NOT impressed.

Like geez does ANYONE in her circles not have negative feelings about this wedding? First Yuri then her coworkers then even Shopkeeper like does ONE person go like "That was a good decision you made"?

I mean, if Shopkeeper really values her... it's not like it doesn't look like he has the power to provide her with some cover. He looks so imposing and Yor is so okay with his tactics I doubt she hasn't told him the marriage was just for convenience, so why didn't he go like "Nah ditch them I'll give you the cover you need"? He looking kinda sus rn ngl.

Final detail: the thingies hanging from the strap of his hat are the same shape of Yor's earrings. Nice detail.

It's interesting that Yor's demeanor doesn't change around him. She's still as lively and sweet as we already know her.

I love how after we saw how Yuri stayed up for days to catch Perkin, he fell asleep like that on the subway. Consequences!

Talking about people in Yor's circles not accepting her marriage...

Yuri is even VERY audacious in how he says he'll never accept Loid. Yor is way too patient with him, but I guess she can't help it. She loves him too much for her own good, and that was evident by the way she decided to become an assassin just to provide him with an education she completely ignored for herself.

I was surprised by the flashing screen but seeing Yuri run for the train as if he could somehow pull it back was hilarious. What a lad.

Yor is just now wondering if there's any point in her keeping her assassin job, when it's been at least a year that Yuri has been financially independent. It really makes me wonder where her money from her jobs really goes to... and considering Shopkeeper's behaviour, if she even gets paid fairly as an assassin. I wouldn't rule out him taking advantage of her in that regard over the years.

So I think it would be interesting to consider that Shopkeeper is trying to keep Yor in his employ by uhm... idk, brainwashing her? With all that "keeping the world beautiful" and whatnot. I mean, she took that job out of need and having no other choice, she's very good at it, (probably) is okay with getting paid unfairly, and takes at least an entire year after Yuri became independent to question whether she should stay in this job. She's a good and willing workhorse, is all I'm saying. Shopkeeper wouldn't want to lose that, would he?

Again, that's just an anime-only's blabbers. But that's what's good with Endo's work - just from one character introduction you can get a lot of insight!

Your honour I love them.

Look at their faces. Look at them.

Anya looks so happy while in line for the raffle. I'm so happy she was able to rig the rigged contest and get herself a winning ticket.

I'd seen this face from people sending me spoiler-free manga screenshots, but I had never expected it to be a "Sucks to be you, bitch" kinda face. I love her XD

I do gotta say though, it's VERY convenient that she happened to earn a ticket for the exact same cruise Yor would be on. But I'm not complaining - I mean, we wouldn't have much of a story otherwise XD

If anything, it would not be out of the ordinary if Anya heard about the raffle, then heard from Yor's thoughts about the details of the cruise, then found a way to earn those tickets. But I digress.

Dear director. Why are we getting a full front view of Loid's ass. Not that I'm complaining, just curious.

I actually felt a little touched when Loid said Yor should go with Anya. Like I know it's because he has no "for the mission" excuse to go on the cruise and instead has an "I have a lot of work to do" excuse, but it still felt pretty sweet he thought they'd have fun together on the trip. Or something. Delusion what is that

I love their expressions here. Yor struggling with her excuse and Twilight, Best Spy of WestalisTM, being the lovestruck idiot he is, he just buys it.

I loved this. Devil Anya didn't even go for something "bad" she was just like "ANYA WANTS OCEAN, ANYA SHALL HAVE OCEAN."

At some point she's going to become the boy who cried wolf with how many times she's threatening to go bad if things don't go her way. Even Loid doesn't look that concerned by that "threat" any longer XD

I knew the cruise was happening, so I knew somehow Twilight would manage to get time off, but I didn't expect it would be that easy... and when we switched to Sylvia approving the vacation, the cowbell sound effect pretty much ended me

And... wow. I did not expect Twilight has that sort of fear for Handler.

In the manga we can even see how intense his face is.

Is that an accurate expectation or is it just Twilight's overreacting and overthinking mind? We saw how that's something Shopkeeper would definitely do with Yor but from what we know of Handler I would not expect something like that. I think it's mostly Twilight's perfectionism and dedication to his job, as well as how much he's accepted for it over the years. He's willing to accept anything, so he's always expecting the worst... even if it's not an accurate representation of reality.

It's also very coincidental that Handler was admonished for overworking her agents just as Twilight needed time off. It's probably Endo reminding us that deep down it's a comedy show and things just work and I'm just looking too deep into it XD

She's not wearing the rings anymore. Perhaps she caught on to the fact that they were given to her as a joke?

"Go rest and have fun! That's an order!"

Yor catches herself about thinking of having fun on the trip and berates herself.

Since she's already reached the point of accepting she appreciates her part in the family and not just for the cover it gives her, I think it gives an extra layer to how dedicated she is to doing a good job. She knows it's an important job she needs to take seriously and concentrate on. Family fun would be just a distraction... and she's not used to such distractions in her job, after all.

And yes Yuri was in her life, but he was always separate from the job. Now she's got the two of them riding on the same ship!

And that alone makes her reach the question of whether she could just... stop working as Thorn Princess. My god, good luck with that when you have such a boss O_O

SOME GOOD CGI ACTION OOOOOOOHHHHH

No wonder Anya lost it.

Yor looked so happy while next to Loid and Anya, then she met up with her coworkers and a completely different mask slipped on.

This family should come with a label that says "Do Not Separate".

A grand entrance to the ship, with suspicious characters joining in! And new music I'm not recognizing! Lots of interesting stuff :D

I love that we get to see Anya with Loid here. It's obvious Loid hasn't had fun in probably ever, and he's still not got the gist of "relaxing" yet.

I actually love the face he has in the manga. He almost looks... curious. Like this is something new to him, and it probably is. He doesn't have his usual calculating face. The "order" to relax was one thing, but maybe Anya's excitement is rubbing off on him.

Anya's reaction to their room was priceless. They showed it so well XD

Hey, at least they have a window! Most third-class rooms in ships don't even have that.

Local anime only is also finally introduced to that McMahon guy.

It's so funny that I've seen his name everywhere yet I had no idea what he looked like. Well, now I know XD

So we're told the father as well as the two oldest sons of the Gretcher family were killed because of infighting, yet it looks like the youngest member is still a baby.

Those are some interesting family dynamics. Were the sons mentioned this woman's sons, or was one her husband? Or was the boss her father and the sons her brothers? Also, interesting pin on the lapel there.

Similarly, this suit Yor is wearing is the only piece of clothing aside from her office clothes that doesn't have the rose-shaped buttons everything else she wears has.

The guy goes like yo will that Forger woman be enough and McMahon looks like he's like bruh you have no idea. She may be just one but she's enough for twenty.

The little kid is so cute. I felt touched when Olka said that he probably recognizes her as his mother from her voice and her scent.

Olka asks for a favour, to be let out for a bit, and Yor is kind and empathetic enough to indulge her. Most other bodyguards wouldn't be so lenient. Though I guess this is what, in the end, causes her to be caught...

Anya is being Anya.

One (1) stomach ulcer acquired.

I loved how they put shadows on his face for this part.

He's fully prepared to treat the ship as a place where he may be attacked, and to gather as much intelligence as he can for his surroundings. That is, until Anya reminds him why they're there.

And he takes it upon himself to have the most fun ever! For the mission!

I think we will all lose our minds when this man bursts into genuine, uncontrollable laughter. We're clowning him now but when such real emotion bursts out of him I think we won't be able to handle it.

It's a small moment, and it's shown in a comedic way, but it's also heartbreaking to know how he genuinely doesn't know how to have fun. What does this man enjoy watching? What music does he like? What foods are his favourites? We don't know, and the sad part is, he doesn't either. Twilight has no identity and thus no preferences, no profile and no favourite things.

Leave it to me to take a humorous scene and turn it into crying about Twilight hours.

At least Twilight isn't the only one lying to himself. Like two peas in a pod, they're trying to distance themselves from the family. Meanwhile Anya and Bond are like "They are my fambly and I'll love them forever :3"

She looks so cute! And I love Olka's comment about how Loid wouldn't recognize her, lmao if only you knew.

You kind of feel for Olka. Regardless of whether she was born or married into the criminal family, it's the kind of life you can't leave easily. And I mean, morality issues aside, Yor's hands are not clean either, so it was sweet to see them bond, and to even have Olka entrust her with Gram's real name.

Sadly, this move of trust is what caught the attention of dude with long beard and impressive hearing.

Just like the way Franky describes Garden assassins, this guy looks to have some supernatural levels of hearing and comprehending, since he's monitoring dozens of listening devices at the same time and still manages to hear one word that tips him off to who his target is posing as.

Overall, an amazing introduction to this new arc! I'm so excited to see the plot and the characters develop, and especially some long-overdue focus on Yor! It's promising a lot of action and character and even humor with Anya dealing with a "gotta relax and have fun!" Loid. Can't wait :D

#Spy x Family #sxf reaction

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welcome-back-to-hoimycraf · 2 months

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Winter had always been Scott’s favorite time of year. Don’t get him wrong, Rivendell was always great, but the mixture of festivities and weather made a soft spot in his heart. The decorations, the drinks, the food, the celebrations, it was truly so joyful. Getting to see the other empires covered in the snow Rivendell had year-round was also a bonus. Well- except maybe the Cod Empire.

When Jimmy had confided that he’d never really experienced snow before, being farther north than most other kingdoms, Scott was baffled. How could you live without feeling the frost chill the air at least once in your life? At Scott’s appalled expression, the cod had explained that he never really had an excuse to visit somewhere with snow, seeing as his only allies lived so close- other than Scott.

So that’s what brought them to the small lake on the Rivendell border. They would’ve stayed closer to town, but the only water accessible there were the terrace ponds, which weren’t quite big enough for what they had in mind. Plus, being out of the public eye soothed Jimmy’s nerves a bit. The avian was sympathetic; learning to skate for the first time could be embarrassing when surrounded by people.

As the two approached the ice, Jimmy started to figet- well, more than usual. Scott raised an eyebrow at the cod. “That nervous?”

Jim stuttered out a laugh as he tucked more hair behind his fins. “Kinda?”

The elf quickly passed over a ribbon for the other man’s hair, which he accepted with a surprised thanks. “Don’t be. We’ve all been there, it just takes some practice. You’ll get the hang of it.”

The Codfather rolled his eyes as he tied a bun that quickly fell apart. “Yeah, I’ll take your word for it, Mister Ice-Prince.”

“King,” he corrected. As Jim let out a light apology, Scott hummed in thought before landing on an idea. “Here, I’ll tell you a story. Would that make you feel better?”

That seemed to peak the blonde’s interest as he stopped re-tying his hair, causing it to fall back into his face. Scott giggled and Jimmy blew the strands out of his eyes. “Yeah?”

They’d made it to the edge of the ice, so they took it as an opportunity to exchange their boots for skates while Scott talked.

“Y’know, the first time me and my-” The elf paused for a second before continuing, “... sibling learned to skate, we both did pretty bad.”

Jim only huffed playfully as he struggled to tie the laces. “Hard to imagine you doing anything wrong first try.”

Scott smirked. “Why, thank you!” The man brought a hand up to his chest, putting on a smug expression. “I know I'm perfect.”

One light slap to the arm and some bickering later, the avian continued, “Well, we did. I almost cut their fingers off with the blades!” Scott snickered at the memory. Xornoth’s screech and the subsequent play-fight would always be a good memory for him to look back on. Though, it seemed like Jimmy thought otherwise. The cod looked absolutely horrified.

“You can do that?” He shouted in disbelief.

Scott shook his head in an attempt to reassure Jim before he backed out of this all together. “No, of course not!” He paused. “Not that I know of.”

“Hey!”

It took a bit of coaxing to get the fish on the ice while he complained the whole time. Something about freezing his gills off or something, Scott wasn’t really paying attention as he made sure Jimmy didn’t fall.

The couple made their way to the center with no lack of wobbling and yelping thanks to the newbie skater, Scott making fun of the blonde’s lack of grace or dignity the whole way. He stopped them in the center, making sure to give them a good bit of space to work with.

“So, Jim,” he said, grabbing the Codfather’s attention away from griping, “The first lesson of skating you have to learn-” Scott broke out in a mischievous grin as he let go of Jimmy’s hands and watched the man scramble to keep his purchase, “-is how to balance!”

“WAAHHHH- SCOTT!” He yelled, eyeing the elf’s graceful circles around the lake. Scott only giggled and made a sharp U-turn, completely just to show off. It was laughable, the difference between the two. With Scott’s smooth gliding and Jimmy’s slipping like a newborn calf, they must’ve looked like quite the pair.

Scott took a bit longer to tease his partner before going in to help before anyone got hurt and started to actually teach the man how to do it properly. It took a bit of guiding and praise, but Jimmy soon got the hang of it. Well, only if he held tightly to Scott’s arm the whole time, but neither of them were complaining. Before long, they got into the rhythm of the ice. It was like a dance: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, spin. Scott wordlessly thanked the dancing lessons he’d been forced into as a kid for finally having a use all this time later.

So of course, they got comfortable. That was before a sharp bang rang out. It echoed through the trees and empty snow, most likely scaring off any animals nearby as well as the two on the ice. Scott made the move to stop them abruptly, pausing to listen out for anything he could identify as the cause of the noise.

It only took a few ticks before Jimmy got anxious, not being able to take the tense atmosphere any longer. “Scott?”

“Shh!” He warned, lowering his voice,” I don’t-”

That was the last he could do as he watched Jimmy try to turn and get a better look at the elf and figure out what the hell was going on. The sharp noises started up again and Scott finally recognized what they were. Cracking .

Panic rushed through him. Sure, he’d probably be fine- but Jimmy wasn’t used to this kind of water. He’d freeze for sure. Scott gripped Jimmy’s hand to pull him out of his stupor and onto solid ground. “Jim- we have to go!”

“What’s happening?” The cod yelled in panic.

Scott barely even had time to turn and explain hurriedly before the cracking got louder. The two could only watch as the thin lines moved to the underneath of their feet, stopping only for a second, then giving way beneath their weight. They plunged into the frigid water with nothing but a yell to let the empty woods know of their disappearance.

Thankfully, Scott wasn't very fazed by the temperature. His heavy clothes were mostly for style rather than function, and the cold never really bothered him anyway, so he was able to keep to his senses. Though, Jimmy wasn’t as lucky. It was clear that the shock had gotten to him quickly as he sank to the depths, leaving Scott to do all the hard work himself.

The Rivendelian groaned as he hoisted Jimmy back to the surface, panting heavily while dragging them both back on the ice. Shouldn’t the universe know he wasn’t cut out for this kind of labor?

Scott looked back over to where Jimmy lay on the frozen surface, unmoving besides his harsh shivering, and sighed. Things always had to go wrong, didn’t they?

It took a while to tread back to the castle, and less for the servants to whisk them inside for a warm bath and new, dry clothes. Before long, the two were cuddled up in Scott’s small apartment he’d built behind the main castle, sipping hot chocolate and huddling for warmth. Well, Jimmy was huddling for warmth that Scott wasn’t allowing him, given his cold nature.

“Jim, you’re gonna set yourself alight if you keep getting closer,” the elf warned as Jimmy edged closer to the fireplace.

All he got in response was a pathetic whine that broke Scott’s heart a bit. “But I’m colddddd…”

“I know,” he sighed, “and I’m sorry your first time skating turned out so bad.”

Jim sniffed, most likely due to his runny nose. “Issokay. Not your fault.”

The cod leaned over to rest his head on Scott’s shoulder before shivering and highly regretting that decision, so they decided to put a layer of blanket between them to help with that. Scott bent and pressed a kiss to Jimmy’s crown- a silent apology.

Quiet passed between them for what seemed like hours when the almost audible sound of Scott getting an idea broke it. “What if I take the next few days off to make it up to you?”

The Codfather smirked at that. “Hmm…” he started in fake thought, “I guess that might work.” He shrugged.

Scott flicked his cheek, getting a yelp and some choice words out of the cod.

In the back of his mind, he started making plans of what he might do to get Jim’s spirit back up.

#my fanfic #fanfic #empiresfic #empires smp #empires s1 #empiresshipping #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #the codfather #scott smajor #scott of rivendell

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thiswasinevitableid · 7 months

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Fall Fun (Indruck)

The runner up of the spooky creatures poll was "person indebted to a pumpkin demon."

Thanks to @bellafarallones2 for playing in this space on discord. This ended up being SFW, but if you need your horny pumpkin demon fix, I got you covered. And you can find even more plant demons here

Indrid Cold sits on the bedroom floor of his tiny studio apartment. The one that’s not up to code and he’s paying for under the table. The one he has just drawn green chalk markings all across the floor of.

In retrospect, it was always going to come to this.

Last year, the instant he turned 18, he moved out of his father’s huge, historic house and as far as his limited funds would carry him. Which turned out to be the other side of town. For awhile the combination from his pay at the Dollar General and commissions for his art were enough to keep him afloat. But now someone, he’s almost positive it’s his father, has bought the building he’s living in and jacking up the rent.

Indrid doesn’t have as many tools at his disposal as he’d like. But he’s got a strange book he found at a thrift store and a willingness to get weird, and that will have to do for now.

He finishes drawing the circles and lights the candles–orange–and reads the incantation. As the last word leaves his lips, the markings turn to vines, sprouting across the floorboards until he’s sitting in the middle of a pumpkin patch. A massive, orange pumpkin rises from the ground, nearly hits the ceiling before opening with a wet crack.

A figure steps from within, and for a moment Indrid thinks he’s in a Washington Irving story; the man’s body is topped with a green pumpkin head, its eyes flickering with fire, and he’s clad in a green cape and riding clothes.

The demon stares down at Indrid, then looks at his own feet.

“Aw fuck, thought this spell’d been wiped from the books.”

“...excuse me?”

The demon picks pumpkin guts from his sleeves, “This entrance is messy as all get out. Wrote a new one where I just kinda poof into place. Guess you must’ve found a real old book. Whelp, no point in dwellin’ on it; what can I do for you?”

Indrid cannot decide if the friendly demeanor or the southern accent is more wrong-footing, but he clears his throat and says, “I wish to make a pact, great and terrible one.”

“Okay, shoot.” The demon sets his gloved hands on his hips.

“I…I want you to make it so that no one owns this building, but that no one makes me own it and, I don’t know, pay taxes on it or something. I just want to live here and be left alone.”

The demon looks around, then makes his way to the door and flips the light switch, leaving Indrid squinting under the bare bulbs.

“Hate to say it, slim, but it kinda looks like no one owns it now.”

“Yes, it does give that impression. But right now it costs me $800 a month with the promise of climbing more.”

The demon whistles, an odd, low tone, “Damn. Yeah, I can do that. But you gotta…uh, one sec” He pulls a faded, green book from his pocket and quickly scans the pages, “lemme see…looks like the best I can do is that favor in exchange for a year's worth of service to me. Bit steep, but we got brackets for this stuff that we gotta follow.”

“Done.” It’ll take him that long to save up for a move anyway.

The demon holds out a hand, and when Indrid shakes it he feels vines and wood beneath, not skin. As carved eyes flash green flame, he’s glad he didn’t ask for more.

“Deal’s in place. I’ll be around in a day or two. Gotta figure out how to put you to work.” He winks, then sinks into the floor with a “see you around, slim.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

“You gonna come hang out tonight?” Barclay slips an extra cookie into Indrids’ bag as he picks up his order.

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for offering but I will be busy.”

His friend looks worried enough that Indrid almost feels bad for the fact that what he’ll be busy doing is staring at the wall and wondering what the point of it all is.

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Aubrey helped Ned clear out some Saturday Night Dead videos, so who knows what she’ll bring to watch.”

Indrid promises to think about it, then trudges home in the chilly air to a chillier apartment. Then it feels as if he’s in a late summer garden, and when he turns the demon is watching him.

“Got a job for you.”

“Alright.” Indrid tries not to flinch as the creature raises his hand. A snap like breaking branches produces nothing but a cluster of new groceries on his counter.

“You want me to bake for you?” Indrid picks up the box of pumpkin spice cake mix.

“Not quite. See, what’s gonna happen is you’re gonna make those, put ‘em all in this” a pumpkin shaped cake carrier appears “and go to your buddy’s house. You’re also gonna stop by your neighbor on the way, the nice guy with the funky metal goat statue in his yard.”

Indrid turns, can of cream cheese frosting in hand, “Apologies, dark one, but I’m not sure I see the point of this.”

The demon crosses his arms, “These last few days have been normal, right? How your days usually go?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah, see, you keep up like this, you’re just gonna shrivel up like a sapling in the sun.” The green coat rustles as he steps forward, “you’re lonely, slim. Don’t take demon powers to see that. Or that there are folks who don’t want you to feel that way. So” the demon tosses him an apron with a Death's Head Moth printed on the front, “get that oven on. And quit callin’ me ‘dark one’ and shit like that. You can just call me Duck; it’s a nickname.”

Indrid has a multitude of questions, but decides it’s better not to pester an entity that can turn his veins to vines.

For some reason, Duck hangs around while he bakes, creaking and gliding from one end of the studio to the other, not speaking but not making Indrid feel as if he has to fill the silence. When he notices that he’s running out of time before movie night, the demon returns and perchings on the kitchen table as vines emerge to help Indrid frost the cupcakes.

The demon dissipates as soon as he touches the front door. Indrid leaves a smaller container of cupcakes for his neighbor across the way, and the small burn he got from the oven is worth it a hundred times over when Barclay practically rips the door off its hinges letting him in.

It’s only when he returns home, tired and happy, that he notices the stained, white paint of the bathroom is now a light, homey orange. Like candlelight in a window.

It makes him smile.

—---------------------------------------------------------

“Duck, can I ask you something?”

“Sure” The green Jack’O Lantern by his chair replies, soft enough that only he can hear.

“Why have me do this?” He gestures to the library's fall fair, where he’s currently under a pop-up tent next to a table of face-painting supplies. The children's librarian had been very excited when he’d volunteered his services; apparently none of the other volunteers felt confident in their artistic talents.

“Are you not havin’ fun?”

“No. Nono, it’s actually rather nice. I was worried it would be overwhelming but it being outside has kept me from feeling trapped. And it’s fun to make the kids happy. I just don’t see how this benefits you.”

“It don’t. Not directly anyway. I was the god of harvest festivals once upon a time. Never cared much for the worship and such; I just liked watching people get all these little moments of joy outta things like pumpkins or turnips. Hell, even leaves. So I try’n do things to encourage that these days, too. Other demons might get all high on the fact they got power, but that’s never been my style. I’m a simple being.”

Indrid smirks, “That grazing board you made me spend three hours assembling yesterday begs to differ. I never should have let you know about Pinterest.”

“Was it or was it not the right thing to eat while watchin’ every single Halloween movie?”

“Oh it definitely was.” He raises one of his brushes, “but maybe I should paint you as a bunny or something, just to keep you humble.”

A vine sneaks through the back of the chair and playfully pinches him, “Careful, slim, hate to have to get handsy in front of all these people.”

Indrid stifles a laugh, “Alright, alright, fair enough.”

“....If you wanted to paint flames on me that’d be sick as hell.”

He dips his brush in the yellow paint, “Your wish is my command.”

—------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s never been accidentally summoned before. Usually he always has time to at least toss on the robe and make himself look like he wasn’t just in the garden or petting his cat when they called. But tonight, he’s just come in from checking on his fall beds, still in his t-shirt and tattered jeans, when he’s yanked upward and around into the human world.

He can by smell alone that he’s in Indrid’s place, and as he wobbles he spots the bags of Halloween candy the man bought the night before (“it’s still a few days from now, but I like to make sure I have the good stuff to give away”). What he doesn’t see is his human.

“‘Drid? You home?”

A ragged gasp comes from the mattress in the far corner of the room, and a face peeks out from what he assumed was just a pile of blankets.

“Duck? What” Indrid sniffs and wipes his eyes, “what are you doing here?”

“No fuckin’ clue.” He kneels by the bed, “but I got a hunch that it’s got to do with you hiding away like a bulb waiting for spring.”

Worryingly, Indrid whimpers at that and retreats most of the way back into the blanket. Duck rests a hand on his forehead, petting his silver hair. Without his gloves, it’s obvious how much of his form is plant matter masquerading as a man. But Indrid doesn’t flinch, and so Duck uses the ends of his fingers to gently scritch his scalp.

“What happened?”

“I, my, my father turned up at the Lodge where Barclay works. A-aubrey and some of my other friends were there too and he yelled at all of them for helping me. He even threatened Barclay to his face, he, I think he was trying to goad him into a fight so he could call the cops on him. Mama threw him out but I, when Barclay called me I could tell how upset and scared he was and it, it’s all my fault.” His face scrunches up and he burrows, without hesitation, against Duck, trying not to cry.

Duck knows he’s never known a human who he thought looked cute even when he was crying, but now is not the time to bring that up. Instead he wraps his arms around him and adds some vines for extra security.

“Hey, hey slim it’s okay. It ain’t your fault.”

“But it is. He wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t for me”

“For all we know he would have because he’s a huge fuckin asshole.”

“I just…I’m bad luck. I’m always causing my friends trouble, they’d be, be better off not knowing me.” He’s clinging to Duck’s shirt, and there’s now dirt on his cheek from where it’s been pressed to him.

“That ain’t true. Know I’m better having you in my life, and I bet they feel the same.”

A final, shuddery sob leaves the human. Then he says, flatly, “I would like to go to bed now.”

“Okay” Duck releases him, “you want me to tuck you in. These are great for that.” The vines wiggle but Indrid just blinks at them.

“No. Thank you. I will see you soon.”

Duck cups his cheek and wishes him goodnight. Then he stays in the shadows, imperceptible, until he’s certain his human is sound asleep.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid is drunk on pumpkin spice BuzzBalls and practically passed out on a tombstone.

Still not the worst birthday he’s had.

Barclay had suggested he come over once trick or treating was done and join everyone for a Halloween/birthday party. He declined. It’s safer for them if he celebrates out here alone.

He’s drunk enough that it feels like the ground is floating away. And like the world smells like the singed innards of a Jack’O Lantern.

Wait

“Duck?”

“Yep. Came by to bring you some special glow in the dark pumpkins and got kinda worried when I couldn’t find you.” The demon’s voice is blossom-soft as he lowers Indrid into his bed. He didn’t know Duck could teleport him as well.

“M’fine, I promise.”

“‘Drid, it’s not even 7 pm and you’re falling down.” There’s a wooden buzz, then Duck says, “wait, it’s your birthday?”

Indrid sits up, finds the demon looking at the phone he left on the table.

“Yes. It has never been much fun to celebrate.”

There’s a flurry of vines and leaves, a burst of life, then Indrid’s apartment is full of lit pumpkins and halloween lights, making the walls orange and purple. Duck holds out a small, brown box. Indrid opens it. Inside are gauges for his ears; they’re burnished and beautifully organic looking, as if Duck made them of petrified pumpkin shell.

“Figure I can do my part to change that.”

Indrid holds the box, looking up at Duck’s strange face. If someone like Duck cares about him, wants him to be happy, even when he’s seen him so pathetic…

“I…I want to go see my friends. I don’t want to celebrate alone.”

“I can help with that.” Duck kneels, rests the cool surface of his forehead against Indrid’s own. After a moment, he feels far more sober. And much braver.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way you could come with me? I like you so much and I want the others to get to know you too…”

“Gimme one sec. Uh, this might be kinda weird.” Duck sets his fingers into his eyes and mouth and pulls. There’s a hollow crunch and crack, and then the pumpkin splits and falls away. In its place is a round, human face with dark hair, a crooked smile, and beautiful, green eyes.

“Oh” Indrid gasps.

Duck smiles, “Don’t get too used to it, slim. Takes a lot of power to do this, so I can only pull it off now and then.” He looks down at his hands and the overalls he appeared in, “guess we’ll just tell ‘em my costume was a scarecrow or something. But, uh, how do we explain how we know each other?”

Indrid cautiously leans forward and kisses him. There’s a faint taste of smoke when the demon smiles into the kiss and slips his fingers into Indrid’s hair.

“Perhaps we could introduce you as my boyfriend?”

Vines hug him close as Duck kisses him again and whispers, “Yeah, slim, let’s do that.”

#indruck #promptober #taz amnesty #indrid cold/duck newton #monster boyfriend #demon boyfriend #human/monster romance #terato

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hobbitsetal · 2 years

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Hi! A while ago you made a post about realizing you're demisexual. I've been questioning my own experience of sexuality lately, and what you said about thinking you were just really good at following a Christian sexual ethic kinda hit home for me. I've questioned my experience of sexual attraction (or. lack of it) because I can't help but wonder if I've trained myself to ignore it growing up in the church. Like. How do I know what my genuine experience is?

So anyway this is getting long, but if you're willing to share about it I'd love to hear about your experience, and also your thoughts about labeling sexuality. I'm side b, but as I've been thinking about this for myself I've been questioning whether it's actually valuable to have a label for my experience.

Hi! Welcome to the realm of belated realizations XD The whole "oh wait this is actually a thing" hit for me about a month ago, so we're newbies to this together.

First, my experience: I've dated three guys, and married the third. The first was long distance, and somewhere around the seventh month mark (shortly before we broke up, lol), I found myself wondering what it might be like to kiss him. As a bit of background for you, I was raised to save my first kiss for my wedding day, so that thought was rather daring of me.

My second boyfriend, I liked holding hands, but didn't want to go further. This was partly because I wasn't really attracted to him as a person or really much as a friend. We broke up after three months, when we spent a weekend hanging out at the beach and I felt like I had to entertain him, rather than enjoying his company.

My third boyfriend, the one I married, was again long-distance...and I kissed him about four months after we started dating. Physical chastity was actually a bit of a struggle for us, and now that we're married, I thoroughly enjoy marital relations with him.

So why, then, do I call myself demisexual?

Because I've realized that without a solid relationship, without deep trust and comfortableness and friendship, the idea of sex with someone is uncomfortable to me. Repugnant, even. Those "celebrity lists" of the celebs you'd be allowed to sleep with, no questions asked? I'm baffled by the notion. The whole idea of cheating? Excuse you, you made a commitment. One night stands? y tho.

I spent thirty years of my life thinking I was simply Good At Christian Morals when it comes to sexuality. I'm not lol. I was simply not tempted by the same things others are tempted by.

Why don't I call myself asexual? Because I'm not indifferent to sex and I do actively desire it. I just don't desire it with anyone I'm not comfortable with and close to.

This is a hard one to differentiate, and the thought experiment of "if I were not Christian, would I feel differently?" is likewise hard. I grew up Christian. I live in America, in church circles. "Not Christian" is a bit like asking myself "if I were not American or a woman or white, how would I feel about x?"

I cannot fully comprehend how my upbringing and world views shape my biases.

However, I can talk to other people and recognize differences in how they think and relate to others from how I think and relate to others. I have never in my life looked at a stranger sexually. I've never wanted to kiss someone I didn't know well. All of my sexual desires stayed in the realm of "I want these sensations" apart from any other person until I was married.

This doesn't make me a better Christian. This just means my sexual walk looked different from others.

~~~

Now to the labels question. Frankly, the older I get, the more baffled I am by the controversy over labeling one's sexuality. We're humans. We label everything. God told Adam to name the animals as a means of ordering them. We buy a home, we label the rooms. We make political decisions, we label and sort those decisions. Heck, walk into a grocery store and we've labeled the aisles! We love labels!

Why would we not label our sexual experiences when we find ways to group them? I experience less social sexual desire than others, but I do experience desire. I'm not quite asexual, but I don't fit the experiences of my peers. Demisexual is a great way to explain myself.

But even as I ask why we hesitate to label, I can understand. The LGBTQA+ community has been demonized, oppressed, abused, and harmed by Christianity. Why would someone who calls themself Christian want to label themself "Sinner" and "Outcast"?

I can understand the hesitation. And that isn't good. That honest conversations are a source of fear and shame isn't good. I have no solution to it, but recognizing that the church's attitude is harmful is a good first step.

A good second step, I think, would be to recognize that labeling ourselves can help us understand both ourselves, each other, and how our communities work.

There is no sin in describing yourself as something. Honesty should not be a sin. Use whatever label makes sense to you, love, and may God grant you peace and self-knowledge.

#demisexual #Christianity #you can dm me if you wanna discuss this further!#also you: this is getting long #me: in this essay i will--

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hopefulstarfire · 1 year

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Give it up for day 3 of my valentines ship prompts!! Honestly I'm so excited that the writings been coming a lot easier with the prompts and maybe I might start challenging myself a bit more with these kinda things every month? We shall see.

Prompt 26: First Kiss

I had a few ideas for this one but this one flooded my brain and I knew I had to do it so have some futureshipping! Little bit of dual perspectives and we get a little look at post series and these two dorks getting together so it's a bit longer.

Previous Days Prompts

Day One || Two

Hope you enjoy!

If you asked Seto, their first kiss was at the party they met at when they were 12.

It had been a stifling gala his step-father had dragged him and Mokuba to, all flooded with people in his circle or ran in similar ones. Not many brought children, or even really had any at the time that weren't already fully grown, and those that did tended to stick by their parents side. Gozaburo tried his hardest to keep a tight leash on both the brothers, but even he got distracted by other patrons and allowed them to sneak away for a moments reprieve to go get refreshments.

It was a surprise to find a girl poke out from underneath the white linen covered table, reaching up to steal a cookie. It was more surprising when it clicked in his mind that those bright green eyes and signature pink ribbon tied in her long brown waves was the Kat Pegasus.

There was that initial moment of awe, knowing he was standing in front of Duel Monsters royalty. He opened his mouth to speak before Mokuba stepped up from behind him. "Why are you sitting under the buffet table?"

"Cause if brains were leather, most of the people here wouldn't have enough combined to saddle a junebug." She scoffed, her accent as smooth as butter. "Apparently, bein' elite and hoity toity takes up all the room for common decency and brain power, and I just don't feel like putting on airs." Her expression softened as she lifted up the table cloth. "You guys wanna come hang out with me? Looks like y'all could use a break from the party too."

Mokuba nodded excitedly, looking up at his brother. "Can we?"

Seto hesitated, glancing around. If Gozaburo caught them slacking off, it would mean nothing but trouble.

But...this was a big opportunity for him. In the long run, he wanted to turn the family company into a gaming one; they'd need connections to I2 for what he wanted to do. It made sense from a business standpoint to get close to the heiress and sister of the creator of the company.

And she was the best Duelist he'd ever seen. He was at least curious.

It didn't have anything at all to do with the fact he thought she was beautiful. No. Not at all.

"Alright, but we have to be careful." He told Mokuba quietly and his brothers eyes lit up before he climbed under the table to join her. Seto did one more sweep of the room before doing the same. "Thanks for inviting us."

Kat smiled, shaking her head. "It's nice to have the company!" She laughed, before gesturing to herself. "Memawd be upset if I forgot my manners. I'm--"

"You're Kat Pegasus!" Mokuba said, excitedly, sitting up a bit more. "You're one of the best Duelists in the world!"

She blinked, taken by surprise before a grin washed over her face and her eyes sparkled as she leaned in, putting her weight on her hands. "Y'all play Duel Monsters??"

Seto rubbed the back of his neck. "We want to. We just never have the time." It was an easy enough excuse.

"We saw your matches on TV! You're so cool!" His brother continued, before he gestured between him and his brother. "I'm Mokuba! And this is my big brother, Seto!"

She softened. "Well, it's certainly nice meeting you guys!" A lightbulb seemed to go off as she snapped her fingers. Sitting back, her hand dug around in the purse over her shoulder and she pulled out two decks and Seto let out a tiny gasp. "Would you guys wanna play? I know you said you don't really get a chance to, and I got an extra Deck if yall need--"

"Of course we would!" Seto said earnestly, leaning forward and his hands brushed hers. Both of them realized what they had done and their cheeks flushed pink.

She laughed sheepishly, clearing her throat. "G-great! Cool cool cool! Here, take this -- let's get this Duel on, yeah?"

They spent the majority of the night there, hiding underneath the table, away from prying eyes and responsibilities and a cruel stepfather and busybody older brother, chatting away and playing Duel Monsters. Mokuba didn't have as much success, but Seto, despite not using those cards before, still secured his wins in every match they played. It was impressive and invigorating --

It was what he realized he wanted to keep doing; to keep winning and become the very best.

Especially as a fire seemed to burn in his opponent, fueled by determination and passion.

They lost track of time. At some point, they heard shuffling around and a gruff, stern voice calling out. "Seto? Mokuba?"

Seto great stiff and his jaw clenched. Something told him Gozaburo wasn't gonna be happy they disappeared. His hand found Mokubas and he shot Kat an apologetic loom. "We have to go," he told her quietly, reaching out to hand her back the deck. "Thank you--"

She saw the trepidation and folded his fingers over the deck and gave him a wink. "Keep it. You won that deck fair and square." Her gaze looked towards where the linen hung, where the voice was coming from. "That your dad?"

"Step-father."

"Mm." She held out her hand, smiling. "I'll go with ya. Most people can't stay mad at this face."

Gozaburo wasn't most people.

He shouldn't take the help. No one else should get involved, it was a sign of weakness.

But she held out her hand and gave him the softest smile and he couldn't help but follow her out.

She paused when she saw who his stepfather was.

"Mr. Kaiba, good to see you again." She greeted, managing a tight lipped smile. "Been a long time, huh?"

He hadnt expedted the flash of recognition in the mans eyes; the sneer of disgust came with the territory. "...You're Evangelines youngest, aren't you?"

"Kat Mercer," she affirmed. It wasn't a name he really ever heard in connection with her; he'd later find out the reason why was to try and distance herself from the constant talk of her family tragedies. "I haven't seen you since Mères funeral."

He bit back a scoff. "We've been very busy, young lady. Running my company and all that," he looked to his sons. "I see you've been putting up with my boys."

"Oh we had a blast!" She told him. "They're great. You should be proud." She glanced at them with a grin. "I hope they can come to more parties; I need someone who can give me a challenge."

"They're too busy," he gritted out. It was usually out of character for him to be that terse with people that werent him or his brother. Seto would later learn why; Gozaburo was only fond of her damned mother, and her sister who resembled her. Kat had too much of her father in her. "Where's your handler?"

"Handler would imply I could manage to wrangle my sister in." A familiar voice drawled out.

Setos eyes went wide as the very creator of his favorite game strolled into view, boredly waving a champagne flute with a smirk.

"Gozaburo! My, has the time just flown by," Maximillion Pegasus drawled out, waving off handedly. "Thank you for finding Kitty Girl for me." He looked to her, brow cocking upwards. "I see you've made friends!"

"I found someone able to actually beat me." She laughed, nudging Seto gently.

"Well, a little rivalry always does your heart good," her brother teased before smiling at the boys. "Thank you for spending the evening with her. She tends to go stir crazy at these things."

Seto stared up at him before bowing. "It was our pleasure, Mr. Pegasus, sir!"

Gozaburo crossed his arms, eyeing the two before turning to his sons and Mokuba shrank under his gaze. "We have to be leaving now."

Kat turned to the boys, biting her lip at the man's tone before scoffing. "It's alright. Can't be standin' round here smelling the cow manure coming off you." She mumbled in disgust and she didn't even flinch at the glare that garnished her.

She was completely unafraid of the man.

Her attention stayed on them as she ruffled Mokubas hair; her free hand was subtly reaching for her purse. "I hope I see you guys soon! Maybe we can get you out for the next tournament!" She turned to Seto and her cheeks flushed pink before she leaned in, pressing her lips to his cheek, right by the corner of his mouth as her hand found his free one, slipping what felt like a business card into his palm. Her brothers number. A way out, if they ever needed it. His heart hammered away from both actions.

She pulled away, tucking stray locks of hair behind her ear as both of their faces warmed up. "Thanks for tonight. Bye!"

With that, she hurried off to join her brother as they left, Maximillion giving them a wave as he wrapped his arm around his sister, a teasing smirk growing on his face; one that resembled the Cheshire cat.

Seto watched as she left, and for a moment, everything else faded and all he saw was her.

...Oh, this could be a problem.

°°°

If you asked Kat, their actual first kiss wasn't until years later, when they were 18 and after life had finally started settling down.

Well, as settled down as it was ever going to get for their group. Or as much as it could for a single mother to a 4 month old.

It was hard to believe a year had past since they had been forced to say goodbye to Atem; even harder to believe it had been that long since Bakura was ripped away from her.

The firsts, the big moments, were hard without him there. Those first few weeks after his spirit was gone was...hell. She rarely left her bed, she cried and cried, and just barely found herself surviving. The realization that, despite all leaps in logic, she ended up pregnant, was even harder. She had figured it out to be magic; it explained the complications, on top of, well, how it happened when they'd never gone that far, and the night he gave her the Ring to see his true form, well...she knew what his magic could do. She knew what he had done in the past with leaving pieces of his soul behind as "insurance".

She highly doubted a baby was what he had in mind with it, but here they were.

Their son was really all she had left of him beyond memories, the knife she kept on her at all times and a simple ring she couldn’t bring herself to wear in her grief. He had made the difference in trying to help her get herself back together, so she could be the best version of herself for him.

The others had helped more than she could ever dream of or hope for.

But none more than, surprisingly, Seto.

He'd been the first person to know about the pregnancy, mainly because he'd figured it out at a gala he was hosting and then he quickly had to take her the hospital when she passed out from high blood pressure. That had been an Eventful evening, to say the least. But, since then, he'd been the one taking her to doctors appointments, helping set everything up, running and getting her the best onion rings money could buy because it had been her big craving and one of the only things she could hold down. Hell, he bought her the best crib on the market by the end of her first trimester, and argued with Maddox -- a man who had done this twice now with the twins -- as they tried to figure out how to put the crib together. Hell, he even let her break his hand when she delivered Jason and honored her request of not leaving his side when they whisked him off to NICU while the doctors took care of her.

Jason was the greatest gift Kat had ever gotten. She loved him more than anything. But, if he was her son and stars, then he was Setos little dragon. He'd helped out wherever he could, loved spending time with him, and even that night, came over because Jason wasn't feeling well and he was one of the only people that could calm the baby down enough to go to sleep when he was just not having it.

It gave her time to at least get some self care in that night. She got in a shower after she'd basically neglected it for a couple of days taking care of him, did her skincare routine in it's entirety and settled on some leggings and a cute tank top. She was pulling her hair into a messy bun, adjusting the soft pink headband she'd put on to keep her hair out of her face, as she headed back towards his nursery.

Her heart melted as she found Seto in the old family rocking chair her Uncle Wes had brought over, cradling Jason in one arm as the baby's eyes drooped, as one of the many, many books the family had stock piled for him rested in his free hand as he read it out loud to him. His own expression had softened, and there was even a small smile tugging at his lips; it was a look once only reserved for his siblings, but now extended out to her little boy.

He was more like theirs.

She leaned against the doorframe, fingers tugging gently at the locket around her neck as she watched them. Jason was hers and Bakuras, the best halves of both of them, and yet Seto had stepped in every step of the way for that little boy. He had been a father where Bakura, unfortunately, couldn't, having to watch them from wherever he was in the afterlife. She was thankful for that.

...And he had been a partner for her.

She'd had a crush on him before. Back when she first met him, and, while she had heavily denied it, for the better part of their time as rivals. She thought they were all gone and faded away by the time her and Bakura were together, and they had subsided for a time. But, then they started pouring back, and she tried to brush them off as hormones, still not ready to jump back into a relationship, and yet, even four months after giving birth, they only grew stronger.

Of course they had. She and him spent every day together practically, and video chatting on days they weren't. They practically flirted with every conversation. They even were able to hug -- something almost unheard of with him -- and he'd let her curl against him on the couch. Hell, when the anniversary of what they lost came around, he had arranged it for her aunt and uncle to babysit Jason for the whole day and gave her the space to let it out however she needed to and held her tight when she broke down and latched onto him and did so until she finally fell asleep. He cleaned up her whole apartment for her after he got her settled into bed, took Lola for a walk and had little presents waiting for her when she got up to help her.

He gave her a sense of peace and security she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before. He was the second person in her life to make her feel truly special, outside of her family.

"Because he's been in love with you since you guys were twelve," Iris had deadpanned to her the other night. It had made Kat spit out her drink and the blonde to roll her eyes, offering out paper towels before she continued. "But, you got with Bakura and lost him and he knows you're grieving and he doesn't know if you want him or not or are even at that point yet."

She...she did love him. From the way he could zero in on a task and how incredibly smart he was, to the snark and the way he could make anybody feel 8 times smaller when they truly deserved it; how he tried so hard to deny magic existed, even though he was the one completely obsessed with dragons. She loved his strength that came from years of trauma and how he fought so hard to make a better life for him and his family, and even make a better world. She loved him even when he was being a toad to others, and she especially loved how soft and gentle he was with specific people in his life.

She just...wasn't sure what to do. Her heart had been healing and there was still the guilt that came with the idea of moving on.

"You're not me," Max told her, not long ago. "You shouldn't behave like me. Don't close off the possibility of finding love again, Kitty Girl. Sure, you may not find it. Perhaps you do only get that one great love. But, you could also find Mr. Or Mrs. Right standing in front of you one day and you can't close your heart off just because you're afraid to lose that again or because you feel guilty. Give yourself that peace of mind and freedom."

"...The end." Seto whispered, and she pulled herself away from her thoughts. Jason was now finally asleep, curling against the young man holding him. He waited for a moment, making sure he lulled deeper into his dreams before Seto rose to his feet, and moved to lay him down in his crib. She watched as his long, elegant fingers brushed back Jason's white tuft of hair. "Good night, little dragon."

She smiled as he walked towards her and they closed the door as quietly as they could behind them, stepping further down the hallway until they reached the living room. Her arms folded across her chest as she looked up at him. "Thank you for coming and helping," she said. "He's been colicky the last couple days and I just--"

"You've looked after Mokuba, River and Flora countless times now," Seto told her. "It's the least I can do."

He straightened his jacket -- the deep purple one with accentuated shoulders, the one she loved the most on him -- and glanced to the door. "I should probably get going. It's late."

Her hand fumbled for his, and he looked at her curiously. "Or. You could stay the night. It's really late, after all. I can get the couch made up for you."

There came that smirk, that damned smirk that always got to her. "You're not willing to offer up your bed instead?"

Logically speaking, Kat knew the teasing was meant as her offering up for him to take the bed while she took the couch. But, she could have fun with it, shooting back a smirk of her own. "You know, back home, it's considered polite for a man to buy a lady dinner before he asks to hop into bed with her."

They leaned into each other almost instinctually, and his smirk grew. "Let's see now, how many times have I gone out of my way to buy you your onion rings over the course of nine months --?"

"You know what I mean!" Kat laughed, hand pressing against his chest to playfully shove him away. But, instead, it lingered there, right above his heart; she swore she had to be crazy, because it felt like it had started beating faster under her palm. She cleared her throat, her hand smoothing out the fabric. "S-still. I can set up a place for you, you shouldn't be out driving this late and--"

His hand wrapped around her wrist when she went to pull her hand away and she sucked in a deep breath as blue eyes bore into her green ones.

"Seto?"

His grip softened slightly, thumb brushing against her skin. He weighed over his words as he studied her.

"...I can take you out to dinner," he told her, his voice firm. "Wherever you want, whenever you want. I'd buy the whole damned restaurant if that's what you asked. If there's a chance--"

They paused and she raised her free hand up to his cheek and he stilled, hesitating as he processed what she was doing, before finally leaning into her touch.

"...What are we?" He finally asked. "It's driving me insane. You -- Jason -- I -- Us --" he clenched his jaw, before closing his eyes. "I need to know."

Kat bit her lip. "I think we've been a little more than rival or friends for a while now. We just...didn't know what to do about it given...well, the shitshow that's been my life."

"According to everyone, it's partially on me too," he admitted. "I'm...me. I know I'm not easy--"

"Seto Kaiba, in what world have I ever wanted easy?"

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, both unsure of what to say. Now it was just...out there in the open and her heart wasn't sure it could take it if this all fell apart here.

Her other hand moved up to his other cheek, thumbs brushing against the bone. "I...it's not gonna be easy for either of us," she admitted. "We've both been dealing with our own challenges. But we've made it this far. And it's driving me crazy just as much, and I..." She let out a shaky breath. "I didn't think I'd be ready to move on...ever. But, I know I don't want to close my heart off anymore and I know how I feel about you, and probably have for a while. I...I finally feel like I can let myself try again. I feel like i can let myself love again, and you have been...hell, Seto, we've essentially been doing the parenting thing together anyhow, and we act like a couple and -- and, right now, I..."

He finally opened his eyes, and there was a flash of anxiety, of vulnerability she wasn't used to. She just hoped what she asked didn't further it.

"Right now I just really wanna fucking kiss you. If you're okay wi--"

She didn't get to finish the sentence. His hands had tugged her in by her waist as his lips crashed against hers. A surprised noise echoed from her throat before she ultimately melted into the kiss. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as one of his hands laid flat against her lower back and the other carded through her hair.

It was like fireworks shot through both of them.

When they finally pulled apart, she stared up at him and smiled. "Well, now you're definitely stayin'."

"Like you had the option of getting rid of me."

She rolled her eyes playfully as her hands found the front of that beautiful jacket. "Uh-huh. Just get back here." With that, she yanked him back into another, more passionate kiss.

#yugioh #ygo #yugioh ocs #ygo ocs #seto kaiba #kat mercer #kenzs valentines prompts #my writing #you painted colors in my heart i could never replace #futureshipping

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nataliedanovelist · 2 years

Text

GF - Pair of Dossers

My OC, Hephzibah, and @jackyjackdraws ‘s OC, Kevin, have a fun night out. Love you, dude! Thanks for being an amazing friend!

~~~~~~~~~~

Kevin didn’t know everybody in Gravity Falls, but he knew a good chunk of people. You don’t live in the same town for twenty years and not recognize faces, meet people, even make some friends.

Then again, between raising a pair of twins, running a business, and working on a trans-dimensional portal to try to get a brother-in-law back, he didn’t have loads of extra time to socialize outside his normal bubble then he would like to.

But very recently he and his husband hired a very young handyman, whom Amanda trained before leaving for college, and Kevin knew of his grandmother. Teo Ramierez had five children in total, and her youngest daughter, Maria, gave her a grandson. Soon after the little guy’s birth, Maria passed away and the bad use of good white skin hadn’t seen Jesus since he was born and made no attempts to change that. So now, after so many years of shouting, pushing and shoving, and a house that was basically Kevin’s worst nightmare, the tiny house was quiet and filled with love as Teo could put the past behind her and focus on raising her grandson.

Kevin couldn’t help but notice, though, that Teo had a friend.

Kevin had seen her around town before, even in Gravity Falls Gossiper (if only for petty reasons, as Toby had a bone to pick with the woman for some unknown reason), but her family had been in town for generations and she seemed like an overall nice lady. The old Irishman got to finally meet her one day as he left the grocery store.

He had a single bag of items, blinking into the sunlight, and couldn’t help but notice a woman his age knelt besides a motorcycle, muttering and grumbling in frustrations, fiddling with the engine, a small toolbox opened at her feet.

The woman stood up straight and popped her back, her ponytail of dreadlocks flicked to her back to let some air onto her neck. She wore a white blouse, a black leather jacket, matching boots, and rough-up blue jeans. With red lips and golden bracelets and earrings decorating her beautiful dark skin, she turned the key in the ignition, listening to the engine struggling to stay on, then knelt beside the bike again.

Kevin had an idea or two of what her problem was, having spent a good few years as a mechanic, so deciding to be a Good Samaritan, he walked up to the woman and the bike and cleared his throat, hoping not to startle her. “Excuse me, lass, need a hand, or you wanna keep on effin’ and blindin’?”

“Nah, I think I got it.” The woman said casually. “I just need… actually, I could use a second pair of hands. Can ya hold this here while I tighten this?”

“Sure.” Kevin placed his bag by the bike and held the part in place like the woman asked. She was now able to tighten it much easier, and when they released and she started the bike, it roared and purred like a lion.

“Sweet! Thanks.” The woman held out a hand to shake. “I’m Hephzie.”

“Kevin.” He replied, smiling and shaking her hand, noticing the interesting circles and various symbols tattooed on the back of her hands.

“Yeah, Mr. Mystery, right?” Hephzie clarified. “Congrats on the name change. Though I kinda prefer Murder Hut.”

Kevin snorted and rolled his eyes, something his husband said when Kevin was insisting on the name change to try to appeal to younger children and their overprotective parents. “Heh, thanks.”

“Well hey, ya wanna grab a beer or somethin’ some time?” Hephzie offered, zipping up her black leather jacket. “Do somethin’ tomorrow night?”

Kevin blinked, a bit surprised, and to be perfectly honest his first instinct was to tell her no and remind her that he was happily married. But then he reminded himself that she knew that already, and genuinely was asking if he wanted to hang out with a friend, which he did. And so trusting his husband would be cool about it, Kevin nodded and said, “Yeah sure, I could go for a pint of the black stuff.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at six.” Hephzie clicked on her helmet, gave a polite little nod, then rode away, leaving Kevin to smile and shrug at himself, pulling the keys out of his pocket for the red Diablo.

“Grand.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, fella, I’ve made plans tomorrow night.”

“Okay.”

“One of Soos’ Abuelita’s friends invited me out for a drink.”

“Okay.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow, eyeing the conman at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of afternoon coffee while reading a newspaper. He expected Stan to be okay with it, but this was a little too okay. Was it? “And… that’s okay with you?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Should it not be okay with me?”

“No, that’s not what I…”

“Look, babe, what do you want, a kiss on the cheek?” Stan chuckled. “You made a friend, good for you. Go out and have fun! And when you’re all drunk and horny and a mess, I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Kevin snorted, smiling at the man who had stolen his heart. Of course he would be okay with it. “I love you. And yes, I do want a kiss on the cheek.”

Stan grinned like he always did when his husband told him he loved him. “Love you, too. Well if you want that kiss you better walk over here, cuz I’m too old to be getting up.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. A man grows a full head of gray hair and suddenly the “too old” card is much more playable. Still, Kevin had no problem walking over for that kiss on the cheek, taken by surprise when Stan wrapped his beefy arms around him and made the Irishman sit on his lap for more kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~

HONK!

“Get in, loser, we’re going shopping!” Hephzie called over the motorcycle’s engine with a mocking voice.

Stan smiled at the remark he heard from the living room. Kevin slipped on his blazer, kissed Stan goodbye, and hurried out through the door. He shook Hephzie’s hand in greeting, then accepted the offered helmet.

Kevin clipped the protective headwear on and asked, “So what’re we gonna do?”

“The question is ‘what aren’t we gonna do’, Ponytail.” Hephzie quipped, made the engine roar, and sped away from the Shack and into town, Kevin’s booming laughter joining in the chorus.

Their first stop was the arcade, where Hephzie kicked Kevin’s ass to his dismay, and a few rematches erupted before the next stop.

They went to a gas station, bought some snacks, then Hephzie used the pay phone, Kevin watching as he munched on a doughnut.

“Gravity Falls Gossiper, this is Toby Determined.”

Hephzie cleared her throat, and in a voice exactly like that female news reporter, she said, “Hello, this is Sandra Himenez. I’ve wanted to tell you, Toby, that you’ve really impressed me with your reporting skills.”

“SANDRA HIMENEZ?! R-really?! Wow! I’ve thought your work was impressive for years!”

Kevin snorted into his hand. Hephzie shushed him quietly, then resumed. “Oh, Toby, you keep my pen full of ink!”

Laughing over his horrible poetry and declaration of love, Kevin had to hang up the phone, their laughter ruining the prank call, then he decided to prank call the local pub.

“Hi, I’m looking for a guy. Last name, Keebum. First name, Lee.”

“Uh, hang on a sec. Hey, does anyone have a Lee Keebum? C’mon, do I got a Lee Keebum?”

Hephzie snorted and couldn’t contain her laughter over the childish joke. Her laughter was contagious, making Kevin laugh as he hung up the phone and they ran to the motorcycle.

Hephzie pulled them up to the Northwest Manor, to which Kevin raised an eyebrow. “What’re we doing here, Chancer?”

Hephzie reached into the hidden compartment under the seat and pulled out a grocery bag full of water balloons. “Wanna help me trash their stupid limo?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” Kevin said, hurrying to the wall and letting her climb his shoulders.

Hephzie pulled Kevin up, and with the limo in view, they threw paint-filled water balloons at the limo, until a stuffy young man in a bathrobe exited the manor.

“What is going on here?!”

Kevin threw a little too aggressively, and bright blue paint exploded on Preston’s head.

“DUDE!” Hephzie yelled, amazed.

Kevin’s face grew pale.

“You riff-raff!” Preston squealed like a young girl.

Hephzie and Kevin ducked off the wall as sirens started going on, racing away on the motorcycle.

“LEG IT, DOSSER!”

“Working on it!”

A few miles away, once it was obvious they were in the clear, they cackled into the night air. Kevin hadn’t been this reckless since his younger years. Back before Stan and he had promised to grow old together. Before kids, before the Shack, before Gravity Falls. It was nice to pretend to be young and stupid for a night.

Kevin made Hephzie pull up to a liquor store, and when he emerged with a pack of beers, she grinned and drove them to the cliff side, giving them a perfect view of Gravity Falls while they sat on the grass and drank, among small talk.

“Thanks again for the night out, lass.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Can… Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Kevin stirred the content of his can, rotating his wrist, his arm resting on a blended knee. “Why did you invite me to hang out with you?”

Hephzie sipped her drink and shrugged. “I dunno. Ya just seemed like a nice guy n’ I wanted to hang out with ya n’ ya looked like ya could use a good time, s’all.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow and joked, “I looked like I could use a good time? What, I come across as a damsel in distress?”

“Piss off.” Hephzie chuckled. “Ya know, I do this kinda shit with Teo every so often. It’s fun, just enjoying the town.”

“I find it kinda funny we’ve never met before.” Kevin thought out-loud.

“I’m outta town a lot.”

“I think…” Kevin stopped, remembering a time he was at the park with Andrew and Amanda, and he could have sworn Hephzie was there with a boy in a hoodie. “I think our kids are the same age. Do you have a kid?”

Hephzie smiled. “I do. Got two boys. Ya n’ Stan got twins right? Boy n’ girl?”

“Yup!” Kevin said proudly. “Amanda and Lucas. Wanna see a picture?”

Hephzie nodded enthusiastically, and Kevin pulled out his wallet and showed her a small photo from when they first opened the Murder Hut, a pair of young men in suits, each holding a kindergartener in their arms.

“Aw!” The woman cooed. “They’re beautiful! Here, guess it’s only fair I show ya mine.” Hephzie pulled out her wallet, too, and inside Kevin saw a younger version of Hephzie, sitting with a boy on each knee. One of them was blond, and probably the boy Kevin saw at the park. But the other one…

“Wait… Isn’t that Tate McGucket?” Kevin asked, pointing at the somewhat popular boy. Nearly everyone in town knew who Tate was, the poor boy who’s father lost his mind and now lived at the dump. But Kevin also knew him from the new bait shop he opened on the lake just a few months ago; given how often Kevin and Stan fish, they had already done a fair amount of business with the young man.

Hephzie chuckled. “Yup. I mean, he’s not mine mine, but he’s been livin’ with me since he was six, n’ he n’ my son, Selim, consider each other brothers, so…”

“That’s more than good enough for me.” Kevin said with a smile, pocketing his wallet; it was nice to know that, even if Tate lost a family, he had another one. “Amanda and Andrew went to college.” Kevin shared.

“Ah. Empty nest syndrome?”

Kevin shrugged. “A little. What about you? Have the boys moved out?”

“Ya could say that.” Hephzie said with a shrug, then finished her can.

Kevin wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but seeing how she didn’t elaborate, he decided to drop it. As Hephzie opened another can, Kevin asked, “Say, you won’t be opposed to coming to the Shack in a few days and playing cards, would you? I think you and Stan would really hit it off.”

Hephzie smiled and said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m leavin’ town tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

“Oh, okay. Where off to?”

“Canada.”

“Ew.” Kevin teased. “Why?”

Hephzie laughed and said, “I’m doing a favor for my brother up north. Selim’s already been helpin’ him out, but I figured lend a hand, too.”

“Gotcha.” Kevin said, holding up a can to her. “Well, be sure to let me know when you’re in town again, Chancer.”

“For sure, Ponytail.” And they toasted with a dull clink of metal.

#gravity falls #gf #fanfiction #hephzibah cece #jackyjackdraws #stan pines #gift #I’ve kinda missed writing about my baby #I’ve got a big thing planned for her #but I’m on the fence if i want to make it fanfiction #or change a few things and have it be something entirely new #who knows #love you Jack!#i hope you like it!!!#Kevin Griffith

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lilwitchygem · 2 years

Text

Chapter two

She woke up early and got to work, slipping into clothing that she didn’t care about getting dirty. She had found a pack of seeds Lewis had given to her as a gift and begun clearing out a section of the yard for them. It hard hard work breaking rocks, cutting down trees, clearing the weeds and grass. Soon she had a cute little plot of land tilled and planted. She enjoyed watering the little seeds and hoping they would sprout soon. She was glad it was the first day of spring so that she had the entire season to get a decent amount of planting and clearing done.

“I might as well head into town, Lewis and Robin said people were excited to meet me…”

Ellie muttered, placing her hands into her pockets. She felt her hands trembling but she did not want to disappoint anyone. Never again. Walking past the gate, she started towards town. Her anxiety was spiking, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her from meeting people. It was a beautiful walk, the wind was a calming as it caused the leaves on the trees to rustle gently and the sun wasn’t too hot. It was peaceful. Butterflies and birds all flew around, it was like out of a magical fairy tale.

When she reached town she was surprised with how cozy it looked, small town was an understatement. There were people walking around, calling greetings to each other as they passed. No one seemed to be in a massive rush, rather they all seem content and happy. Taking a deep breath in Ellie headed towards the closest person she saw.

““I don't know you. Why are you talking to me?”

Her heart stuttered and she tried to breathe,

“Um, I’m Ellie Luna, the new farmer. Its nice to meet you.”

“Shane. Go away.”

He then stormed off, leaving her standing there feeling more exhausted than yesterday. Running a hand through her hair she took in a deep breath, trying to figure out if it was worth getting snapped at again.

“Hey you! New farmer!”

A group of people can running over to her, each seemed much friendlier than the man she just introduced herself to. They formed a half circle around her and started saying all at once,

“Hey, I’m Sam. Good to meet you.”

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool. Im Sebastian. Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

“Hi I’m Abigail...I heard someone new was moving onto that old farm. It's kind of a shame, really. I always enjoyed exploring those overgrown fields by myself.”

“Ooh!... I can read it on your face. You're going to love it here in Pelican Town. If you're ever looking for something to do in the evening, stop by the saloon. That's where I work! I’m Emily!!”

Ellies head swam as she tried to comprehend what was said to her. After a moment she whispered,

“Hi, I’m Ellie Luna, I’m the new farmer…yeah, free house. You can still walk in the woods on my property, I do not drink…um hi.”

She hoped she commented on everyone's blurb, and was a moment of relief when the people surrounding her burst into laughter. They chatted for a few moments, they all tried to give descriptions of the rest of the towns people and that made her feel worlds more confident. Only when they started getting a bit too loud did she excuse herself to go seek out other people to speak to. She found that most of the town was very pleasant, very welcoming. She had finally made a loop through the entire town when she tried to walk into the doctors office, but noticed it had been closed for two hours already.

“Damn it. I thought I would have been able to see everyone today. It would have been kinda cool.” She muttered, running a hand through her hair, her anxiety spiking at the idea of being alone. She didn’t want to be alone, she couldn’t. Not just yet. If her mind was kept busy she could be able to forget about him. Forget about the hell she went through. She wouldn’t disappoint Lewis or Robin.

“Hey Ellie come get a drink with us!” It was Abigail, she was hanging out by the entrance. Ellie didn’t drink, she hadn’t since her grandfather died. Maybe one or two drinks would be okay. Besides, she didn’t need to drive home. It was a short walk and it would be kinda nice to not be alone with her thoughts. So she went into the Stardrop Saloon. Inside was a decent amount of people from the town. Heading over to the bar to see what was available, she almost tripped over a runaway pool ball. But someone steadied her and helped her regain her balance.

“Woah there are you alright?”

“Yes! Thank you so much! I swear I can be such a clutz, I haven’t even had anything to drink yet and I’m falling over.”

She looked up at the person who saved her. He was tall, very tall and was nicely dressed in a green jacket, white shirt and golden tie. He even had a mustache that seemed well maintained. She quickly pulled away and ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m Ellie Luna, I am the new farmer for Pelican Town. It’s nice to meet you.”

She awkwardly held out her hand, face starting to burn a bit, the man took it with a smile and said,

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harvey, the local doctor. I perform regular check-ups and medical procedures for all the residents of Pelican Town. It's rewarding work. I hope you'll find your own work equally rewarding, in time.”

He then let her go and turned to the bar, leaving her standing there with her face on fire and the urge to go home. What if her boyfriend caught her taking to all these people…wait. She turned and tried to shake off that thought. She didn’t have a boyfriend anymore, she wasn’t under his control anymore. But, habits die hard. Heading over to the group she explained that she was tired for the day and that she needed to go home. They all seemed understanding and sent her off with a chorus of ‘goodnights’.

The walk home was nice at first, but the pressure from avoiding the thoughts about Zuzu city and her ex were crushing. She barely made it home before collapsing with inner pain. She had done so well not to give into that pain, but she pushed too hard. She didn’t even bother to change before crawling over to the couch, curling into a ball as she sobbed herself to sleep again.

[0] [1]

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hotforharrysheart · 2 years

Text

Love on Tour

It’s been a week since the Nashville show. You kept waiting for Gem to say something to you about your feelings for Harry, but she hasn’t. You think maybe she wasn’t as observant as you thought. It’s a casual night off from touring so everyone is hanging out in a restaurant party room. There’s food and music and plenty of booze. You’re in a big group talking and then slowly the group breaks up and it’s just you and Harry. You’re talking and laughing and having a good time. He says something that you find funny and your hand lands on his arm to steady yourself. All of a sudden, something changes. You snatch your hand away and your face changes. Your smile disappears. It’s almost as if you just noticed it was just the two of you. His brows furrow. “Y’ok?”

You nod. “Would you excuse me?”

He nods. “Sure.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him feeling like a dumbass once again. Because this always happens. If he can get you alone, you have the best time and he thinks you might just like him but then something happens and you close up, like shutters on a house before it storms. Maybe you just don’t want to lead him on, he thinks as he goes to the table for a refill.

He wanders over to find his sister and make sure she’s having a good time.

“Hey Gem. How ya doing?”

“I’m good, Harry.”

“Ya seem like you all” - he jerks his head in your direction - “are having a good time on tour.”

Gem nods and smiles. “Being on tour with you is always entertaining. You know that.”

He smiles and nods. “‘M jus’ curious…she date a lot?”

She shrugs. “Yanno, I don't know why, but she's not really dated much at all in the time I've known her.”

He smiles into his drink.

“She's always working hard and it doesn't really go past the first few dates before she just kinda lets 'em down easy.”

“I see.”

“Why? H, don't fuck around with her if you're not serious. She's picky and doesn't just date for the fuck of it, if you know what I mean.”

He sighs and meets her eyes. “Don' worry about it Gem. She's not interested in me anyways.”

“Harry Edward Styles, you are really serious, aren't you?"

He puffs out a breath. Drink to his lips, “yeah, maybe. I like her. Like a lot but...”

“But what?"

He shrugs. “But nothin! She's not interested.” He says, his eyes meeting hers.

She puts down her wine glass, crosses her arms and moves to stand in front of him. "Harry, truthfully you (she circles a open hand around in his face) are a lot to take...you know that, but she might just have what it takes to deal. Why do you think she's not interested in you? Saw you talking in the corner earlier. She seemed pretty interested then."

He shrugs. “Jus’ forget I said anything.”

Gemma purses her lips and huffs out a breath. “I wasn't gonna say anything. I swore to myself I wouldn't as a matter of fact.”

“Wha? Come on Gem...spill it.”

She sighs. “She likes you, H. She’s euphoric watching you. She might not always show it to you, but when you're not looking…you can tell she’s into you. I guess I've known for a long time."

Grinning like a fool, he just stands there swirling the ice in his drink. “Ya think she'd stay and have a drink with me tonight?"

“You are so thick sometimes, Harry. Yeah, I think you should ask her and see for yourself." She turns to talk a little louder, "Unless you want me to see if she'd be interested!”

“Shut the fuck up, Gemma, fuck, I'll do this myself.”

Gemma smirks. "Go get her H, and whatever you do, don't hurt her.”

He does a circle around the room and then he sees you. He walks up and grabs your elbow, pulling you away from the group. He can tell your guard is up, but he presses on. “Hey, you wanna go outside and get some fresh air?”

You hesitate but recover quickly. “Sure, Harry, do you mind if I top off my glass first?"

“Lemme do it for ya, what are you having, Rose?"

Looking straight into his eyes, you smile and say "Good guess…you're paying attention.”

He smiles his most winning smile. “I always do, love."

He walks away, and your eyes search the room looking for Gemma. Once you find her, she is smiling a similar sibling winning smile and waving her fingers in a "toodle loo" fashion. Your eyes get big as saucers and you feel your tummy drop.

She mouths, “good luck.”

Shaking your head you look at your feet and think to yourself, what have I gotten myself into? Just then, you feel his hand on your elbow.

“There's a beautiful swing just out in the garden, join me?”

You let a breath out. "Ok, let's go."

The next thing you know it seems like the night sky is getting bluer and bluer. You spend the next couple of hours talking with Harry about any and everything and nothing at the same time.

“I can't believe we've been out here so long, you must be exhausted."

He scooches a little closer to you on the swing.

“And I bet you’re sick of my true crime talk...." you say, rolling your eyes. “You probably need to go get some rest.”

He laughs his breathy little laugh. “I love listening to ya talk and I'm no’ tired. I..like spending time with ya if I'm honest." He brushes your hair off your cheek and over your shoulder.

“Harry, can I just say something."

“Sure, love, ya can say anything.”

You raise your fingers to your mouth and begin to nibble your nails. "I know you know and I just feel like I kinda want the earth to open up and swallow me at the moment."

“Wha’ do I know?" He says into your ear, breath hot on your neck.

You gulp and close your eyes. “I know Gem told you…”

“Yeah, she told me that ya might be interested in me, but I really just wanna hear it from you. I know we're too old for playing games, so I'm just gonna lay it out there, ‘m interested in ya…for more than just your great big beautiful brain."

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I am interested in you…for more...but I just don't see how…”

“Wait…ya are?"

Looking down at your lap, you nod, then put your hands over your face and say, “this is ridiculous.”

He moves so he's right next to you. The heat from his thigh searing your leg and he pulls your hands down from your face and into into his. “This is not ridiculous and 'm gonna kiss you now, tha alright?"

“You are?"

He laughs

“Yeah. If you'll let me."

You smile and nod.

His hands move to your cheeks and he presses his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss. His lips are soft and warm.

You let out a little squeak in your throat and raise your hands to the sides of his neck.

He pulls away for just a second, long enough to check your expression. He turns his head and comes back to you slowly, kissing each corner of your mouth. Forehead to forehead he asks, "Was that ok?"

You close your eyes. “So ok...Wanted to kiss you for a long time.” Smiling you simply say, "Again, please?"

Smirking he says, “so polite.”

You smack his arm.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna kiss you again and then again and again if you'll let me.”

“I might not ever let you stop kissing me.”

“C'mere..." He pulls you to his lap and placing one hand on your cheek he slants his mouth on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and the dance begins. He tastes of Vodka Tonic and the mint from the gum he's forever chewing. He tastes like all of your fantasies come true. Like the start of something amazing. He groans at the same time you do and deepens the kiss, his hands moving into your hair.

The kiss ends with a smack only long enough to take a breath and go back in for each other.

Your hands are shaking but they move from his shoulders into his hair because you've always wanted to get your fingers into his curls. It's intoxicating being this close to him. The way he smells, and sounds, the way he kisses you….it all has you dizzy.

You shiver and he groans. "Ya cold?"

“No, its just I've wondered how this would feel. How your hands would feel……these curls…these lips,” your fingers running over his lips.

He's panting against your fingers. “Thought about it too ya know! How your body would feel next to mine. Thought about it a lot, actually."

At that, you lean in for the kiss this time. You give his curls a good tug and he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away from your lips only to kiss down to your ear. “Taste so good, baby."

At the endearment you groan and lean your head to the side to give him more access.

The party’s breaking up and everyone is heading out. Gemma goes to the back door and pulls the curtain back just a smidge so she can see out. She smiles as she sees the two of you kissing.

“Gem, have you seen Harry?” Mitch asks.

She moves the curtain back quickly. “He’s busy right now. He can get his own ride. Let’s go.”

#love on tour #harry smut #harry styles smut #original content #harry styles fanfiction #friends to lovers

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volleychumps · 4 years

Note

can u make another iwaizumi angst with happy ending pls? where iwaizumi has been going through some shit and s/o tries to take care of him but being the clusmy ass, s/o ends up pissing him off big time and it turn to a huge fight? make me cryyyyyy and then mend me with a fluffy ending! thanks!

Phattest of the bets- here we go Hajime>:)

Outburst. (Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader)

Warning(s): angst to fluff kinda fic, slight cursing, oop if you’re heart hurted I hope I mended it :), timeskip! Iwaizumi, slight blood due to light injury

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

“Y/N.”

“Hey.”

You let out a breathy laugh when Iwaizumi stumbles through the front door, bag brimmed with important papers hitting the floor with a slight thud before he collapses on top of you, arms wrapping around your waist tightly. More laughs bubble out of your throat as you struggle to support him, ignoring the heavy weight of the boy before lifting a hand to stroke his hair lightly.

“Tough day at the university?”

“You have no idea.” The spiker huffs against the juncture between your shoulder and neck, and you hum, pushing him slightly to examine Iwaizumi’s sharp features, smile growing when he leans into your touch.

“Can we just go straight to bed?”

“You have to eat first.” You reply softly, helping him shrug his jacket off before kissing him on the cheek, frowning when you see just how dark the circles under his eyes were. “Are you sleeping okay?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Iwaizumi’s reply is short as he brushes past you, voice strained as your frown deepens with worry. “Let’s just get dinner over with so I can get the hell to sleep.”

You blink at his tone, contrasting from before you told him he couldn’t have what he wanted. Almost like a child, in this situation.

“I can bring it to you-?”

“Y/N. I said let’s get it over with.”

Your eyes widen a fraction, retort almost slipping off your tongue like venom before you bite it. Like your loving boyfriend, you had a slight temper- but today you decided to make an exception, seeing how exhausted he was after working the overtime shift. Pressing your lips together, you nod before entering the kitchen with him on your tail.

“I made agedashi tofu!” You try to lighten your voice, glancing behind you to see his reaction to his favorite food, hoping to see that same grateful smile pass his face-

but it doesn’t.

“Thanks.” Iwaizumi’s tone is dismissive as he continues to scroll on his phone through emails for school, and you wilt slightly-wishing he could see the flash of hurt that passed your face.

Wordlessly, you prepare the dish on a plate before walking over to him and begin to set it in front of him, catching a glimpse of his phone screen in the process.

“Is that for the sports science exam coming up-?”

“Jesus, fuck-”

Iwaizumi flinches away from you, annoyance filling his features at the fact that you were looking at his phone screen,

not noticing that he wasn’t the only one startled in the process.

Your jaw slackens when Iwaizumi’s broad shoulder collides with your arm holding the platter, the food falling onto his thigh as you lift a hand to your mouth-

the dish was still piping hot.

Your breath gets caugh in your throat as you rush around to soak a towel, filling a glass with ice as soon as it happens to aid the redness growing on Iwa’s thigh- your boyfriend falling scarily quiet.

Iwaizumi stares at the burning food on his thigh, something in him finally snapping.

“Here-!”

“Why the fuck can’t you do anything right?”

Huh?

Your grip loosens on both items as you freeze with a doe-eyed expression on your features. Iwa’s voice was scarily soft as he chuckled humorlessly, dark eyes looking at you with a piercing look that read danger.

And then his voice rises, the coil inside of him lit.

“Are you usually this goddamn clumsy?! Jesus fucking christ, Y/N! Do I need to give you a visual example of how to place a shitty plate on the table?! Because here-!” You flinch when Iwaizumi grabs the glass from your hand, slamming it on the table afterwards as the glass breaks into shards, a gasp slipping your throat.

“Did you get it through that pretty, empty little head of yours?!”

Iwa softly gasps when a choked sob leaves your throat, the burning on his thigh and his now-bloodied hand suddenly unnoticeable as he realizes how far he had escalated a small situation. You swallow back the lump in your throat, slowly falling to your knees to try and pick up some of the shards.

“Ow-!”

“Y/N don’t-” Iwa reaches out for the fingers you had pricked, tone suddenly soft.

“Don’t touch me!” You hiss, eyes blurring with unshed heat as you retract your hand back in a flinching motion, Iwa’s eyes widening a fraction as you slowly raise to your feet, blood trickling down your fingers as you let the venom slip.

“I go to school too. I get home half an hour earlier than you do, and I’m tired as hell- but I still went out of my way to make you your favorite food because I know you had exams today!”

Iwaizumi flinches as your tone raises, wanting you to yell some more because he deserved it-

but you don’t.

“I do it because I love you, you dickhead.” Your voice cracks, Iwa’s chest brimming with guilt as he looks at all the prepared food behind you, ready to pack his lunches for the next week. “But you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to pretend like you’re the only one who’s tired and has shitty days and use it as an excuse to treat me like that. Get over yourself because I’m pretty damn tired too, and I don’t deserve this shit.”

The tears are streaming freely now, Iwa going to stroke some away- heart sinking when you flinch back as if you were afraid of him.

“I-I’m sorry I burned you.”

Iwaizumi’s expression remains stoic as you rush past him into your shared bedroom, hearing the slam of the door echo throughout the apartment. Only when he hears the lock turn is when he covers his mouth tightly with his palm, his own set of tears dribbling over his knuckles as he muffles his sobs into his hand.

You were afraid of him.

Iwa takes in deep breaths through the nose, hope sparking in his heart when he hears the door open only to shut tightly a few seconds after. Stepping over the shards, he goes to investigate with a heavy heart-

only for more drops to fall off his knuckles and onto the floor as he picks up the burn ointment, bandages, and disinfectant. Slowly, regret and guilt brimmed in his chest, he slides his back against the door until he’s sitting, hanging his head between his knees as one hand loosely holds the bottle of burn ointment.

Even in a fight, you cared about him.

The one good thing in his life right now, and he let his temper win.

“Y/N.” His voice croaks, grip tightening on the ointment. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry that I’m an idiot. I don’t care about the burn or my cuts anymore, what about your hand?”

Iwaizumi feels a small sense of relief when he hears your own back against the door, sliding until you’re on the floor with your knees tucked into your chest. His voice softens even more, wanting to selfishly see you.

“Y/N? Tell me you’re okay.”

You stay silent, examining the scarlet on your finger as a few more stray tears slip your eyes, wanting nothing more than to hold him.

“Tell me you’re okay, Y/N. Please-”

“To be honest, I’m kind of scared.” Your voice falls to a whisper as Iwaizumi clenches his fist in anger at himself, hanging his head even lower as he wonders if what was done was the slightest bit reparable.

“I get it if you don’t want to be with me. Just say the word and I’ll-”

Your legs are moving before you can think, and suddenly your hand is on the lock twisting it and throwing the door open. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen as his jaw slacks, tackling him into a hug from behind, standing on your knees as you hug him tightly in his sitting position. Iwa curses, loving the feel of you holding him as heat begins to flood his eyes again, the fear of losing you becoming too much to bear.

“Don’t say even more idiotic things.” You whisper, hugging him even tighter as you feel Iwaizumi- solid, strong, stone-hard Iwaizumi- quiver as he wonders what he did to deserve someone like you.

He sniffs, wiping his eyes with his sleeve harshly and turning to you with puffy eyes before handling you with a gentleness that you rarely got to see, sitting in front of you silently as he fiddles with the bandages and disinfectant.

“Let me see.”

“Hajime, yours are worse-”

“Don’t care.” He mutters, gently taking your wrist as if you were porcelain, before opening some disinfectant and eyeing you.

“Hold on to my arm. It’s gonna sting.”

You bite your lip, clenching Iwa’s muscle as the sting of the disinfectant seems less painful than usual, not being able to hold back your soft smile when he takes the utmost care in wrapping the kitten bandage around your finger.

“You next.” You go to grab the disinfectant, frowning when Iwa shakes his head.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Why so sad?” You attempt a joke, pulling Iwa’s hand back and beginning to give him the same treatment as Iwa tries to keep a straight face, eyeing you as if you were some beautiful discovery before pulling you tightly into his embrace as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Hajime I’m not done-”

“I love you.”

You smile into his shoulder, pretending not to notice the tears that were wetting the back of your shirt.

“Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t flinch away from me. I’m so goddamn sorry-”

“Hajime.”

“What?” He furrows his brows as if you were challenging him when you pull back, wondering if you would tease him for his heartfelt words before you kiss him fully, smiling into it when Iwa sighs as if he was releasing pent up emotion. His hand holds you there for a minute before he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, thumb stroking your cheek distractedly.

“We’ll get through this.”

Iwa’s lips quirk up in a half smile before he kisses your temple, using both hands to cup your face.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re right, you don’t.”

Iwa rolls his eyes at your cheeky grin, still finding you perfect despite the red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“Brat.”

“Dickhead.”

“Can we...go eat dinner after we clean up?” Iwa looks off to the side, suddenly embarrassed as you gape at how unbelievably cute he was being, before holding his hand out to you.

You smile softly, eyes suddenly dry before standing and wrapping your bandage-wrapped finger around his.

“Yeah. I made your favorite.”

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @savemesteeb @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #seijoh #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu seijoh #haikyuu aoba johsai #haikyuu #haikyuu anime

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

➥ masterlist

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Obnoxious Couple | Stiles Stilinski

✦ pairing — Stiles Stilinski x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.3k

✦ request — Obviously the reader(female preferably) would be plus sized. Maybe, she’s having a bad day concerning her weight and image. And she compares herself to Lydia and Allison. So she wants comfort from Stiles but he’s not there atm so she takes in of his hoodies, which doesn’t fit correctly,and she gets frustrated and stiles walks in and sees her distress and then comforts her. Maybe end it with a minor make out sesh. But nothing beyond that?

✦ warnings — angst, self-esteem issues, some vagueness in an attempt to not trigger anybody’s dysmorphia, light fluff.

════════════════════════

Stiles found you crying at the foot of the bed, arms tangled in black fabric as sobs raked your body.

It wasn’t the first time he saw you cry, he knew it wouldn’t be the last either, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Baby,” he softly spoke to get your attention.

You lifted your head, startled. Embarrassment washed over you, only making you sob harder.

He approached you slowly as though you were a hurt animal, frowning as he tried to figure out what you were wearing.

Crouching down, he hesitated as his hand trembled. He eventually placed it on your back.

You couldn’t stop crying — you didn’t know how you’d ever look at him in the eye and explain what was going on.

Your day started poorly, honestly. From the moment you made the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror while attempting to get ready, you knew it would be one of those days.

It made you consider canceling plans with your friends which in hindsight you should have done.

But you didn’t. You sucked it up and met Allison and Lydia. You missed them, life often got in the way and you didn’t want to lose them just because you weren’t teenagers with free time anymore.

However, the moment you arrived at the meeting point, you knew how badly you had fucked up. They looked so pretty and so happy to see you — that should have been enough, and it was until you observed Allison was wearing her partner’s oversized t-shirt.

People weren’t supposed to feel like shit around their friends, even less when their friends had missed them and are glad to see them. So feeling like shit prompted you to feel guilty.

You knew it wasn’t completely rational, but you couldn’t help the way you felt.

You came up with an excuse to leave early. Allison and Lydia knew you were lying, but they let you be — you needed space.

You truly did, but you didn’t want to be alone. And when you felt like not being alone although it would be wiser, you always went to Stiles.

He wasn’t home. He didn’t tell you he’d be busy or what he’d do while you were out so everything you could do was wait.

Your shared bedroom felt too big without him and too small all at once.

Big. Big. Big. Big. Your brain wasn’t helping.

Comfort became a need as the minutes passed. You had always found Stiles’s scent comforting and seeing as he didn’t seem to be getting home soon, you took the liberty to pick a piece of clothing from his closet.

As you inhaled his scent, you remembered how good Allison looked in her partner’s clothes.

That was what lead you to cry on the bedroom floor, stuck in your boyfriend’s hoodie.

You knew the idea had been silly, he was smaller than you, but you had to try to fit in his clothes. You had always wanted to wear something of his.

“I just wish I could wear your clothes like my friends wear their partners’.” Admitting it was not only embarrassing but unbelievably sad.

You had never told him how you felt about sharing clothes so he wouldn’t get upset. What if he didn’t even want to wear yours?

“I know.” He rubbed your back in circles. “But their partners are bigger than me.”

“Well, your girlfriend is bigger than their girlfriends,” you bitterly answered. “And than you.”

He sighed heavily. “Did you expect me to change my body when I started dating you?”

“No.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to change yours either. I’m not an asshole.” He made a pause then admitted, “I mean, I am, but not like that and not towards you.”

You attempted to huff a laugh, but your clogged nose didn’t let you.

He wiped your tears. “Let’s get you out of this thing and clean your pretty face.”

You lifted your arms, avoiding his face as you waited for him to get you unstuck from his hoodie.

Stiles tugged on the fabric and pulled the hoodie off you. “Oooh, is this new?” he asked, referring to your blouse.

You nodded.

“It’s pretty. You look good.” He threw the hoodie onto the bed and stood up. “You need help?”

“No. I’ll wash my face in the bathroom.”

You looked down at the sink as you stood in the bathroom. You felt stupid for crying over a hoodie that didn’t fit; clothes hadn’t fit you before and it had never hurt like this.

Cold water hit your skin and you reminded yourself to avoid the mirror as you lifted your head to dab your face dry.

What would Stiles think of you now? Would this make him realize he wanted to be with somebody who fit in his clothes?

It took you some courage to go back to the bedroom.

“Come here, baby.” Stiles patted the other side of the bed.

He had already changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. As you approached him, you observed the tv control was on his lap.

You sat with your back against the headboard. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing yet.”

You hummed.

“Hey.” He placed his hand on your thigh so you’d look at him. When you did, he said, “You can always talk to me when you have a bad day.”

“I know.” In fact, you often told him how you were feeling and why, but this particular thing was different. “It’s kinda embarrassing, though... I mean, it’s not something I can suddenly change, is it?”

“No,” he admitted. “I just don’t want you to go through that all by yourself.”

“Yeah, but you’ll tell me there’s nothing wrong with me or whatever and—“ You interrupted yourself.

“And what?”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to put it out there and manifest it or something.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, but it’s normal to feel bad sometimes.” He turned the TV off, shuffling on the bed to face you properly. “Look, I get insecure every time you hang out with your tall coworker, but you come home to me, so who cares?”

“Yeah, but come on! You fit in my clothes but I don’t fit in yours, it’s...”

“Cute?”

You glared at him.

“I think it’s cute,” he assured you. “Besides, you smell better than I do.”

“I like the way you smell.”

“You can wear other things I own. A scarf? I think you’d look beautiful in my yellow scarf.”

“That’s a nice scarf,” you conceded.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “We can also wear matching jackets or something if you want.”

“You hate it when people wear matching clothes.”

“Maybe it’s time we become an obnoxious couple.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Resting your head on his shoulder, you told him, “I think we’re already obnoxious.”

“How dare you?” he feigned offense. “We’re perfect, baby.”

“Whatever you say.”

He wiggled his shoulder so you’d lift your head.

You did so and gazed at him. “What?”

“Give me a kiss.”

You gave his lips a peck. Stiles frowned and reached over to take you by the face. He brought you onto him and captured your lips with his.

Kissing him back, you shifted so you wouldn’t hurt him or yourself. Stiles prodded your mouth open and deepened the kiss, holding you tight.

Once you parted, you rested your forehead on his. He smiled at you. “You know I love you, right? Like a lot?”

“I know.” You inhaled and exhaled softly. “I love you too. So much.”

“Mmhmm. I like hearing it.”

It was your time to smile.

As the day came to an end, the room got darker and although you didn’t know what time it was exactly, you knew many hours had passed since you left your friends.

“I should probably text Lydia and Allison...”

“Yeah, you should.” Stiles allowed you to move as he sat up. “Can I choose what we watch?”

You nodded before leaving the bed in search for your cellphone.

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x plus size reader #stiles stilinski

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Flaws

Written for @honeysucklesteve’s 4k writing challenge! If you haven’t, go check her out because she’s amazing!

Pairing: Mickey Henry x fem!Reader

Summary: You hate his music taste. He hates yours. You have a bad habit of stealing his gigs. He has a bad habit of fucking you until you can’t walk straight. Everyone has flaws. What are you to do about it?

Word Count: 3822

Warnings: Cursing, hate sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight edging, there’s a mirror involved, drugs, alcohol, clubbing, smoking, one mention of lung cancer, mentions of Monday’s plot, so slight spoilers; (I hope I’m not forgetting anything. These kinds of warnings are new to me. If I am, feel free to tell me.)

18+ PLEASE!!! MINORS DNI!!!

A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a while, but here you go! I’m so nervous about posting this. Honestly. I feel like I kinda rushed it a little? I dunno if it’s good. Uhm, I will say that Mickey is not soft in this. You know how he’s all cute and flirty in the movie? Yeah. Not here. I have plans to write for him later on where he’s more on character and adorable and all that, but it’s enemies to lovers and he hates reader and reader hates him. So. Yeah. Have fun with that.

This is a few firsts for me; first published smut, first Mickey Henry fic, and first enemies-to-lovers ever! I’m attached to friends-to-lovers (my parents’ fault), so going in the opposite direction is exciting and I hope it works out! (We’ll see what it can become after it’s been written.)

Also! Yes, I’m adding the link to the inspiration of the remix here. You’ll see what I’m talking about. I imagine more bass, but that’s basically it.

As always, all mistakes are mine and please excuse them as it’s not beta’d! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

Part Two - Addictions

My Masterlist

*****

Between the tumultuous, voice losing cheers and the pounding, headache inducing bass, it’s a miracle the occupants of the building can hear anything at all. The large room is doused in bright pinks, purples and blues, glitter getting into every pore and crack, the smell of cigarette smoke and booze lingering in the air.

Bodies pressed together uncomfortably tight, breath and sweat mixing in a way that can’t be enjoyable, but no one notices because they’re all too high and drunk. There’s a couple swallowing each other in every dark corner of the room. A group of guys looking to get some are laughing rather obnoxiously at the bar, having consumed far too much alcohol to be safe.

Bouncers are escorting people out left and right; a streaker who decided to get on a table and dance, a couple who took it a bit too far over the bar counter, a group of girls who were no doubt too young to be in such an environment. Boisterous, chaotic, borderline dangerous.

There’s no place he’d rather be on a Friday night.

Up on the center stage, playing around with his tracks, messing with the turntables, pulse connecting to the music, head bobbing with the beat. He’s in control.

Every party. Every Friday, Saturday, Sunday night. Every weekend.

He’s in control.

It’s what he liked so much about doing what he does. Once he’s booked, he’s booked. It’s his night. He controls the sounds people hear. He controls what they dance to. How they dance. The pace of the night. The feeling of the night. And no one can take it away from him.

No one, that is, except you.

He hears you before he sees you, which is nearly impossible considering how loud the music is, but you somehow manage to take control of the room the moment you walk in it. You always get what you want with a bat of your eyelashes. And if you aren’t given it, you take what you want without regard for other people.

It really really pisses him off.

You’re laughing with a group of your friends, guys and girls’ heads swiveling to stare at you, captivating every heart in the room as per usual. You always show up with the same group, but he doesn’t even know any of their names even though you run in the same circles. It’s not like you end up hanging out with them for long, and you never leave with them. No, no. You always leave with him.

And that pissed him off too.

He can’t help it. He has absolutely no control over himself when it comes to you. And he hates you for it. He hates that he lets you take over with only a few snarky comments in his defense. He hates that you always get into his head. And he hates that you’re the best fuck he’d ever had and he can never get enough of you.

But most of all…he hates your music.

“Hey, hey! There he is!” You send him that infuriating smile of yours, a drink in your hand. It’s a flaw of yours. One of many, but probably the biggest. Alcohol. Like him and his cigarettes. He watches you with narrowed eyes as you effortlessly move through the crowd, your girls and guys seeming to vanish into the mob with every step you take.

You end up in front of the stage, leaning on it and giving him a smirk as you sip on your beverage choice of the night. It’s always something different. The only common factor is the alcohol you crave, letting it wash over your tongue, burn down your throat and slip into your veins.

“Heya, Mouse!”

“Don’t call me that!” He shouts with a growl over the music, pulling his headphones down around his neck. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I got called this morning! Said there was a gig tonight!”

He shakes his head, gesturing to the set up. “You’re a bit too late there, sunshine! Gig’s booked!”

You shake your head back at him. “I’m taking over from here, Mouse!”

“Says who?!”

“Argyris!”

His jaw clenches, his forehead creasing, a skeptical scoff leaving his lips. “Fuck you! No he didn’t! He said this one’s mine!”

You just give a shrug, no cares in the world, downing the rest of your drink. “You can fuck me later! For now, if you wanna whine about it, Daddy’s over there!”

Another growl leaves his chest as he scowls at you, eyes darting to where you’re pointing. Argyris is by the bar, of course, swaying on the seat. Barking out a laugh, he looks at you with a shake of his head. “He’s so drunk he probably shit himself again! You can’t take his word for it!”

“I can when he called me this morning, sober as he can get!” You shoot back, hopping up to stand besides him. “Besides! Someone’s gotta make sure these people have an actual good time!”

“Don’t touch anything until I get back!” He snaps, pointing warningly at you as he starts to walk towards Argyris.

You smile innocently, even though he knows you’re anything but. “Yes, sir!”

He marches over to his asshole friend and grabs him by the shirt, turning him around. “Mickey! Havin’ a good time?!”

Mickey glares, feeling his blood boil and his ears heat up, not from the proximity of strangers around him. “What the fuck?! You told sunshine over there that she could have my gig?!”

“I thought you’d wanna break! Dance and relax for a little bit! It’s only a two hour slot I gave her!”

“You should’ve fucking asked, Argyris! I don’t want her anywhere near my-” His sentence is cut off by a change in the music and he whips over to the stage where you’re grinning and jumping with the crowd. You catch his eye and throw him a wink, holding one of the headphone cups over your ear. “ Oh for the love of - she’s messing with my stuff!”

“I thought you liked her!”

Spluttering, Mickey gapes at the other man in disbelief. “Like her? I can’t stand her! She’s so fucking annoying!”

“What’s so annoying about her?!”

Mickey snatches the drink Argyris was about to gulp down and slams it on the counter. “She’s a spoiled fucking brat! Everyone lets her do whatever she wants! She steals half my fucking gigs! And her music is shit! Listen to this!”

Argyris looks around the room and shrugs. “Everyone else seems to like it! Sure it’s different than your disco-”

“It’s not disco!”

“But it’s a crowd pleaser! Just relax! Have a drink and go dance!”

“Argyris!” Wanting to scream in frustration, he watches the man stumble off to get another drink down the bar. “Dammit! This is fucking shit.” Grumbling to himself, Mickey storms back over to the stage, easily pulling himself up.

You bite your lip and raise an eyebrow at him. “So?! How’d your date with Argyris go?!”

“I hate you so fucking much! Use your own fucking headphones!” He snatches the pair from your neck, pulling the cord out. “Why do you always have to steal my gigs?!”

You shrug, leaning forwards to brush your lips against his ear. “Yours are so much fun.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyebrows furrowing. This always happens. Every time. The moment he feels in control, you do something and he feels every ounce of himself slipping away. It’s the reason he fucks you. To take back that control he so easily gives to you. To make sure you understand that on the weekends, he’s in charge.

But not tonight. No, no. Not tonight. He refuses to get caught up in that game tonight. You wouldn’t end up in an alley or some bathroom with him. He wouldn’t end up on your couch or in his kitchen with you. He refuses to let it happen. Again.

Instead, he lets out a chuckle and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever sunshine.” He takes a step back, giving you a smirk as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You have fun playing your shitty music!”

“Have fun moping!” You call back, turning to the table and ignoring him completely as he groans and jumps off the stage.

Good God. You’re infuriating.

But so is he.

You hate Mickey Henry. You just do. You hate that he has zero responsibilities and gets away with it. You hate that he can charm his way out of any situation. You hate how immature he is and how no one ever forces him to grow up. And you hate how easily you let him take charge when he’s with you. After a life full of people making choices for you, you crave control, but with him? The moment he tells you to get on your knees, you fall, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

But most of all…you hate his music.

You take his gigs to save people from listening to it, but also so he knows he can’t talk every situation into his favor. That Argyris can’t always take care of his job for him. He never checks up on gigs once Argyris tells him he has them. So it’s really his fault for not taking some responsibility.

Watching from the stage as your music flows through you, vibrating your bones and sinking into your skin, you’re not surprised to see him get out a cigarette as he heads to a mutual acquaintance of yours. He has many flaws, but that’s a major one. Like you and your alcohol. Him and his cigarettes. You wouldn’t be surprised if you learn a couple months from now that he has lung cancer.

Mickey is talking low to the guy and you already know what’s going on. That was a flaw you both shared. Drugs. He is much more intense than you though. While you’d be fine with some pot, he almost always hits hard with cocaine. Not that you’re innocent from that type yourself - you’d done it multiple times with the man himself if you ended up at each other’s place. Never in the bedroom. You never made it that far, and you don’t really care to. But after those times bent over the table, being pounded into the couch, hanging against the wall, you’d get high with him before one of you takes off.

You’re not exactly sure what happened earlier. You were a bit shocked when he stepped away. Not that you usually left so early, but he didn’t even stay to bicker some more.

Not that you care. You’re just…curious. Maybe he’s finally growing tired of the game you’ve been playing. You’ve been playing it for a few years now. With that weird little pause last year.

You actually thought he had changed.

Having run into him at a party, you prepared yourself for the arguing that no doubt would end in sex. But it didn’t. It didn’t even start. He was with someone. Like, steady with someone. As in dating someone. Living with her. To the point where his baby mama actually agreed to let him keep his boy in their apartment as long as they were together.

It was a weird six months. You two actually had real conversations. You knew how soft and goofy he could get; you had loads of mutual friends and often went to the same parties so you’d seen that side of him. It was just…odd because it never came out with you. But it did then. And you…liked it. You didn’t see him as often, especially once his kid was cleared to live with them. He stopped going out on weekends, started just attending the small shindigs your friends hosted, worked from home instead of DJing.

But then his girl - what was her name? Claire? Caitie? You can’t remember - left for a job in the States just a few months ago and he was back to square one. His baby mama took back the custody privileges, he went back to partying every weekend, and you fell right back into your petty bickering and rough fucking.

You feel bad. Really, you do. You heard that he’d actually loved that chick. And you know he wanted to see his kid more. You knew about the room at his place. But that almost made you hate him more. That he went right back to his old self. He didn’t even try. He got a taste of being a responsible adult, and then let it go.

Because no matter how hard people try, flaws are flaws. And no one can change that much.

As the night goes on, more booze enters your system, while more cocaine enters his. There’s the occasional glare or immature finger raising between you two. Mickey even sticks his tongue out at you while dancing with some broad, a smirk lifting up the corners of his mouth as yours twist down and your eyes roll.

Your features quickly morph into smug amusement as an idea pops into your head and his eyes narrow. What are you up to? He quickly finds out as you stop the music and bring a microphone to your lips.

“Hey, hey, party people! Everyone’s night going fantastic?!” Cheers are your response. Mickey scowls, not liking where this is going, and starts heading your way. You wink at him. “I’m gonna change it up for just this one song! It’s a dedication song to a good friend of mine! It’s a bit different than the usual stuff, but it’s a bop, I promise! Here’s to the Mouse!”

He immediately freezes as the song starts. “Meeska! Mooska! Mickey Mouse!” He feels his face heat up, his fists balling up at his sides, glaring at you and your shit eating grin as you roll your body to the beat, his feet taking him to the stage.

Effortlessly lifting himself onto it once more, he grabs both your wrists in one of his larger ones to stop the music without you interfering, his rings digging into your skin. “Aww! But, Mouse! We didn’t even get to the roll call!”

“Shut. Up.” He grits out through clenched teeth, putting something else on absentmindedly. He didn’t want Argyris on his ass later for leaving the crowd without music. “God. Stop being a fucking pain in my fucking ass for one fucking minute.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s pulling you away before you can reply. Next thing you know he’s shoving you into the bathroom, growling at the girls that were smoking up the place to get out.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you, princess?” He hisses in your ear, slamming you against the door once the girls left. He’s so tired of giving in to you, but he can’t help it, crashing his lips against yours messily. Teeth and tongue, the taste of smoke and the fruity drink you had chosen for the night mixing, only making him press closer. Your hands get pinned above your head and he’s pulling your skirt up, bunching it at your waist. It’s rough and careless and fueled by loathing, but when is it not? “Think you’re so funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath, smirking as he slots a thigh between your legs, squeezing your hips and pressing you down against him, flexing the muscle and making you squirm.

His teeth are biting at your bottom lip and tugging, his hands dragging your clothed core along his thigh. “Let’s see how funny you think you are when I’m fucking you so hard you forget how to breathe.”

Your breath hitches and your hands previously above your head clutch onto his shirt at the friction against your clit. It’s not enough and he knows, but you don’t tell him. “All this over a silly song?” You jest.

He sneers back at you, ignoring your tease. “Did you get jealous, sunshine? Is that what happened? Is that why you decided to be a little shit?”

“Jealous?” You scoff as he attacks your neck, your hands quickly undoing his belt before he shoves his pants down, his briefs following along with your panties. “Jealous of you, maybe. That girl was hot. Way outta your lea - oh shit.”

You always forget how deep he reaches inside you, how much the stretch is. He’s not soft about it, entering you in one swift thrust, your hips connecting. His hands are dimpling your bare thighs, hefting you up so your legs wrap around his waist, rings on his fingers no doubt making imprints. The door against your back starts rattling with every movement, but the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear it.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He snaps in time with his hips. He can feel you tightening around him, your fingers dragging down his chest, trying desperately to pull his shirt off.

“C’mon, Mouse. That's all you got?” You pant out, a little whine leaving your lips when he leaves you suddenly, dropping you to your feet. “Mickey! What-”

He cuts you off by pushing you against the counter, a shout leaving your lip when he takes you from behind, making you surge forwards, your head almost hitting the mirror, pelvis hitting your ass with every piston of his hips. His hand is tangled in your hair and he tugs, making your head snap up. “Look at you. So fucked out. I did that. I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had and we both know it.” He isn’t wrong. Your makeup’s a mess, your hair is wrapped around his fingers.

“You’re the one who keeps fucking me.” You argue back, your spine arching as he hits that perfect spot inside you. Over and over and over.

He growls, leaning forwards to fold over you, his lips by your ear. “And who keep being a fucking brat? Huh? Who keeps coming to my gigs, fucking up my weekend? Practically begging me to fuck you.”

You scowl at him in the mirror. “I don’t beg.”

The chuckle that leaves his lips makes you shiver and you whimper when he tugs your hair harder, the sting of your scalp mixing with the pleasure his cock was giving you.

“You will. You may get everything you want from everyone else, princess, but I’m in charge here. Don’t. You. Forget.” His words are punctuated with a hard thrust, making you lurch forwards, your thighs pressing harshly against the counter.

“Oh God…Mickey,” that familiar tightness in your stomach appears, your eye clenching shut as your toes curl. “I’m so close…”

“Open your goddamn eyes. Look who’s doing this to you. Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?”

Your eyes snap open and meet his again, his breaths fanning across your face, rapidly becoming less steady. “You.”

“That’s right. You wanna cum, sunshine?” You nod vigorously. He takes your lobe between his teeth and tugs as he stills his hips, keeping himself inside you. “Then beg.”

And, just like the many times before, you do. You do because you don’t actually care about begging. You care about him ruining you. That’s what you want. And you always get what you want. Fuck your dignity.

He starts up slowly again as you plead, stopping a couple more times when you feel yourself getting close. “Mickey! Please, for the love of God!” He’s never edged you this much. Not this intensely. And not in the bathroom at a club. Usually it’s just a quickie before you take him home or vice versa.

But you pissed him off tonight. More so than usual. It was a good night and then you came along. Took his job. Played that dumb song. So he needs to remind you. Put you in your place. “You may be spoiled by everyone else, princess, but I’m the only one who can give you what you really want.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” You grind out through your clenched teeth.

He just smirks. “That wasn’t a denial. Let go, Y/N. Make a mess of my cock. Watch yourself fall apart for me.”

You do as he says, watching your jaw go slack in a silent scream, your body tensing, your legs shaking, as he finally lets you have what you want. Body going slack against the counter, he keeps rutting into you until he groans, a string of profanities leaving his lips as he spills inside you.

The both of you stay there, with him folded on top of you, his forehead resting against the nape of your neck, his grip on your hair loosening.

“That was fun. A little different.” You hum as he gets up. He’s glaring at you as you straighten and fix yourself. “Good orgasm though, so thanks for that. But I gotta get back to work now.”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” He mutters, tucking himself away and pulling his pants up.

“Kinky. Maybe next time.” You wink at him through the mirror and his jaw ticks. He’s so fucking tired of it. Of you. How you let him have that one bit of control and then your right back to controlling the room once you get what you want. There’s so many nights where he wonders if he should just stop giving it to you. But then he’s inside you and he can’t help himself.

He watches you touch yourself up, although you still look thoroughly fucked, but you don’t seem to mind. This is new. You going back to the gig you stole after sex. He wonders if that was the last time for tonight, or if you’d be leaving together later too.

“I fucking hate you.” He spits out as you open the door, wanting to get the last word in.

You just smirk the same way he did to you earlier. “Yeah…but you love fucking me. Later, Mouse.”

Just like always, you’re the last comment as you walk out nonchalantly, even though he could see the slight wobble in your steps, the door shutting behind you, leaving him alone.

You hate Mickey Henry. You loathe him. You wish you never met him. But you can’t get enough. No matter how many times you convince yourself you have him where you want him, you know you don’t. You’d let him do anything to you. But you can’t stop. Like him and his cigarettes. He’s your flaw. And no matter how bad he is for you, you’re addicted.

Mickey Henry hates you. He loathes you. He wishes he never met you. But he can’t get enough. No matter how many times he convinces himself he’s in control, he knows he’s not. He always gives you what you want at the end of the day. But he can’t stop. Like you and your alcohol. You’re his flaw. And no matter how bad it is for him, he’s addicted.

*****

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@happygoreading @bibliophilewednesday @breadqueen95 @marvelettesassemble @w-wolfhxrd @the-larry-romance @abitofeverythinggg

#mickey henry x reader #mickey henry x reader smut #mickey x reader #monday the movie #monday the movie mickey #honeybunswritingchallenge #cjswriting #💙🇬🇷🥵

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svchengss · 3 years

Text

two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

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