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jedi-luca · 11 months

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Something’s in the Air - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk (graphic image inside)

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you.

Reader has a penis; no pronouns used.

Part 1 can be found on @dirtyvulture page

3 Hours Later

“We should probably get out of here.” You chuckled looking at the destroyed hospital bed before looking back at your girlfriend. She was looking at you in a way that simultaneously scares and turns you on. “Nat?” You croak feeling her clench you.

“Oh we’re not going anywhere.” Natasha used the sheer power of her thighs to straddle you. “I need you Y/N. So badly it’s like I'm in pain without you inside of me.”

“Babe, we've been going at it for like 3 hours now. I want breakfast and sleep.”

“I need you so badly it hurts.” She mewled, rocking her push against your flexing abs.

“Maybe Dr. Cho has an antidote to this exposure.” You say, hating the thought of her in pain. “Give me a chance to get hard again. Get on my face.” you say already pulling her by the hips.

Natasha eagerly turned around lowering her hips. She needed to squirt and when she relented control she would be shaking, eyes rolling to the back of her head, Russian words fleeting her lips because she can’t even distinguish English from Russian. She shook with anticipation, feeling your lips kissing her thighs.

You swiped your tongue causing the ex-assassin to let out a long moan as she felt your lips wrap around her bud. You enter her with two fingers making her gasp. Her hips were rocking roughly against your mouth and fingers. You kept one hand against her abdomen.

Your voluptuous girlfriend looked down at your semi. Her mouth salivated. She was embarrassed to say she definitely drooled a bit on you before lifting your member, and fully stuffing you down her throat.

You groaned, sending vibrations against her clit causing Natasha to moan. Sending the same vibrations with you down her throat. She could feel your abs flexing and your toes stretching. It always made her unbelievably wet when she made you moan or twitch. She gasped feeling your fingers tapping inside of her. Winding up her coil in a way only you know how.

Meanwhile outside the door of an Un-soundproofed room

“Bruce you know how I feel about bringing your work in here.” Steve furrows his brows walking into the kitchen seeing Bruce and Cho typing on their laptops. Test tubes along the table.

“Yeah Natasha and Y/N are occupying that area at the moment.” He chuckled, taking his glasses off looking at a giggling Cho.

“Well then just move them!” Steve huffed before turning on his heel.

“Cap, I don't recommend going that way.” Cho and Bruce said in unison.

“Why?” He huffed.

“Natasha was exposed to a hydra chemical.” Doctor Cho said with a sigh. “We’re trying to find an antidote now.”

“Oh well I’ll go check on her.”

“Cap, Y/N is with her.” Bruce said, looking at him in a way Steve couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh good, I needed to talk to Y/N anyway.” He smiled Before Cho or Bruce could say another word Steve was going up the stairs and down the hall.

“This should be good.” Tony cackled watching him go up as he brought his team an iced coffee and a boom box that dummy was carrying.

Steve stopped in his tracks the moment he heard the moaning and ran back down. “They’re doing it.” He said cringing as running past them.

“Oh I can’t make this shit up.” Tony laughed before blaring some AC DC.

Back in the medbay

“Y/N.” She breathes out, popping you out of her mouth suddenly. Natasha’s mouth went agape feeling a great pressure in her core before feeling herself release into your mouth like a waterfall. “Oh my God yessss.”

Natasha moved away from your mouth and gripped you with her hand.

“Fuck baby.” You both moaned as she slid her velvet walls down your shaft.

“You feel sooooo good.” Natasha gasped, placing one hand on your chest and the other on your thigh. Using momentum to rock her hips. “So good, so good!” She chanted rocking and rocking until she quivered above you. Squelching sounds of your combined fluids filled the room, and the pristine crisp smell of clean chemicals was long gone. The only smell was the scent of sex.

You caught her before she fell against your chest. You could see tears in her eyes as her pussy convulsed around you. “I love you so much.” She cried against your forehead.

“I love you too baby. So much.” You say softly in her ear before taking her wrists behind her back with one hand. The other hand wraps around her throat as you thrust up.

“Yeah! Ooooh!” She lets out a throaty groan trying to meet your thrusts. Wiggling and circling her hips. She was so wild, more so than when you were both stuck on an island for 3 weeks.

You moan pulling out quickly causing Natasha to clench around nothing. “No back inside.” She muttered trying to grip you, but you sat up with her in your lap. You slip back inside of her.

“Yes!” She cries out gasping for air kissing you with both hands roughly before breaking gasping for breath. She chanted yes as you suckled on her neck her breathing picking up and her hips rocking faster and faster.

Natasha hooks her arm around you moaning as she arches back, throwing back her hair. “Fuck.” She groans using her other arm to help with momentum. You trail your lips from the nape of her neck down to her rosy nipples. Squeezing and sucking leaving marks in your wake.

You can feel the pressure inside of her. She's so close. Her clit is hitting your flexed abs with every rock she makes. Your hands felt like they were everywhere and your lips and tongue took a hold of her. The red head wrapped both arms around you squeezing you as she came apart. You could feel the rush of liquid and drops of her tears against your skin. “Ooh fuck ohhh Y/N it feels so good!” She cried against your neck. “It feels - so fucking good.” She moaned humping you over and over again as her orgasim continued.

You grunted pulling out before you exploded.

“Fuck Nat!” You say throwing her around until she was on all fours dripping like a fire hydrant. She loved when you were at this stage almost like a caveman. She loved how tiny she is compared to you. She looked back looking at the way your muscles gleamed with sweat. The veins running down your abs to your thick cock made her impossibly even hornier.

“You’re so insatiable.” You pant, sweat running down your body.

She whined.

“Get back inside.” She whimpered against the pillow with her ass up in the air.

“Don’t be a brat baby.” You say gruffly slapping her ass before palming her ass cheeks.

She whined. “Please keep going, don't stop.”

You slap her ass a few times before sheathing yourself deep inside of her.

“Yes, yes, oh Y/N, don’t stop! Don’t ever fucking stop.” She moaned, meeting your harsh thrusts. She could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away when you held her back letting your hands massage her.

You felt Natasha reach below her body to massage her clit meeting your thrusts as you railed into her.

“You like that baby?”

She groans in response, drooling on her pillow as her pussy convulses around you. You slap her ass at her lack of response. “Yes! Oh so much! So much. I’m so close.”

You began drilling your hips faster and faster against her favorite spot.

“Just like that! Just like that! Don’t stop! Don’t stop im so close! Im so close.”

You could feel your own release nearing. You grunted drilling faster and harder than before making your girlfriend speak in Russian begging for you to keep going.

“Oh fuck Nat this is it baby I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Let go baby, fill me up.” She spoke in her mother tongue. “I'm so ready.” you felt her convulse knowing she was near and so were you.

You groaned shooting ropes and ropes of your seed deep within her womb. “Fuck!” You both moaned loudly when the door opened. You were too busy twitching inside Natasha to see Maria walk inside with two syringes in her hands.

“Go to sleep.” Was the last thing you heard the woman say before you and Natasha pass out.

40 hours later

You and Natasha stirred awake at the same time.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” You grinned sleepily as you brought her over closer to you.

“Hmm, good morning my love.” She giggled feeling you pepper her face with kisses.

“It’s actually 9:30PM on a Tuesday evening.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

You and Nat look at one another with wide eyes as the sex marathon comes to mind.

“Would you like to hear a voice memo from Maria Hill?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. Asks.

“Yes.” You sighed.

“Natasha you were exposed to sex pollen which is why you two were having a sex marathon in the medbay which is destroyed by the way. I took you both off missions for the rest of the week. Rest up bitches.”

“The team is going to hold this over our heads for years.” Natasha groaned.

“…Eh…Worth it.” You shrugged, laughing when she smacked your chest before giggling herself.

“You’re terrible.”

“But you love me.” You shrug, smirking.

“I do.” She sighs snuggling into you. Her ass wiggling against your crotch.

“Watch it babe don’t start a fire you can’t put out.”

“My ass isn’t sore. Wanna make it sore?” She smirked looking back at you.

This woman was going to be the death of you.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x g!preader #@dirtyvulture

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happyandticklish · 2 years

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Tickletober Day Four - Reward

Notes: For the prompt by @ticklepinions. You are responsible for both of my TRC prompts for tickletober, and I am immensely grateful for that as I love having any opportunity to write about my favorite guys~ Sorry this was posted several days after day four, but I’m sticking with the concept that it’s the thought that counts. Hope you enjoy ^^

Summary: Ronan makes an effort to actually show up to class, only to discover that Adam’s approval might be more than he can handle.

“I know why you came today.”

Ronan stiffened, his gaze snapping quickly down to the boy in front of him. Admittedly, it was hard not to look at him. There wasn’t much room in a closet normally, and the brooms and bottles of various hazardous liquids poking into Ronan’s back weren’t helping. Had he made the choice, he would have picked an abandoned classroom, or at the very least a supply closet with a couple more square feet added to it. But Adam had been the one to pull him aside today, grabbing his arm in an unusually authoritative manner and dragging him here almost the moment the bell had rang.

Ronan had assumed what any other teenager would assume when shoved into a closet by their boyfriend. Not for that to come out of Adam’s mouth the moment the door had shut behind them.

“What?” he asked, stupidly, for lack of anything better to say.

This particular supply closet wasn’t a very large space, and as such Adam was pushed up against Ronan. The details of his face were magnified, each freckle or mole standing out in perfect clarity. His eyes were slanted inquisitively, two sheets of ice cutting into Ronan. The attention felt dangerous and exciting all at once, and potentially embarrassing if Adam meant what he thought he did.

“Don’t play dumb Ronan. It doesn’t suit you.” Adam’s hands dangled by his sides, uselessly hanging in the air. The inches between his hands and Ronan’s skin felt like a chasm of space; a force field of anticipation that neither of them could break through. It was endlessly frustrating, but Ronan refused to be the first to break their silent dare.

“I’m enrolled here.”

“You haven’t shown up for months.”

“Maybe I just felt like studying.”

Ronan arched a brow and Adam laughed, a little of the tension in the room easing. And then—

“I am, you know. Impressed.”

“What—”

“That’s what you were after, wasn’t it? My approval?”

Ronan had never been the type of person to gape, so it was a credit to Adam’s influence on him that it was happening now. He snapped his jaw shut seconds later, shifting his gaze to somewhere on the far wall. There was an old broom resting there, and Ronan devoted his attention to studying the intricate details of each worn sliver of wood curving off it as opposed to the slight, but real, smirk curving Adam’s mouth upwards.

Adam took his silence as the admission it was. “If only Gansey had known that all it took to get you to go school was my presence, I’m sure we would have become friends earlier. You might even be graduating next year.”

Ronan grunted noncommittally, distracted by how Adam had moved in, his hands coming to rest somewhere around his hips. He’d felt those hands a million times before but the feeling they caused, the warmth that blossomed and shivered out from them, had yet to fade.

“Is this my reward?” Ronan asked, his voice cool while his insides coiled restlessly. He could practically breathe Adam in from this distance. “If you keep this up, maybe I’ll even go to college.”

It was a laughable statement, but they both knew there was a part of Ronan that was telling the truth. If Adam asked, Ronan would have moved across the world for him; the country was a much smaller price. That had probably contributed to why Adam hadn’t.

Adam’s fingers dug into his hips just slightly, pulling him towards him. Ronan’s breath hitched for more reasons than one. “I have something better planned, actually.”

“I’ll have you know I’m saving myself.”

“Ha.”

“You think I’m hilarious.”

“I think you think you’re hilarious,” Adam corrected dryly, his fingers curling in a little more. Ronan twitched, nearly imperceptibly—nearly being the key word.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you your reward.”

“Adam.”

“Ronan.”

Adam’s thumb was curving into that spot just above the bone and Ronan swayed forward in a stupid kind of a shuffle to try to avoid it. He swallowed, nervous gaze darting for that broom again. “People will hear.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Ronan hissed as Adam’s other hand came into play, scratching delicately against the skin. Sparks of sensation shot out from his hands, and he huffed and grunted and coughed and let out a variety of other noises that were distinctly not laughs. “I don’t think Gansey will approve if you get us both kicked out of school for disrupting classes.”

Adam leaned in, his breath tickling the shell of Ronan’s ear; it took every ounce of willpower in him not to scrunch up at that. “Then you better keep quiet, hmm?”

He started in earnest then, massaging his fingers expertly into his sides and startling a curse out of Ronan. He pressed his face into Adam’s shoulder to muffle his laughter, bending over to reach and allowing Adam access to spider at his ribs. Ronan didn’t even bother trying to fight him off. Doing so would require moving and moving would require leaving the safety of Adam’s shoulder and exposing the uncharacteristically desperate quality to his laughter that was sure to get them both caught. So instead, he wrapped his arms around Adam in an odd mixture between a hug and a man clinging to a lifeline, and simply endured.

It was a cruel and unusual form of torture and Ronan would have killed him if he didn’t love it so much.

“It’s funny,” Adam mused, pinching an unbearable path up his ribs. “Everyone thinks of you as this unstoppable force, an untamed thing. Who would have thought that tickling is all it takes to bring all that confidence and snark to a halt.”

A rebellious something rose in Ronan’s chest, urging him to protest the words, to shove Adam away, to hide from the vulnerability of the statement. He did none of those things. Embarrassed heat crawled down his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut as Adam dug his thumbs under his arms.

“I’m impressed you’re actually holding it in,” Adam said, stumbling back with a laugh as nails curling under Ronan’s arms made him jerk forward suddenly. “I know I wouldn’t be able to.”

There was a shy quality to the words that Ronan made a note to explore later. Not that he’d be able to do anything about it now. He wasn’t able to do much of anything now.

“Still,” Adam continued in a slow, musing way that made Ronan tense. “It wouldn’t be a reward if you’re able to stay quiet the whole time.”

His fingers were poised under his arms, teetering at the top of his ribs—dangerous territory. Ronan gripped Adam’s in a warning, but it did little to deter him.

“If you can keep yourself from reacting, I might consider stopping sometime within the next ten minutes. If not—” Adam shrugged, grinning in a way that spoke volumes of how utterly unapologetic he was for his actions—“Then I’ll have a form of entertainment till next period.”

With the knowledge that Adam’s ‘next period’ wouldn’t be for another hour, Adam’s fingers curled once more and Ronan shook with helpless, unrestrained laughter, dooming himself to a wonderfully inescapable fate.

#tickle fic #tickletober #the raven cycle #pynch #tickling #fanfiction #ronan lynch #adam parrish #trc #tickletober2022 #augtickletober2022

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cosmiclunarprincess-fanfic · 3 years

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Whatever You Want

A/N: My first Hawks fic omg I’m so excited. The smut could've been longer but I was tired writing this. I know most of the time Hawks is depicted as being super aggressive and dominant during his rut but I wanted to try a different approach. I hope you guys enjoy this subby Hawks meal because I know I sure did. Love you all !!!!!

Fandom: Hawks, MHA

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Warnings: I’m not the best when it comes to following writing rules. I pretty much write how I want to, so if you’re a stickler for grammar and what not just ignore it or don’t read loll (I’m nice I promise.) SMUT SMUT SMUT

(Word Count: )

Plot: Spring has hit and Hawks is entering his rut. He is desperate for any type of release.

Spring is here. The weather is great and everyone is in a wonderful mood. Well, almost everyone. My phone continuously vibrates in my lap, my screen lighting up with text after text and call after missed call from my boyfriend. I feel bad not answering him but I have things to do and unfortunately he’s going to have to wait for a while. I sat at my desk trying my best to complete all the work I had left before I left for the day. Heat began to emanate from my phone from the sheer number of notifications coming through. All from one person. Keigo goes through this rut every spring. He told me about it when we first began dating and even though we've been together for two years this is the first time I'm going through it with him. Last year I was in another country on a very important mission. I had to stay on the phone with him for hours while he jerked himself off, saying lewd and obscene things.

He made me promise not to go on any missions that would take me away from him this year. I replied to the last of my emails for the day before closing my computer. As I made my way out the door of my busy office I said my goodbyes to all my co-workers. When I finally got to my car I sighed trying to release all the stress I had built up. The engine of my car revved to life, I backed out of my parking space and drove out onto the road. I used a voice command to call Keigo back as I drove. I just know he’s gonna be pissed.

“Babybird, where have you been all day? I've been calling you nonstop. Why didn't you pick up the phone?” His voice shook as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry babe but I had to finish my work and I didnt want to get distracted. I’m on my way home to you now, don't worry.”

I could hear him shifting in the bed. Probably trying to get comfortable while he waited for me.

“Hurry. Please. I want you so bad. I don’t even know what to do with myself. All I can think about is how badly I want to touch you and hear all the noises you make when I’m inside you. Get home now.”

He hung up before I could even respond. I knew what that meant. I sped home as fast as I could. Once I made it up to our apartment I opened the door to see the place in shambles. Things were all over the place, all the pillows in the living room were gone and ice littered the floor. Slowly I pushed the door open to our room and my vision was instantly blocked by keigo as he rushed me. His hands were all over my body grabbing and squeezing, as if they were searching for any inch of me that wasn't covered by clothing. His mouth crashed into mine. The kiss was desperate and passionate. He nipped at my bottom lip. A small yelp escaped me. His wings fluttered in response.

“Keigo wait - just - I need to - let me just take a shower. I’ll be quick, just give me two minutes.”

“You can shower later. I need you.”

I squirmed and turned, trying to escape his grasp but no matter what I tried I couldn't get away from him. I’d been at work all day running up and down doing all kinds of things. I felt sweaty and icky and all I wanted to do was wash this long day away before I did anything with him. His lips traveled to my neck. He inhaled deeply taking in my scent.

“Babybird you smell so good just the way you are. You don't need to shower.”

My resolve to shower started wearing thin as the heat within my core grew. He placed wet open mouth kisses all over my neck. I moaned, pressing my body into his.

“Please baby, I need you. I’m desperate for you right now. My cock is so hard I can feel it pulsating and so much pre cum is leaking out of me, I can't take it. Please!”

Hearing him beg was like music to my ears. I love it when he lets go and gives me control. It doesn't happen often but when it does I turn into a different person,

“Okay baby I’ll help you. Take these pants off.”

As he removed his pants I unbuttoned my dress shirt and allowed it to slide off of me to the floor. My bra followed soon after. Keigo was on me in an instant, his mouth attached to one of my sensitive nipples while his free hand massaged the other. I cradled his head in my hands gently stroking the nape of his neck. He groaned into my chest.

“That feels so good baby.” I said breathlessly as he moved his attention to my other breast.

My head fell back as I reveled in the feeling of his lips and tongue. His strong hands were wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him. His face was completely engulfed in my chest now.

“Do you like when I hold you like this while your mouth is full with my breast? Hmmm? You like turning me on like that? You wanna be my good boy so badly don’t you?”

He let out a whine like groan. I felt his body shiver. I could see how frustrated he was but I was enjoying myself too much to give in just yet.

“What’s the matter baby? Are you that worked up you can’t even talk anymore? All you can do is moan and groan? All you want is a little release huh? You want to fuck me until I can’t take anymore, until I’m full with all your cum. Is that it?”

I gently slid my fingers down one of his wings just to tease him even more.

“Please! Don’t tease me like that (Y/N) I’m barely holding on here. You’re so fucking hot I just wanna take you right here right now but I also wanna be a such good boy for you it hurts.”

“Okay baby I think I’ve had my fun. Let me make you feel better.”

I knelt down in front of Hawks, his swollen erection twitched with anticipation. His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down on me. He probably thought I was going to give him a blow job but I had something else in mind. I took him in my hand, he inhaled sharply at the contact. I allowed the pre cum leaking from his cock to fall onto my chest as I pumped him slowly allowing it to coat my breasts. The sheer amount that came from him shocked me. I’d never seen anything like it. His hips bucked into my hand desperate for more friction. My slow pace made him growl with frustration. I loved teasing him, he always got needy so quickly but I knew it was time to finally give him what he wanted.

Ever so slowly I guided him in between my breasts and squeezed them together. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could even get the words out he was pumping his cock up and down against my chest. His pace was fast and without thought. His hands gripped my hair pulling it as he used my body for his pleasure.

“It feels s-so good.” He groaned through clenched teeth, throwing his head back

“Look at me. Yes. Is this what you've been craving? Huh? What you've been begging for all day? I know this is what you've been dreaming about. Having your cock between my beautiful soft breasts?”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuk.” He moaned.

I couldn't help but smile. I had him wrapped around my finger in this moment. I could ask anything of him right now and he’d say yes without hesitation. I loved having this control. It really made me feel so powerful to know that I could make such a dominant man like Hawks bend to my will using only my breasts. I could feel his body begin to shiver. His grip on my hair grew even tighter. The veins in his cock bulged and pulsated and I knew he was close.

“If you wanna cum you know what you have to say don't you baby?”

He hesitated, not wanting to give up that last little piece of control.

“Come on, I know you’re so close. It's right there isnt it. All you have to do is say one thing for me.” I pushed my breasts together even more around him.

“Ahhhhhhhh! Can I cum please?!”

“Please what?”

“Mommy!”

That’s all it took. His thrusts were hard and rough as he came all over my face and chest. His whole body convulsed and shook. I could hear the ruffeling of his feathers. Once his movements stopped I used my hand to pump him. He groaned as a jolt went through his body. I was shocked. He was so sensitive yet he was still so hard. I looked up at him in disbelief. A chill ran through my body when we made eye contact. The look on his face was unlike any I'd seen before.

“You’ve had your fun with me babybird now it’s my turn.”

#Hawks #hawks smut #hawks boku no hero academia #hawks headcanons #mha hawks #hawks x reader #smut #aha smut #hawkssmut #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #sub!hawks #hawks rut #sub!keigo #Keigo rut #keigo tamaki #keigo x reader #keigo headcanons #keigo smut

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sleepysnk · 3 years

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*cracks knuckles* alright... it's time, so i kind of got this idea from a friend on discord. all i can see is Zeke this way, so i hope you guys like this 👀. I WILL FEED YOU ALL AGAIN. i hope you enjoy 😏✨.

Sugar Daddy Headcanons

Characters: Zeke Jaeger

Warnings: NSFW

Zeke Jaeger:

- i'm gonna start with some SFW then head into the dirty stuff a bit later 👀.

- honestly this man is fit to be a sugar daddy, he is a CEO of a big company. he makes tons of money and he's single, he needed something or someone to spend it on.

- he went on one of those sugar baby apps and that's when he saw you, the air was knocked out of his lungs seeing how attractive you were. you were gorgeous and he was surprised seeing someone as young as you were on one of these apps.

- you both clicked instantly when you met.

- Zeke isn't the type to force anything out of you, he explained the agreement, how much he'd give you, and so on. which totally surprised you considering how handsome he was.

- you were in college and you were in debt. it shocked you when Zeke pretty much gave you all the money pay it off, he just handed it off to you.

- Zeke spoiled you like there was no tomorrow. he bought you expensive clothing, moved you out of that shitty apartment, and even bought you a fucking car. the car was probably the biggest surprise, you never expected him to go that overboard.

- Zeke lowkey loves jewelry on you, seeing a pretty necklace or pretty earrings is something he admires. expect lots of jewelry from him, especially as gifts. to him, you look like a shiny diamond.

- he took you on the most luxurious dates, whether it be at a restaurant, or it was an expensive island trip.

- HE TOOK YOU ON HIS PRIVATE JET AND YOU WERE ABSOLUTELY SHOCKED.

- many of your friends questioned where you got all that money from.

- whenever you needed that $$$ he was quick to send you about $3000. that was probably the lowest amount he's ever spent on you, this man will tend to your needs whenever you need them.

- you both spent so much time together and that's when a flame was sparked between you both. you weren't very young, he was about 6 years older than you, but you felt like it would be odd having feelings in the mix. Zeke never mentioned once anything about feelings, and you sure as hell didn't want to admit it.

- one day you just broke and told him everything and how you didn't want to be considered just his "sugar baby" anymore.

- he just chuckled and smiled at you.

- "finally you said something, i thought i had to be the one to break the ice. i don't want to be just considered your "sugar daddy" anymore, i rather have you be mine."

- could you really ask for anything better than him?

- NOW LET'S GET DOWN AND DIRTY SHALL WE? it's time for the NSFW.

- sex wasn't exactly a necessity to Zeke, he didn't want to come off as forcing you into sleeping with him, but after multiple conversations you agreed sex would be fine.

- this man will ruin you.

- Zeke is much older and more experienced, so one night after one of your usual dates he went down on you, and you never felt more pleasure than you did in those moments. he made you cum about four times that night. 2/4 were from his tongue and fingers.

- dirty talks the fuck out of you, it is so hot you don't even know.

- "you take my cock so fucking well... fuuckk you're such a good girl,"

- he loves to eat you out 🥵, like it is his favorite thing to do to you. his tongue is absolutely wonderful and skilled, you'll never be disappointed when he gives you head. he'll hold your thighs apart and just bury his mouth deep into you.

- Zeke has fingered you in public before, one time you wore a really nice skirt and he fingered you while his co-workers were in front of you. he definitely does shit like that all the time 😭.

- daddy kink. he loves to hear you call him daddy whenever he fucks you, it drives him to just pound into you harder.

- if you've been a brat or were extra moody towards him.. i pray for your fucking soul. you got pissed at him for coming back a little later than an anticipated, and you gave him an attitude, he grabbed you by your throat and pressed you against the wall. he literally fucked your brains out until 3 a.m. don't ever be a brat around him. you couldn't walk properly after that.

- Zeke will buy you expensive lingerie to wear for him, he loves seeing you in white or baby pink. it makes him think of you as an angel, which is what you are to him 🥰.

- dominate pretty much most of the time, though sometimes he likes when you take control.

- slight degradation? he wouldn't have a huge degrading kink, but he'd call you a slut or say you're a slut for his cock. it's hot tho pls.

- he groans a lot 🥵 he loves when you suck him off or when you ride him, he just loves to feel you around him.

- sometimes he'll have a quickie with you in his office at work, especially when he's had a rough and busy day. he'll lock the door and fuck you against his desk, or he'll have you suck him off. one time someone walked in and you had to hide under the desk, Zeke couldn't even form proper sentences since you were doing it so well.

- he would love to cum inside of you, but he fears pregnancy, there have been a few occasions tho where you asked him to cum in you and he did 👀.

- shower sex happens pretty often between you two, he'll have you pressed against the wall as the water runs down both of your bodies. plus it's an easy clean up.

- dear god i need to read the bible.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot headcanons #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk headcanons #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #zeke jaeger #zeke x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot fanfiction #anime headcanons #aot smut

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nari-nim · 3 years

Text

Treasure legal line kink thoughts

nari note: anyways, so I decided to compile a bunch of my kinky thoughts from my matchmaking hours event. This is a live doc, I’ll be adding and moving things around so lmk if you agree/disagree/have any suggestions

Hyunsuk

Soft dom.

Sensory deprivation - Obsessed with tying you up, or putting a blindfold on you, or using headphones playing the filthiest songs he produced for you to increase the intensity of sex. You look so innocent like that...maybe feeds into a corruption kink here?

Oral fixation - Big on giving. He will eat you out with any chance he gets. He will be so down to spend hours going down on you, lapping at your core, arms wrapping around your thighs, pulling you close, hands helping you arch your lower back, making sure he’s sucking into your favorite pleasure spots, not satisfied until you’re crying out from those good, good orgasms. He also just likes to see your lips wrapped around him, whether it be his cock or fingers, he loves they way your expression changes when he fucks into you or presses his finger against your tongue.

other members under the cut

Jihoon

Hard dom.

Daddy kink - he loves the rush of pleasure and control that surges through him when you follow anything he says with a sweet, “yes, daddy” as you absolutely let him have whatever which way with you. Whether it be him spanking you as he pounds into you so hard, calling you his cumslut as he fills you up or his whore as he squirts all over your face, or when he makes you orgasm over and over again until you are screaming

Strength kink - Hah he basically could cum from the way you grab onto his biceps when he rails you. Also um he loves manhandling so fucking much like he loves the rush of throwing you onto the bed or moving your body in various ways so he hits that spot just right. Loves the way you look up at him, eyes wide, breath caught at your throat and all.

Overstimulation - Oh my god he tries to do this basically every time. Likes to see if he can push the two of you past your usual limit. Likes to fit in at the very least 3 rounds, even it’s supposed to be quick. Experiments with a variety of positions to achieve this, with a strong preference for deepthroating and facefucking. Will want you to sit on his face :)

Begging - he loves it when you to hear you beg. Feeds a little into power kink, daddy kink, and all but he just loves it when you are crying and begging for him uwu

Cum play - Sorry not sorry he loves cumming all over you and smearing it all over so you’re basically covered in him by the end. Likes to see you swallow his cum, so will fuck his cum back into you (if he doesn’t pull out) with his fingers and feed you the mixture of his cum and yours. Likes to cum down your throat or give you a facial if you’re giving him a blowjob. Likes watching his cum slide down your torso if he cums on your boobs and smear it over your stomach for a good measure. Likes how it marks you as his and how much of a mess you look like that

Also into making you cry (:

Yoshi

Soft dom.

Breeding kink - Yoshi loves fucking you raw, cumming into you again and again, seeing him cum roll down your inner thighs, fucking it all back into you again, loving how he continuously fills you up to the brim. He loves hearing you encourage him, asking him to fill you up, telling him how much you love feeling his cum in you. Yoshi also just loves leaving marks all over your body, his favorite would be your inner thighs and upper chest region. He loves the way you just let him do what he wants with you and the way you cave into his touch.

Sir/master kink - not necessarily a daddy kink, I see him more as someone who likes to be addressed with that level of authority in the bedroom which feeds a little into a bit of a praise kink. He knows he’s good and he wants to hear it. It fuels him as he becomes the most perfect service top.

Face sitting - Ohhh, I think he really likes face sitting! Loves hearing the way you are screaming for him as you come undone from on top of him. Loves grabbing at your thighs and ass to control your squirming. Just loves making you feel so good and hearing all of your load moans.

Eye contact - He demands eye contact when he fucks you. Will prioritize positions where he can look into your eyes and see how fucked out you are while pounding into you. Will grab your chin and tilt your face up while you suck him off. Likes the heightened level of intimacy that eye contact gives

Junkyu

Switch with sub lean.

Praise kink - Loves to drawl filthy praises or rasp degradations into your ear turns you on. And honestly, he loves it too. The dom part of him loves to praise you while snapping his hips into you in a fast pace, groaning out how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. Loves slipping his hands into yours as he thrusts into you, moaning your name into your ear and telling you how good you feel, how beautiful you look taking him so well, and just what a good girl you are. He loves praising you when you suck him off extra good, egging you on as you take him again and again, and asking you if you liked that when he rails into you. But also loves it when you compliment him, tell him how well he is doing and how good he’s making you feel and feel the way his cock twitches inside you in response. He’s also pretty vocal, with lots of low moans and whines, so he’ll probably shyly ask you to be kind of loud as well. Nothing boosts his ego like you reversing the attention and telling him how hot he is. He is a sucker for being the best at what he does and wants to hear that from you in particular.

Ice play - Something about the sting of the ice followed by your warm tongue drives Junkyu batshit. The sheer contrast feels so good for him and he will be a moaning mess under you. When giving, he loves to use it especially during oral sex, watching the way you squirm and whine as he teases you before eating you out.

Marking - loves to leave hickeys on you, and for you to leave marks on him but only where the two of you will find it. He’s proud of the bruises on your neck and hip area the next day. In his slightly possessive mindset, likes how that marks you as his and will ward off anyone who even dares looking at you

Breath play - Even if it’s not full on choking, likes for either one of you to wrap your hands on the other’s neck to exert control. Likes the feeling of your delicate neck in his hands and the way your lips part in lust when he wraps his huge hands there...and also likes the full control he places in your hands when you start to squeeze.

Mashiho

Switch with dom lean.

Lingerie kink - oh man is this man into visuals. I think he definitely has a lingerie kink because you? in that sexy thing he got for you? You definitely always have him weak in the knees and horny as hell for nothing.

Edging - mentioned this in my MTL, but yeah Mashiho strikes me as someone who is secretly into this kind of control in bed. Whether he is giving or receiving this treatment, he gets off on the neediness that just continues to build and build and build towards the final release that comes with either one of you screaming, and then not being able to move too much for a few minutes from being way too fucked out. Likes doing this a lot, no matter if he’s subbing or domming

Orgasm control - he would be really, really into controlling when you cum. Likes the rush of power he feels and the way you listen so well to him.

Toys - Would use it more of you than the other way around, but likes to use toys to help him edge you and tease you to make you more and more needy for him

Jaehyuk

Soft dom.

Cum play - likes seeing his cum on your body, likes to smear it around you, fuck it back into you, make you clean it off his fingers. Thinks it’s so fucking hot watching you covered in him

Thigh riding - Um he loves watching you trying to get yourself off on him. A little flattered you would choose to use him like that, but mostly just likes to tease you a little while you are a needy, moaning mess on top of him. Likes to rest a rough hand on your hips while you rut into him, watching your face intently with a sinful expression

Finger sucking - likes to place a few fingers in your mouth and feeling the way your tongue swirls and sucks around him, because it helps him anticipate what’s to come

Body worship - He thinks you are beautiful and will be very vocal about it in bed. Will spend so much time appreciating every part of your body and make sure you are feeling so pleasured the entire time. Type to stand you in front of a mirror and compliment you as his runs his hands over your body, circle your clit, and dips his fingers into you.

Asahi

Switch with no lean.

Bondage kink - Loves tying you up sooooo much oh my god something about the way you look squirming so desperately for him makes him a little lightheaded. He probably won’t mind being tied up either haha. He likes seeing it as a challenge to get out of the restraints and put you in them.

Power exchange - I see him as someone who will dom the shit out of you but also find a lot of fun in giving you the power to see what you would do with it. Loves it when either one of you just gives control to the other and establish that sense of trust as you rail each other uwu

Cumplay - Every time you go to the bathroom to flush out the load he leaves in you after a particularly eventful session, he always makes sure to watch how his cum trails down your thigh, biting his lip as he considers the possibility of yet another round

Cockwarming - Also, he is obsessed with cockwarming oh my god. He also loves the comfort of having your presence in his room as he mixes away at his beats. Once he finishes a part he is satisfied with, he’ll sit you on his lap and help you into his headphones, giving you the warmest back hug as you appreciate the pure talent this man has. Good luck trying to come up with proper feedback as he presses gentle, loving kisses on your shoulder, making you melt at the tenderness of the moment.

#treasure smut #treasure headcanon #treasure hyunsuk smut #treasure jihoon smut #treasure yoshi smut #treasure junkyu smut #treasure mashiho smut #treasure jaehyuk smut #treasure asahi smut #jihoon smut #hyunsuk smut #yoshi smut #junkyu smut #mashiho smut #asahi smut #jaehyuk smut

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Car Repair Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 修车之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 13 August 2021 ]

Beneath the blue skies and white clouds, the meandering road stretches towards the mountaintop, and the roar of the engine is incessant.

A light-hearted melody flows slowly within the car. Since we’ve already heard this song many times, Gavin and I find ourselves humming along to the music softly.

Gavin: Are you tired? I could drive next.

Sitting on the front passenger seat, Gavin turns his head to look at me.

MC: I’m not tired. I’m filled with energy right now~

I shake my head, gripping the steering wheel while my gaze focuses on the front.

Gavin and I had originally planned to go on a vacation in a neighbouring city today. However, sudden changes at work caused my vacation to shrink to half a day...

As such, Gavin suggested that we should change our plans to a drive, and that he’d take me to this mountain route he often drives on.

MC: I’ve already watched you driving down this road a couple of times. I’m more or less familiar with this route.

The corners of my lips curl upwards slightly, feeling the fresh breeze brushing my cheeks, along with the comforting and pleasant sensation it brings.

MC: I can now understand why you like going on a spin here. The feeling of rushing among the mountains feels really carefree.

Hearing this, Gavin’s lips hook into a smile.

Gavin: If you like it, we could come here often next time.

MC: Sure. But I’ll be the one to drive you, okay?

I speak with a teasing tone, and Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: Why not?

While we’re talking and laughing, a strange sound abruptly drifts to our ears. My brows furrow. Gavin also senses the problem.

Gavin: Let’s stop the car.

I nod, bringing the car to the side before stopping.

Gavin walks over to the front of the car, then opens the hood. Bits of sunlight filter through the leaves, casting a mix of light and shadows on his face.

MC: Should I call the insurance company?

Gavin: No need.

Gavin purses his lips slightly, then waves casually.

Gavin: The spark plug just needs to be replaced. This car’s pretty old, and it hasn’t been maintained much. It’s a good time to give it a thorough check.

MC: I see...

I glance at the long mountain road. Even if we were to head down the mountain now, there’s still a great distance between us and the city...

Gavin: It’s fine, there’s no need to worry.

As though seeing through my thoughts, he gives me a smile.

Gavin: There happens to be a shop I’m familiar with nearby. Since we’ve been driving for such a long time, we could head there for a short break too.

Gavin places his warm palm on the top of my head, rubbing it gently.

Gavin: In short, it isn’t a huge problem and we can continue driving. Let’s get in.

Halfway up this secluded mountain, Gavin stations the car outside a shop which looks pretty old. After getting off, what enters our vision is a tightly shut roll-up door.

Gavin: The boss might have headed out.

Gavin calls out the boss’ name several times, but doesn’t receive a response. Instead, the sound of barking drifts over.

MC: This is...

Gavin: It belongs to the boss.

Gavin takes out his phone and dials a number. At the same time, he strides towards a flowerpot at the side, retrieving a key from underneath.

Gavin: I’ve told the boss about our situation. He says we could head into the shop to repair the car ourselves.

MC: Ourselves?

I mumble in slight confusion, watching as Gavin lifts the roll-up door.

Before I can get a clear glimpse of the shop’s interior, a figure leaps out.

??: Woof woof!

A brown puppy circles around Gavin excitedly, nuzzling against him affectionately.

Gavin (voice clip here): Long time no see, Bean Bun.

Gavin squats down, patting its head. Then, he points at me.

Gavin: This is Big Sis MC. Say hello to her.

MC: Nice to meet you, Bean Bun~

I bend down. When Bean Bun sees me, the affectionate energy disappears instantly, and it hides behind Gavin timidly.

MC: ...I’m feeling a sense of déjà vu. Why are these dogs only close to you?

I pout, my tone laced with envy. Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: It’s just a little afraid of strangers. Once it familiarises itself with you, it’d naturally stick to you.

Watching as Gavin carries the puppy up with ease, I can’t help but ask curiously.

MC: Do you come here often?

Gavin: I guess so. I often go on drives on the mountain, and got to know the boss here. I’d drop by occasionally to modify cars with him.

Gavin places Bean Bun down, then gives me a slight smile.

Gavin: That’s why I’m more familiar with this puppy.

After saying this, he gets up and drives the car into the shop. I scan my surroundings in curiosity.

All of a sudden, a few photographs on the horizontally striped wall draw my attention-

The photographs feature customers of the shop with their beloved cars. Stepping closer, I find one figure particularly familiar...

MC: !

MC: Gavin, your photo is here too!

Pleasantly surprised, I point at that photograph. The Gavin in the photograph is even more youthful than he is right now. He’s leaning against the car, his amber eyes filled with unruliness.

This isn’t the only photograph. Next to it, there are several photographs of Gavin checking or fixing cars. However, they appear to be candid shots.

There are occasionally photographs of him looking directly into the camera. His brows are always furrowed slightly, reluctance written all over his face.

Thinking of the reasons why he was forced to have such photos taken, I find myself bursting into laughter.

Gavin: Cough...

An unnatural cough drifts to my ears softly. Without realising it, Gavin has come over to stand behind me.

Gavin: I once learnt how to repair cars from this boss.

He follows my line of sight, sweeping a glance at the photographs while explaining.

Gavin: But he’s very strange. He didn’t ask for fees, but just wanted to take some photographs of me to stick on the wall of the shop... he said that his business would be better this way.

Hearing this, the smile on my face grows even wider.

MC: Looks like this boss has pretty good taste. He knows that he can’t let this dashing “model” slip by~ If only I had such photographs of you...

I say this enviously while scrutinising the photographs on the wall. Gavin stares at the photographs of the youthful version of himself, and seems to understand my words differently.

Gavin: “Such” photographs?

MC: Mm!

Gavin: You could take a few photos later.

In a nonchalant manner, Gavin shifts to stand in front of me, and just so happens to block my line of sight.

Gavin: Stop looking. My skills from back then are far different from what they’re like now.

He arches his brows slightly, taking my hand in his.

While looking at the person in front of me, I find myself laughing aloud. A sudden realisation strikes me.

MC: Wait. You mentioned “car repair skills”... So other than motorcycles, you can repair cars too?

My eyes widen in astonishment.

In these photographs, Gavin is always driving a car. Even though I already knew that he can modify and repair motorcycles, I never thought that four-wheeled vehicles were an easy feat for him too.

Probably due to my exaggerated expression and tone, Gavin chuckles.

Gavin: Why are you so surprised? I had an interest in it, so I tried learning a little. It isn’t anything serious. Although cars and motorcycles are two different types of vehicles, the principles behind repairing them are more or less the same.

Gavin says this calmly while retrieving spare parts for the replacement from a cupboard at the side. I support my chin with a hand, eyes focused on him.

MC: You seem to know everything.

Gavin: That’s an exaggeration. It’s just a hobby.

With a faint smile, he walks towards the car while carrying the tools. When he walks past me, he taps on my cap gently.

Gavin: It won’t take long. It’d be fixed really soon. You can sit at the side and take a break for now.

After saying this, Gavin rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his contoured arm as he uses the tools seriously.

I watch on fixedly, realising that I rarely see this version of him. As such, I smile while shaking my head, moving a chair over and sitting down next to him.

MC: I just want to stay here. This is the first time I’m watching you repair a car for real. I want to protect this best observation spot~

Gavin chuckles softly, and doesn’t insist otherwise.

In the next second, something seems to occur to him. He stops in the midst of opening the hood of the car, then casts a glance at me.

MC: Hm? What’s wrong?

The corners of his lips hook upwards slightly, a gentle light overflowing in his eyes.

Gavin: Erm, MC. Could you help me out?

Hearing Gavin’s suggestion, I nod hurriedly.

MC: Of course I can. How can I help?

Gavin tilts his head crookedly and ponders over this.

Gavin: Could you hand me tools?

MC: Only handing you tools...?

Seeing that I’m slightly disappointed in this task which doesn’t require much skill, Gavin smiles as he grabs a clean apron from the rack and ties it on me.

Gavin: It’s inevitable to get grease on you when repairing cars. You’re dressed really nicely today, so don’t get yourself dirty.

The sudden closeness in proximity causes me to soften my breathing. I cooperate by lifting my hands, then sneak a peek at Gavin from my peripheral vision.

His eyes are lowered, and his expression is serious as he ties the ribbon of the apron into a knot. His warm breaths gently brush against my ear.

I blink and nod, my voice turning soft.

MC: Understood. In that case, I’ll be Officer Gavin’s little assistant today~

I say this with anticipation, and very soon grow accustomed to this new role.

While Gavin changes into his work clothes, I purchase two bottles of iced water from a nearby stall. After returning, the both of us take out the necessary spare parts and tools from a work cabinet.

Just as everything is going smoothly, a crisp sound drifts from the side, as though something has fallen to the ground.

Twisting our heads to look, we realise that Bean Bun, who had been drinking water obediently at the side earlier, has moved over to the car, pawing at the tools on the floor.

Gavin: A spare part probably fell underneath the car.

As though punishing it, Gavin rubs Bean Bun’s head. Then, he leans over to look below the car. He supports himself on the body of the car with one hand, attempting to reach for the spare part which rolled underneath the car.

Looking at his tall frame and the amount of effort he’s exerting, I can’t help but chuckle.

MC: I’ll do it.

Without waiting for Gavin’s response, I squat down, reaching out to feel underneath the car.

Gavin: ...do it slowly.

A large hand is lifted up, carefully protecting my head.

After feeling around the darkness beneath the car, my fingertips suddenly bump into something icy cold.

MC: Got it!

Seeing how happy I look, the corners of Gavin’s lips lift into a smile.

Gavin: Looks like having an ‘assistant’ around is much more convenient.

He takes the spare part from my hand.

Gavin: I’ll have to trouble you again later.

MC: Mm, leave it to me!

Gavin removes his cap. After using a hoisting jack to prop the car up, his movements are nimble as he burrows underneath the car.

In the meanwhile, I tidy up the tools that Bean Bun had messed up earlier. Occasionally, the crisp sound of clanking metal can be heard.

Bean Bun: Woof!

After a moment, I hear a sudden sound.

Turning my head over, I spot Bean Bun wagging its tail, running towards the car.

MC: Wait, Bean Bun!

Worried that it’d disturb Gavin while he’s repairing the car, I attempt to pick it up. However, Bean Bun manages to evade me nimbly again and again.

In the blink of an eye, it slips underneath the car. I hurriedly bend down, looking underneath.

MC: Bean Bun, come here...

My voice abruptly halts, and my line of sight is involuntarily drawn to the image before me-

Gavin is lying on the ground, his gaze focused as he makes replacements to the car.

His head is tilted upwards, revealing his sculpted lower jaw. A droplet of sweat slides off his face, plunging into the collar of his slightly open shirt.

Despite the grease and dirt on Gavin’s face, it does not minimise his dashing spirit at all.

Bean Bun: Woo...

Bean Bun’s bark returns me to my senses. It’s currently lying at the side, looking at Gavin a little pitifully. It’s as though it wants Gavin to play with it.

I wave at Bean Bun, pretending to look stern.

MC: Bean Bun, come here. I’ll give you delicious, delicious food!

Bean Bun: Woo woo...

Gavin: [laughs] It’s okay, he won’t disturb me.

Following the sound and looking over, I realise that Gavin had stopped his work at some point of time, and is currently looking at me with a shining gaze.

My face flushes, and I avert my eyes while using this opportunity to pick Bean Bun up, who is stuck to his side.

MC: Reporting to Officer Gavin - I’ve successfully kept this Little Rascal under control!

My dead seriousness tickles Gavin to laughter. He plays with Bean Bun while it’s in my arms.

Gavin: Mm, not bad. My assistant is indeed competent.

After this, he continues with the work on hand, just that the smile at the corners of his lips curls at a greater angle than before.

Gavin: MC, stay here and talk to me.

MC: Mm, sure~

I blink, then retrieve a small electronic fan from my bag at the side. I point it towards Gavin, wanting him to feel a little more comfortable.

Gavin: Come to think of it, do you know why I wanted to learn how to repair cars?

I look at him with curiosity, and Gavin continues.

Gavin: When driving, I’m the first person who can understand the overall situation of the car. To me, fixing the car myself is most convenient. Also, I can make detailed adjustments based on my own preferences. It takes a little more time, but the process is very interesting.

Gavin’s tone is gentle as he speaks, the corners of his lips lifting involuntarily.

Seeing the bright lights in his eyes, I feel a certain part of my heart being stirred.

MC: So that’s the reason why you like modifying and adding new coats of paint to vehicles? I know how that feels.

I nod while chuckling softly.

MC: Whenever I finished my handcrafts in the past, I’d draw all sorts of doodles on them... It was akin to leaving a mark belonging exclusively to me on the things that I liked.

I mumble to myself, not noticing that Gavin has paused in his movements. After a moment, he slides out smoothly from underneath the car.

Warm yellow sunlight lands on Gavin’s face, smoothening his sharp edges.

My heart stirs slightly. Supporting my hands on my kneecaps, I bend over to ask him a question.

MC: Are you done repairing it?

Beneath the mottled light, Gavin lifts his eyes to look at me, arching his brows.

Gavin: Not yet. There’s still the final step. I’ll need your help.

He pulls me over to him. Amid the hot and dry air in the surroundings, Gavin’s scent and the smell of engine oil blend together.

Gavin places a tool in my hand. Together, we screw the spare part I had picked up earlier.

Gavin: Done.

His scorching breaths land on the nape of my neck. I turn my head, watching as a large patch of sunlight spills on Gavin’s back.

Scattered dust floats in the air, reminiscent of mayflies as they land on the car, which has already been covered with a layer of dust.

The person in front of me has a bright and clear smile which is even more dazzling than sunlight. I blink gently, tugging on Gavin’s hand and swinging it to and fro.

MC: Gavin, there’s something else I might be able to help you with.

“Splash...”

I retrieve a towel from the pail, leaning over and meticulously wiping the car which has already been rinsed once.

In the next moment, Gavin stands behind me, grabbing my hand.

Gavin: It’s best to start from the roof of the car. That way, we wouldn’t have to wipe and wash it again. Like this.

MC: Mm...

I cooperate, standing on my tiptoes. Due to our difference in height, I find it a little strenuous.

Gavin: [laughs] Let me do it.

While saying this, Gavin takes the towel from my hand.

I nod and turn around. Only then do I realise that we’re only a finger away from each other.

Stray hairs on his forehead sweep against the tip of my nose, and I can see each one of his eyelashes distinctly.

Warmth climbs up my cheeks gradually. Just as I plan to slip out of this tiny space, my wrist is suddenly tugged on.

MC: A-aren’t you washing the roof of the car...

Lifting my head, I see an imperceptible smile flashing past his eyes.

Gavin: Before washing it, I have to ask for a “reward” from my little assistant.

After saying this, he leans down, cupping a hand against my ear.

Then, he leaves a gentle kiss on my lips.

I hold my breath. The only thing I can feel is my slightly increased heart rate.

On this scorching summer afternoon, the whirring fan moves continuously, and the sunlight along the horizon turns from a dazzling gold into a warm yellow.

Without even realising it, we’ve already wiped off all the soap bubbles on the car, and the body of the car is as shiny as the surface of a mirror.

MC: Done! Is Officer Gavin satisfied with this little assistant’s performance?

I turn my head towards Gavin excitedly. When I see the white soap bubbles on his face, I laugh aloud.

Gavin: What is it?

Under Gavin’s confused gaze, I turn the sprinkler to the lowest level, then head over to Gavin.

MC: Don’t move.

I dab some water on my hand, wanting to brush off the soap bubbles on his face.

MC: Gavin, squat down a little.

Gavin: Mm, okay.

Gavin nods in understanding. Following my instructions, he bends down. In an instant, his sculpted face draws close to me.

Beneath the gem-like and dazzling sunlight, the beads of sweat on his skin reflect light, causing me to be slightly engrossed in the sight.

I brush off the soap bubbles on his face gently. A damp yet soft sensation drifts from my fingertips. Gavin’s eyelashes quiver slightly at the touch.

Gavin: ...are you done?

I turn my head, realising that the tips of Gavin’s ears have turned an unnatural red.

MC: ...nope. There’s still a little bit on your nose.

Suppressing my laughter, I continue caressing his outline, deliberately leaning in closer.

Gavin’s breathing seems to become heavier. His eyelashes quiver slightly, before his eyes open right in front of me.

Gavin: [breathing noises] ...

Our breaths mingle with the heat waves of midsummer, and our eyes reflect each other’s faces clearly.

After a short while, Gavin seems to react. His lips move, as though he’s about to say something. However, two crisp barks interrupt him.

Bean Bun: Woof! Woof!

Bean Bun, who has been neglected by us, releases unhappy sounds of protest. It hops up continuously, pawing against Gavin’s leg.

MC: Sorry sorry, we seem to keep forgetting you today.

Lowering my head, I pat Bean Bun’s head.

Gavin: [sighs] ...

As though not wanting my attention to continue getting diverted by the puppy, Gavin suddenly carries me in one swoop, placing me on the car as he looks directly at me.

Gavin: I haven’t answered your question from earlier.

MC: Huh?

Gavin leans in close. I have a clear view of the smile overflowing in his amber eyes...

Gavin: I’m very satisfied with the “little assistant’s” performance today.

The faint scent of sweat and the fragrance of soap meld into my breaths. Only after listening to him do I recall the question which was interrupted earlier.

Despite the smile surfacing on my face, I pretend to be dissatisfied while speaking.

MC: Is that all? Officer Gavin’s assessment seems a little superficial.

Gavin laughs. He lowers his head to nuzzle the tip of my nose while he continues.

Gavin: This is how satisfied I am.

After a long while, he draws away from me slightly. With an upward tilt of his lips, he reaches out to leave white soap bubbles on the tip of my nose.

Gavin: [laughs] ...there you go. Now, the both of us have soap bubbles on our faces.

Watching as the smile deepens on his lips, I’m in a daze for a few seconds. Then, I recall how I had toyed with him earlier.

MC: Gavin, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?

Gavin: Mm, this is a counterattack.

Gavin admits it with ease.

MC: I didn’t expect Officer Gavin to launch such a childish counterattack.

I can’t help but laugh. Gavin looks at me, happy warmth reflecting in his clean and clear eyes.

He lowers his head, leaning his forehead against mine affectionately.

Gavin: MC, what you said earlier was very accurate. When there’s something I like, I’d want to leave my exclusive mark on it.

With his gaze, Gavin traces the contours of my face. Along with the warm breeze, his tender words land in my ears clearly.

Gavin: Which is why, over here...

He tilts my chin upwards gently, his voice softening.

Gavin: Let me leave a mark.

The scent belonging exclusively to Gavin wafts over. A soft sensation seals my lips shut.

MC: Mm...

Without giving me any time to react, Gavin rolls my breaths in between my lips and teeth in an overbearing manner.

The sound of disordered breaths dissipate at my ears. I support myself weakly on Gavin’s arms, feeling as though the temperature of my surroundings is rising.

After an unknown period of time, Gavin releases his hold on me. His arms remain tightly wrapped around my waist.

I pant slightly, allowing my breathing to regain some composure. As though I’m unwilling to admit defeat, I lean over towards him, giving him a light peck on his chin.

MC: ...Gavin, me too.

I stare at Gavin, my fingers caressing his outline before sliding down slowly, stopping at his chest.

MC: On you and your heart... I want to leave even more marks belonging exclusively to me.

The light in Gavin’s eyes stir for a moment. Then, he brushes aside the hairs on my face, pressing his lips to my forehead.

Gavin: MC.

I hear him calling my name.

Gavin: Actually, you already did that since a very long time ago. You did it effortlessly.

Reminiscent of a gust of summer breeze, his voice brushes my heart, filling it with a sweet emotion.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the mingling of our interlaced breaths as they melt into the rapidly increasing temperature of the surroundings...

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle from Officer Gavin!

Gavin: Sure. MC’s private lessons will begin next week.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Can we drive down different routes next time?

Gavin: Sure. Until you have your heart’s content.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Sparky: I’ve fallen out of favour.jpg

Gavin: It’s okay, I’ll coax it when we get back.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

💧 Phone calls: First l Second

💧 Translated comic based on this date: here

💧 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #THIS IS SO WHOLESOME AND BEAUTIFUL AND HAFEWJKNDE

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taetaespeaches · 3 years

Text

“When I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean.”

yoongi x reader (oc)

genre: fluff; smut (just barely at the end)

word count: 2.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! It’s Yoongi day!!!! This is the night Yoongi starts working on People for his mixtape and he and Kid/reader have a long conversation about life, people, and the meaning of everything. Idek if the conversations make full sense but that’s kind of what I like about them, these two are just bullshitting and getting to know each other even more and I think it’s sweet. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

And happy birthday to our favorite honey boy 🍯💛

Seated on Yoongi’s studio couch, your eyes scanned over the words of the paperback novel in your hands as the sounds of the beats from the man’s computer started and stopped at random, filling the room with evidence of his genius and artistry. As you turned the page, the man sat back against his chair with a small huff, your gaze lifting from the book to your boyfriend.

You waited a moment, seeing if he was going to initiate conversation or if he was simply taking a quick moment to himself. However, when his head turned to peer behind him, sneaking a glance at you, you couldn’t help the upward curve of your lips.

“Hey,” he chuckled lightly, your smile growing.

“What’s up, Honey Boy?”

He appeared bashful, as if he was embarrassed and almost guilty for interrupting your reading. Lowering the book to the cushion next to you, holding your place with your finger, you cocked your head.

“Would you mind giving this a listen real quick?” He asked shyly, your eyes widening in slight surprise. Yoongi asking for your opinion on his music wasn’t new or even rare, but the tentativeness in his demeanor certainly was. The man could be bashful when sharing his work, but rarely hesitant.

Nodding at him, he sat back up and pressed play on the track. It was different than anything he’d ever shown you before, the slow melodic flow of the song, paired with interesting xylophone-type of sound, immediately capturing you. Your eyebrows pulling together as you listened, a focus overtaking you.

It was just the instrumental, but it felt comforting; calming.

“This is from,” he thought out loud, “2016 probably.”

“It’s amazing, Yoon,” you complimented sincerely. “I’m actually kind of offended you’ve had this all this time just hiding in your hard drive,” you teased with a smile, Yoongi chuckling as he spun his chair around to face you.

“You think I should use it for the mixtape?” He asked, already knowing he should, but seeking your opinion anyway.

“Definitely,” you told him as you lifted the book, only to fold the corner of the page down. Dropping the novel onto the couch, you stood and easily approached the man, his gaze following you intently as you neared him. Leaning against his desk, Yoongi spun in his chair so he continued to face you. “It’s really good.”

Giving you a single appreciative nod, he held back a grin. “Thank you,” he whispered, the shyness in his gratitude adorable, making you smile. “I love your smile,” he told you suddenly, a small breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly, trying to brush over the compliment, feeling bashful under his gaze. You both simply stared at one another, both of your minds trying to decipher each other’s expressions.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked you, clueless as to what was going on in your mind, but knowing there was something weighing on it.

With a small sigh, you flashed him a small smile. “Do you think I’m a good person?” You asked him, the man’s eyebrows pulling together.

“I do,” he replied simply, though his expression remained the same. “Why?”

“I saw an old friend today,” you told him as you lifted yourself onto the desk so you were seated atop it, your feet dangling above the floor.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hands coming to rest on your knees.

“She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her,” you continued. “We used to be so close in school and now, it’s like I hardly know her,” you told him, the fragility of your voice apparent to your own ears, so you knew Yoongi heard it too. “She has a baby I had no idea about.”

Yoongi stared at you thoughtfully, locking his eyes with yours, a rare occurrence for him. “Why is that making you concerned about your goodness as a person?”

“I just-” you paused thoughtfully. “I let that relationship fade away. You know, I was the one who stopped communicating, I was the one who cancelled plans, I just pulled away and withdrew.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human,” he informed you, his thumbs soothing along the insides of your thighs, just above your knee caps. “People change.”

Nodding in understanding, you directed a small tight smile at him. “You know, as happy as I am with my life and the people in it,” you scrunched your nose, poking his hand with your finger to emphasize his important role among those people, Yoongi letting a small smile grace his features, “I feel nostalgic for something,” you finished. Lifting his hand from your leg, he wrapped it around your own hand, holding it comfortingly in his grasp. His palm was as warm as his considerate gaze, and you realized for the hundredth time that Yoongi was warmth embodied. “Does everyone feel like this or is there something wrong with me?” You scoffed lightly at yourself.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He teased, making a small giggle leave your lips as you softly jerked your knee up to bump his arm in light-hearted complaint. “I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think I miss the person I was before,” he looked around the studio, “you know, all this,” he admitted, referring to his career.

Leaning toward him, you listened intently, your orbs scanning his features as he pondered over the thoughts within his mind.

“Maybe not even the person, but the life,” he elaborated, you humming in understanding.

“Do you find that it was a simpler time?” You asked, intrigued by his words.

“Not so much simpler but just different, I guess,” he thought out loud. “It feels like I sacrificed the ordinary for the extraordinary,” he added, latching his gaze onto your legs as you stared down at him. “And now the ordinary becomes extraordinary,” he said, lowering his chin to your knees as his fingers picked at the fraying around the hole in your jeans.

Your free hand that wasn’t being held by his found its way to his hair, your fingers digging into his soft strands.

“I sound ungrateful,” he chuckled dryly against your legs, you shaking your head despite him not seeing it, his eyes still glued to the hole in your clothing.

“No, just human,” you spoke up. “It’s natural to long for those realities that belong to some but not to us,” you assured him, the man rotating his face so his cheek rested against your leg, his orbs gazing up at you.

“People dream of having my life though,” he mumbled, his lips slightly pouted making him look precious despite the negative thoughts swirling around his head and leaving that adorable pout. “And here I am just wishing I could walk down the street without a care in the world,” he smiled a bit. “Am I even a good person? I feel greedy.”

Brushing your fingers through his hair, you pouted, watching him for a moment before responding. “I’m biased, but I think you are.”

“You sure?” He quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes that made you smile as a breathy chuckle left your lips.

“You’re a good person, Yoongi, I won’t have you thinking otherwise,” you insisted with a glare, Yoongi’s lips curving into a grin in response.

“My life isn’t any more special than anyone else’s,” he suddenly decided. “Just different.”

Nodding at him, you agreed. “You’re just a person.” Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, preparing to tease you for the lackluster conclusion, your mouth already shaping into a knowing smile. “But my favorite person,” you added. “So that’s something.”

Placing a kiss to your jean adorned knee, he grinned. “It’s everything.”

“I think it has meaning,” you noted, your and Yoongi’s conversation taking several different paths throughout the past forty-five minutes or so. You were now talking about the meaning of life, and whether there was a meaning at all. “I just don’t know what,” you added with a shy smile.

Yoongi’s gummy grin beamed up at you as he squeezed your thigh playfully. “I go back and forth. Like, we’re here by chance, right? Maybe life is no deeper than that,” he explained, you nodding in understanding. “But also, I found music and BTS, and here I am with you, and all of that feels meaningful,” he added thoughtfully.

“Do you believe in fate?” You questioned curiously.

“Maybe,” he responded, his voice sliding up slightly in pitch.

“I find myself thinking that same thing. Like maybe we don’t have a purpose as living beings except to just, be here, and live. And maybe it’s the people we know and the experiences we have that give it all meaning,” you thought aloud, Yoongi humming as he peered up at you.

“Yeah, I like that,” he settled with a small close-mouthed smile that pushed his fluffy cheeks up adorably. Moving your hand from his hair, you poked his cheek, Yoongi giving you a feigned grimace in reply.

“Ok, so question for you,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes widening in anticipation. “If your life wasn’t so extraordinary, what would you do?”

“Like, without the fame?” He asked.

“Yeah, let’s say for a day, no one knew who Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D was, what would you do?” You asked with a small smile, feeling giddy to hear his answer.

“I would take you out on the most normal run of the mill date,” he answered easily.

“That’s what you’d do?!” You asked in disbelief, Yoongi smiling cutely. “What like to the movies?”

“To the movies and to dinner and to get ice cream and we’d walk around Seoul without a care in the world about who could see us,” he grinned.

“We’ve done all those things though,” you pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, we have our spots that feel safe, and we venture out on occasion, but we could go anywhere without the stress of being seen,” he explained. “No worries, just us.”

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed his hair off his forehead gently. “I didn’t realize you had so much stress when we go out,” you noted, a softness evident in your tone.

“I’m just- hyperaware,” he clarified.

“Would you hold my hand in the street, Honey Boy?” You asked with a wide grin, Yoongi chuckling at you.

“I wouldn’t let go of your hand,” he told you, his thumb running along the side of your hand as he spoke the words. “You know what else I would do?” He asked happily.

“What?” You whispered through your beaming grin.

“I’d kiss you in front of everyone,” he returned your smile. “And I’d post a cheesy photo of us on my pubic instagram to brag about how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, Yoongi giggling as his chin rested on top of your knee.

“It would be nice,” he hummed thoughtfully, as if he was losing himself in a day dream where he could live so carelessly.

Moving your hand to the side of his face, you pulled his attention back to you as you cocked your head at him and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” you stared to sing playfully, Yoongi dropping his forehead to your knee as he laughed at you.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked back up to you with his gummy grin, his eyes bright and full of adoration. “I love that song,” he noted, you giggling.

“Me too,” you replied in a whisper.

A pause in the conversation took place as Yoongi’s eyes scanned over your features, yours following the movement of his gaze. When his eyes met yours, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk and stood in front of you, his hands finding your waist as his face hovered close to yours.

Placing a kiss to the side of your mouth, you breathed out slowly, the intimacy between you both blossoming more stunningly than it ever had before.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as your hands found his neck, your fingers greedily but gently exploring the soft skin of his neck and jaw, grazing over his throat.

“I love you too,” you told him. “Forever.”

Pressing your lips to his, he brought his body as close to yours as he could, wanting you as close as possible. As he deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in synchronization with his own, his hands found the bottom of your shirt.

Tugging up, you removed your hands from him to allow him to pull the clothing from your frame. Dropping the shirt onto the desk next to your bodies, his eyes glanced down at your chest to see the flimsy lace bra. As one of his hands moved behind you to feel your back, sliding down to grasp the top of your ass, he dragged the finger of his opposite hand along the edge of your bra cup.

“What does forever mean?” He suddenly asked in a low timbre, just before pressing a lingering peck to your mouth. “You never know what the future holds,” he said realistically, though his tone was still seductive and light.

“I think the intent behind the word is what matters,” you told him, trailing kisses along his neck, Yoongi tilting his head to the side to allow you more access. “What a person feels when they speak the word.”

“So what do you feel? What do you mean when you say forever?” He questioned, your head raising to look him in the eyes.

Scooting off the desk, you stood in front of Yoongi, your gaze locked on his. “When I say forever,” you started, your hands finding the sides of his face as his held your waist. “I mean it literally. For always, evermore, in this lifetime and the next. Maybe even past lifetimes. The future is unpredictable, but when I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean,” you assured him as the man stared at you with a surety you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before.

Leaning in to kiss him again, you began pushing him backward, you both stumbling as he bumped into the chair. Your lips curved upward into the kiss, you both chuckling as you continued your clumsy ministrations.

Finding your way to the couch, you dropped onto it, sliding across it so you could recline, Yoongi standing above you watching you intently. As you stared up at him with a smirk, he shed himself of his shirt. Crawling atop you, your hands grabbed onto his hips, your fingers digging underneath the waistband.

He kissed you passionately, pouring his feelings and emotions into the action, causing you to moan, the sound melting against the man’s mouth, making him smirk. Sitting up on his knees, he undid the zipper on his own jeans before reaching for your own. His eyes left your legs for just a moment as he reached for the book shoved against the back of the sofa.

“This any good?” He asked, you quirking your eyebrow.

“It is, want me to read it to you?” You asked, Yoongi scoffing as he tossed it onto the table, you giggled as he went back to pulling your clothes from your body.

As he removed his clothing, you reached for your bag on the floor next to you, pulling a condom out, Yoongi smirking at you.

Once your clothing was removed, giggles flooding the room as you both struggled to wiggle out of your jeans and your bra flung somewhere across the studio, it was a matter of seconds until his skin was against yours, your body caged by his arms.

He kissed you passionately, a hand on your waist as his other arm supported his weight over you. Slipping inside you, you groaned out at the sensation, Yoongi breathing lowly at the feeling of you.

As you clasped a leg around his, your hand grasping at his ass, he placed delicate kisses across you face, giving special attention to your cheeks as he began dragging his hips.

“I love you,” he whispered before pushing his mouth to yours, swallowing your breaths and whimpers. He moved slowly, savoring every moment of being together, wanting this night to last, forever.

Your hands clutched his back, clinging to him as he moved in and out of you with a passionate force that had you moaning out near his ear. And he reveled in your sounds, knowing he was the cause, knowing you were his. Forever.

Leaving a kiss to his earlobe, you confessed your love for him once more. And then again. And again.

“Forever,” you repeated, the word coated in intention and meaning. You’d be loving him forever.

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justsomeclintasha · 2 years

Text

(Early Shield Days)

Shaking snowflakes from her hair, she steps inside. The coffee shop smells like cinnamon and vanilla. A fire crackles in the corner. Clint’s fingers press lightly into the small of her back. To anyone else they would look like a couple, but she knows he’s reading her reactions. She doesn’t shrug him off.

No one familiar is here- no black uniforms, no official logos. It’s less suffocating than Headquarters. She’s glad to have been let out, even if it’s with supervision. There are only two other patrons. An elderly man plays chess with a child near the window. The pieces thunk in a soft rhythm.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Black coffee.”

“You don’t even like black coffee.”

“Then order me what I like,” she replies with a shrug, letting her eyes linger for just a moment on the desserts behind the counter before looking away.

“Two peppermint mochas and a slice of chocolate cake please.” He pays and adjusts the laptop under his arm as they wait.

“Go get a table and I’ll bring it. I won’t freak out.” Picking a leather chair in the corner, he opens his laptop and glances her way. She refrains from rolling her eyes.

“So what is a peppermint mocha?” She asks, sinking into the seat across from him. The steam indicates the drinks are probably much too hot, but he reaches for his immediately.

“Let it cool down and find out. Try your cake in the meantime.”

“You ordered it.”

“For you.”

“Why?”

“Because you like chocolate and I thought you might want it.”

“Will you share it with me?”

“Why?” he counters, but it’s not rude.

“Because I never had anything to share before,” she admits.

“I’d love to.” He taps his piece lightly against hers in a mock toast and they taste it together. The icing melts in her mouth. “Good, right? Wait til you try the drink. Should be okay now.” Carefully, she sips it, the warmth spreading right to her soul. It’s heavenly. She sighs.

“This is the best drink I’ve ever had.” The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement as he types. She settles comfortably into the chair. Her eyes drift over to the chess game. The boy is smart. He seems to anticipate his grandfather’s moves three rounds ahead.

She closes her eyes and leans against the window. The glass is cool against her forehead. She wishes she had a blanket and almost laughs at the thought.

Soon the bell on the door chimes. They’re the only ones left in the cafe. The fire pops. She could fall asleep here.

“Nat? You ready to go home?” He nudges her leg and she blinks her eyes open. She can tell time has passed but she’s not sure how much. Her cheeks are warm.

“Yeah.” It’s dark now. Snow flurries are still falling lightly. They walk slowly, Shield headquarters coming into view. She pauses. Silence falls around them and she lets out a breath, visible in the cold. “It doesn’t feel like home yet.”

He steps beside her. One arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans in, letting herself give into his hug for a brief moment as her world stills.

“It will.”

#clintasha #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff

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heauxzenji · 4 years

Note

How about an NSWF alphabet for Miya Osamu?

Hi Nonny! I hope you enjoy this- I know it was a long time coming but I had a lot of feelings and just wanted to make sure this was as perfect as could be 💖

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Miya

gn!Reader focused

obvs nsfw under the cut... Let’s gooooo!

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Ok, it’s not that you’re not going to get ANYTHING, but you’re not going to get a lot. He will definitely clean you up, hold you in his arms, and cover all the basics, but the man is also going to be napping so you have about 5 minutes of his absolute attention once you’re done.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

Is an ass/thighs man at his simplest. Will 100% also do the “let me get past you” thing where he holds your hips as he moves.

Your favorite feature of his is his back/shoulders. They’re so broad, and watching him flex his back muscles makes you clench. Also- your phone’s home screen is definitely a picture of his back riddled in your scratch marks.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Likes to do so on/in/around your mouth. He has an oral fixation, bonus points if you do too tbh. If he isn’t going to cum on your face, he’ll definitely cum inside of you instead, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so that you can suck them.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Would 10000% cuck his brother if given the opportunity. Just to see the color drain from his face. He’s kind of a shithead for that but at the same time, it’s not something he’s ever said out loud- so he’s chilling and just sitting on that.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

He’s reserved, but I would say he has a decent amount of experience. He knows what to do, and he knows what he likes. I feel like he also is less experimental- preferring to stick to what he knows works for you both. He’ll try new things, but sparingly.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He likes to be ridden. He likes to have you on full display from all ends as you bounce on his cock. He can easily grip your waist and thrust you further down onto him, and loves watching you practically impale yourself on his length. Also likes to rub circles into your thighs or lower spread your asscheeks apart as he helps you keep a rhythm on his cock.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

He’s much more serious during, but afterward it’s very lighthearted.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It’s neat. He doesn’t really trim much, but his hair isn’t super hard to manage, surprisingly. He’s not as hairy around his chest/torso either, but he does have a happy trail that he shaves fairly often, even though you think it would be nicer if he didn’t.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

He’s not conventionally romantic, but he does savor the moment with you. He likes to gaze into your eyes while he’s taking you, and will place soft kisses to your hairline and jaw when he’s getting close to finishing.

Will murmur that you’re wonderful/amazing/beautiful, or whatever compliment comes to mind first when he’s finished with you and ready for his cuddles

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

He doesn’t much- honestly the frequency varies depending on his stress levels. When he does though, he’s the classic shower jerk off guy. It’s cleaner and honestly a lot quicker for him to finish that way. Definitely will be more aggressive when he’s more stressed as well, whether you’re there or not. He is a fan of mutual masturbation as foreplay.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

MARKING, loves leaving hickeys and bruises. He doesn’t care if anyone can see them, or how many you have by the time it’s over. He gets so entranced that he doesn’t realize how many he leaves behind Biting goes hand in hand with the marking- definitely has an oral fixation.

Size, bc he’s so broad. He likes the feeling of being bigger than you because he feels like he’s your protector- but he also likes the feeling of stuffing your much tinier frame so full of his cock that you go stupid.

Dirty Talk, not super degrading dirty talk, but things like calling you “dirty” or “messy”- and especially “sloppy” really get him going. He also just likes to hear you beg for him, so he’ll egg you on and ask you if you like how deep he’s fucking you or if your tiny little hole can fit all of his cock inside. Again, size kink, so he loves calling you little/tiny.

Temperature Play, specifically with the cold. Will eat ice prior to going down on you, or change the blistering hot water to icy cold when you’re having sex in the shower, just to see the shock on your face at the difference in sensation

Sensory Deprivation, blindfolds? He said say less. He likes watching you writhe in anticipation as you feel him ghost touches and kisses all over your body. And it also drives you crazy waiting for him to strike- it usually leaves you begging for him to touch him.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Primarily bedroom only, but he has been known to have quickies in the restaurant with you after closing, and also loves getting road head.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Osamu likes to hear you. Likes to know what he’s making you feel good, and the moans you make encourage him to keep going. Definitely also motivated by begging. He’s a little smug, so it inflates his ego that you’re begging him to tear you apart- it’s the feeling of knowing that his cock makes you absolutely drunk and you’ll do anything for it.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

I don’t think he’s into food play! Not that he would NEVER do it, but it’s really not something he’s super into. Food is kind of his art form if that makes sense… it’s also work and he definitely seems like the type to try and keep his work separate from his personal life to an extent . But you have fucked in the restaurant at closing too many times to count.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

He’s very good with his mouth. He has an oral fixation so this comes naturally. He could go down on you forever if you let him, and he won’t stop even if his jaw locks up. If you’re going down on him, sometimes he will get a little ahead of himself and fuck your face just a little. Most of the time he catches himself and will apologize for not warning you first… most of the time.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It differs! He personally loves the buildup of having a slow burning session, but there are times- especially when he’s frustrated, where he can just take it out on you. And when he does need you for stress relief, you should go ahead and cancel any plans you have for the next 2 days or so, because you’re not going to make it.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He’s not fond of them, but he’s also not against them. For him, he’d rather use them as foreplay, or something to hold you both over until you’re alone and he can really have you the way he wants you.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Is into semi-public sex for sure. Things where he knows you won’t possibly get caught- but there’s that inkling of a chance that you could get caught are his favorite. He’ll also give in if you just can’t wait… but he really tries to restrain himself. It’s a little bit less so when he’s been drinking though- he’s much more likely to let you escalate things and will probably go as far as some clothed sex with you if it’s dark/crowded enough that no one will notice or see

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Can go about 2 rounds max in a day, but they’re long... When he says he wants to spend the day in bed, he means the whole day. Everything he does is about the sensuality of it all. He loves foreplay, it’s the perfect warmup to the main event for him. The main event itself... can go for hours tbh. He’s literally a slow burn loving bitch, but when you beg for him, he’ll waste no time absolutely destroying your walls. Needs a longer break in between rounds for snacks so he can keep his energy up.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

Not too fond of them. Prefers to get you off using his own body. But he’s not against things like silks to use as restraints, and he does own a flogger that he likes to drag along your body when you’re blindfolded.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Osamu himself IS the tease. He’s always so calm and collected, even when you’re all over him, begging for him to bend you over and wreck you. It’s that calm and control in itself that’s a tease because you know that once he gives in, you and your insides are done for.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Not loud, but not quiet either. His voice literally goes an octave lower which is insane. He holds back his moans in the beginning, instead he pushes air out of his mouth and takes more sharp, hissing inhales. But when he’s close he’ll lean into your ear to spew absolute filth into it so that he can feel you clench around his cock and send him over the edge

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has an Onlyfans but he makes sure his face is never in the camera. Camboy!Osamu is literally in their top 8% of creators and no one knows about it because he’s just that good at flying under the radar... but hey, that’s how he was able to afford the restaurant- so now he slings dick and onigiri. Win-Win.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

Isn’t as thick as Atsumu, but he is more veiny and honestly all around prettier. His dick is probably also a good 7 inches, but I feel like he’s a grower, so you’d be surprised at how much he’s really working with. He has a freckle on the shaft, which is very adorable and endearing. He has a pretty dick. Like, aesthetically beautiful... it’s much prettier than Atsumu’s- much neater/more cleaned up too.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Never lets on just how much he wants you. He would rather have you come to him instead so he doesn’t look needy. But he wants to be balls deep in you practically all the time. He just is very prideful, so he’s going to wait for you to come to him- which… tbh you always do.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

Yeah, you have about 5 minutes after he cums to get anything out of him- bc he’s taking his ass to sleep. But that’s an advantage For you because he’s kinda delirious and will say yes to anything you ask him for… Is also a clingy sleeper so would definitely hold onto you and make you his little spoon.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq headcanon #hq smut #hq x reader #hq x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader

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gorepity · 3 years

Text

I’m not really a Eren simp but I like this one

Warnings: Rope bunny, Ice play, Edging, Oral (f receiving) 18+

ATTACK ON TITAN SMUT/EREN YEAGER unedited, sorry for typos

Word count: 1134

"I bet you feel helpless huh? Naked, all tied up and blindfolded with no where to run? I actually think you like being my little rope bunny" Eren spoke softly in your ear as his body hovered over yours. The calmness in his voice made your pussy clench, the anticipation was killing you slowly each time he opened his mouth.

He continues "Your probably wondering what I'm going to do to you, your probably wondering how you got to where you are now, or maybe your wondering why you even came here in the first place.

His knee presses in between your crotch, purposely moving it around, causing friction against your pussy. Your little whimpers are enough for him to know your enjoying this.

"Do you regret being with me y/n?"

You shake your head no unable to speak hence he also has ball gag around your mouth.

He sighs "Good" then places a kiss on your forehead.

He continues to grind his knee against your pussy, as he's entertained by seeing you try and get yourself off by moving your hips.

He chuckles and he stops what he's doing, moving his knee away from you.

You mentally roll your eyes, Seriously?

"You wanna have some fun?" He asks, more mischievous than ever.

You hesitantly nod, sceptical of what type of "fun" he's talking about.

Weight was lifted from the bed indicating that he had gotten off. You just laid there impatiently, heart beating out your chest.

"What I'm going to do you might not like, or maybe you will...who knows, we'll just have to find out" you hear him state from a distance.

Now you were extremely nervous, thinking about the stuff he could possibly do to you.

He's footsteps start to walk closer to the bed you were tied up in. As you hear him place something down on the nightstand beside you, your curiosity rose.

He climbs back over your body, this time removing the ball gag from your mouth. You sigh out of relief, moving your aching jaw around.

"I'll keep the gag off of you, I know it must hurt having it in your mouth for a long time"

"Thank you" you whisper

His hands then decide to rome your body, feeling how soft your skin against his palms.

He then decides to grope your breast, his fingers pinching and teasing your delicate nipples.

Your body jerks at the sudden pleasure rushing to your pussy as he continues to toy with you.

Little whimpers start slowly escaping your mouth earning a chuckle from the brown haired boy.

"Are you ready?"

You nod desperately just wanting to get on with it. He lightly slaps your breasts "Use your words" you let out a shaky breath "Yes"

"First I need you to relax, you're body's too tense"

"Okay" you inhaled for five then exhaled for a next five, you did this three times till your mind and body I was fully relaxed.

"Are you relaxed?" He asks grabbing an ice cube from out the ice bucket.

"Yes"

"Alright" was the last thing he said before you felt a freezing cold sensation on your left nipple. Your let out a loud gasp as your body jumped from the sudden temperature change.

He circulates the ice around your perky nipple slowly moving onto the next one. You try to escape by moving your body around but obviously it's no use.

"How does it feel?"

"Cold!" you whine while furrowing your eyebrows.

Removing the ice from your nipples, he slowly glides it down your stomach all the way to your sex.

He forcefully opens your legs wider putting you in a more lewd position. His fingers then presses against your clit, slowly rubbing it.

"You okay?"

You nod while grinding your hips at the pace his going.

"You want me to add a finger inside you?"

"Yes please"

He obeys adding his bony finger inside you, finger fucking you slowly.

"So wet already and I barely did anything to you" he whispers to himself.

"Eren?" you moan

"Yes?"

"Faster please"

Obeying again he rubs your clit vigorously while pumping you faster, You grind your hips more as you feel your core tighten.

Already gonna cum?

Eren notices and quickly stops what he's doing, leaving you aching for more. "Why'd you stop?" You complain still desperately grinding your hips, trying to feel something.

He doesn't respond, instead he grabs the ice cube, and rubs it up and down your throbbing slit.

"Oh my- Eren!" Instantly you shut your legs close, your lips quiver as your upper body goes stiff.

"Open your legs" he commands

"But it's cold-"

"Open. Your. Legs" his voice was stern and dark which turned you on even more. You hesitantly opened them back up.

"Good girl, now just relax"

He continues to drag the ice against your slit, the coldness making your pussy twitch like crazy. Your whimpers are the only sound coming from the room as you squirm around trying your hardest not to close your legs.

It's too cold

"Do you think you can cum like this?"

What do you think?

"No!" You semi yelled already getting tired of his teasing.

"How about this?" He asks before shoving the whole ice cube inside your hole. You gasp right away biting down on your bottom lip which earns a laugh from Eren. He plays with it, taking it out then putting it back in. The melted water dripped down your pussy onto the bed.

"Eren please!" You plead still squirming around.

"What's wrong baby?" He smirks watching you struggle in front of him.

"I wanna cum!"

"But that's no fun, I like teasing you"

Yeah but this isn't fun anymore

You start to sob wishing you had never agreed to any of this as you desperately needed to cum and Eren just kept toying with you.

Eren sighs taking pity on you deciding that he would let you finally cum cause he hated hearing you cry.

The ice cube finally melts leaving you cold and wet. Eren gets off the bed positioning his face in between your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs so that you that you can't move.

His long tongue drags across your slit to your clit, licking it up and down. You slowly start grinding your hips again gaining your pleasure back. His fingers dig into your skin, enjoying tasting how good you taste, eating you like you were his last meal.

"I'm sorry y/n but you taste so fucking good, I think I'm gonna make you cum more than once today."

#smut #oneshot #attack on titan smut #eren smut #eren yaeger x y/n #attack in titan #eren x reader

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Malchance (Reid Fic) - Part 2

Summary: The only thing reader can count on is her bad luck and what it’ll get her into. In this case, it’s the lioness’ den - the lioness being Cat Adams.

Category: Angst, Fluffy Ending Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Canon-consistent trauma, brief mention of daddy issues, blood, manipulation, yelling, deceit (Let me know if I missed anything) Playlist: Call Out My Name by The Weeknd Word Count: 5k

READ PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“There’s going to be a key to cracking Cat,” Ms. Prentiss explained to me.

“A key?”

“You’ll know it when you find it.”

That was probably the most ambiguous advice I could’ve gotten, but it’s the one she sent me into the field with and the one that loomed in the back of my head as everything unfolded.

The plan the team and I agreed upon, which ironically Dr. Reid knew no part of, was that after Cat and him went to the rink, they’d come back to his apartment, where I would be waiting. Posing as his concerned girlfriend, the unexpected presence of competition would enrage Cat. With the wrath of a woman scorned, she’ll be furious enough to slip up and make a mistake.

I’ve heard that she’s done her best, or arguably her worst, when she’s prepared, so this curveball might just put an end to the reign of Queen Cat.

As far as the outlined plan of events went, sure, it was simple. As for me?

No shot in hell that I’d be able to pull this off.

There was seemingly no feasible reality where I could outsmart her until she made a mistake or keep on the facade long enough to deceive her. The entire success of the plan hinged on my abilities or her lack of propriety. Not exactly betting odds, if you ask me.

And yet, against everything, I was still walking into the lion’s den on my own volition, making myself right at home, acting like this was exactly where I belonged. When in reality, this was the last place I should’ve been.

“You got this, okay?” Someone in my earpiece chirped. Just out of paranoia, I pressed the device further in, un-tucking the strands of hair behind my ear to better conceal it. Even that wasn’t enough to lower the specter of my doubt. I prayed that she was lax in her vetting tonight.

“Spencie!” A giggly shriek from outside the door sent one large shock wave through my entire body. It was so sharp like they were right there. The sound of heavy footsteps followed, and my stomach churned in anticipation. I already hated this.

How did I even get here?

Oh, right - malchance.

I contemplated cracking my knuckles to self-soothe, but then I remembered what Ms. Prentiss told me about ‘tells.’

“Bodily tells are how people can read the emotions you’re not directly expressing. A majority of what profilers use to study behavior is your body language. Unfortunately, some of the best profilers are the unsubs themselves. She’ll know what you’re feeling if you show her. So stay strong.”

Stay strong.

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the fear from washing over me when the pair of muffled voices outside became clearer as they entered the apartment.

I must’ve caught them in the middle of something, but I couldn’t exactly deduce what, seeing as they stopped when they saw me, which was before I turned around.

Dr. Reid was floored by my being there, but at least, he had a look of recognition. It wasn’t enough that he merely distinguished me to settle the worry I had about the fact that the BAU hadn’t told him I would be here. If I could, I would have, but they each advised against it. They needed his raw reaction just as much as they needed her’s.

One ghastly look up and down and I could tell she came to the exact conclusion the team anticipated she would - that I’m her new competition.

“Spencie - who is this?”

Her dehumanization of me made Dr. Reid viscerally guilty for having extended an opportunity to let yet another person suffer the corollaries of her cruelty. He shook his head softly at me as though to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ An interesting choice - that that was what he chose to nonverbally say to me first. He didn’t even ask me with his eyes why I was here or what I was doing - he just apologized.

What has this poor man been through?

“I’m his girlfriend,” I answered for him before the silence could get suspiciously long. By inserting myself in the conversation, I was following what the BAU suggested I should do earlier. Stand your ground. You can’t be afraid to speak up to her. “I’m (y/n). You are?”

I held out my hand for a handshake that was never returned. Instead, all I got back was an ice cold stare.

She’s reading your body language, an inner voice I didn’t even recognize called from within me. Soon after I realized it wasn’t my conscience speaking - it was Ms. Prentiss. I’d forgotten I had an earpiece, much less that there were micro cameras littered all over the apartment so they could have a firsthand view of this train wreck. How could anyone voluntarily watch this mess unravel?

“And when did this happen?” Her voice went up an octave as she tilted her head with morbid curiosity, then let it roll back in Dr. Reid’s direction. “Spencer?”

“Five months ago,” he replied without missing a beat, keeping his eyes steady on mine. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve believed him, but that stare he was giving me said something more. What’s going on? He wondered.

Oh, Dr. Reid, if only I could tell you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” She asked through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Suddenly, the surface of her expressions liquified then melted away until I could see well beneath the anger, revealing the bodily tells of humiliation.

I was profiling her, and I didn’t even know that I could.

“You made me promise not to talk about anyone else except you tonight, remember?” He remarked with an uncharacteristic amount of edge behind his words.

His outer mask was liquefying and transforming in its own right, too. As Cat became easier to read, the Doctor was slowly morphing into the man I first met - the man who was furious enough to throw an entire set of books off a table. The man who’s darkness made him impossible to read - made it impossible to think he’d ever been seen or touched by the light.

She huffed and spun her head around so fast, it made her hair whip up and over her shoulder. The stern look upon her face fell for the briefest moment, and if it hadn’t been for everything I knew about her, I would’ve thought she looked pretty. She was pretty. But her soul, her sensibilities, they just ruined her. It was a shame really.

She was tainted by wickedness in a way that I never would be, and for that, she had already come to the decisive determination that she hated me.

“So how old are you, (y/n)?” Like a hawk hovering over its prey, she began to walk around me in a tight circle so she could scrutinize my every angle, discover every flaw, and poke at every button she could find. Precisely why she asked that question, too. She wanted to know where the similarities started and ended between us. She wanted to compare herself to me. Size me up, tear me down - lioness v. lioness. If she was gonna play dirty, then so be it. Two can play that game.

“I’m 28.” A flat out lie. I’m 26.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you had a type, Spencer,” She ruefully chuckled.

“And what’s that, Cat?” I couldn’t see him, but he sounded so unamused.

“Jailbait.”

There wasn’t much I could do besides move on from the subject. “Cat? Is it?” Considering she hadn’t told me her name before, I think Dr. Reid purposefully included it in his response so that I’d have a reason to know what it was.

Smart move, Doctor.

I wanted to smile from the way he was helping me out and working together with me, but my poker face stayed on.

“Catherine Adams,” She drew out the name to assert herself. I didn’t get to call her Cat like Dr. Reid did. That was his name for her and his name only. She made that point crystal clear. When I finally shrugged, she pounced once more.

“You really have no idea who I am? I’m hurt.” She fake pouted and put a hand to her heart to feign offense. “Spencer’s never mentioned me? Not once in your five months of dating?” Her emphasis on the timing of our ‘relationship’ showed her knowledge of the deceit, but she needed to do more than just put stress on one word. I wouldn’t back down that easily.

“Why would he? You mean nothing to us.” Nastier words have never left my lips, and yet, I still made sure they were coated in the harshest tone I could muster up the courage to use.

She scoffed and stopped walking around me to pull on Dr. Reid’s arm and force her mouth to make contact with his ear. Despite the closeness, he still refused to meet her eyes. He kept them locked on mine.

“I mean nothing to you? Is that so?” Her breath was a jarring enough sensation on his neck to make his eyes shut. He was beyond uncomfortable. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you told me at the rink?”

“What did you tell her, Spencer?” I was forcing him to speak, not because of the case, but because I wanted to know. Was that wrong?

“I …” The words got caught in his throat. “I told her that there’s some part of my brain, some part that she somehow inhabits.”

A pang in my chest told me there was still more. That pang would be correct.

“No, go ahead, Spencie. Tell her the rest. Don’t be shy now.”

He forced himself to look away from me as he said, “And no woman, no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how …”

“Say it,” She demanded, firmly tugging on his arm harder.

“No matter how sexy she is, can ever get her out.” He looked repulsed by his own admission, and if I was being honest, so was I.

“Are you in love with her?” Although I was venturing far off script, it felt like an appropriate response as his ‘girlfriend.’ It was my response.

“No. I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

He’s such a pretty liar.

Cat must’ve been annoyed by her lack of involvement in the conversation as she felt compelled to step in. “Prove it. Kiss her like you kissed me out there and I might believe you.”

Pretending to be hurt wasn’t hard. Not when I didn’t have to pretend.

“You kissed her, too?” I had to ask.

Imagine if I were actually this poor guy’s girlfriend. Forget me - God help that girl. Even if this was all for the sake of the job, that wouldn’t have made it any better hearing what he’d confessed to her or what they did.

Dr. Reid looked incredibly apologetic for someone that had nothing to apologize for. Sure, I was playing his girlfriend, but I wasn’t actually anyone of value in his life. So why did he look like he felt so goddamn guilty?

“Ugh hurry up and kiss already!” Cat stomped her foot impatiently.

As she released Dr. Reid, she gave him a strong shove in my direction, causing him to stumble right into me. He’d caught himself by grabbing onto my hips, while I stabilized him by clutching onto his forearms.

His eyes were piercing through mine. I won’t kiss you unless I have your permission. His eyes read.

Fighting against every reflex in my body that was resisting, I leaned closer. Then, right as I closed my eyes, I felt it.

Not his lips.

Blood.

My blood.

The coin-like taste shocked my eyes wide open so fast you would think I never even closed them in the first place. Abandoning my grip on his arm, I used my hand to block the sight of my bloody nose.

(Y/n), what’s going on? Ms. Prentiss asked in my earpiece.

“My nose is bleeding,” was my answer for everyone listening - Dr. Reid, Cat, and the BAU alike.

“Are you alright?” He unhesitatingly shifted out of the role he seemed to be playing. His guard fell down to the point where it felt like nothing else mattered but to know that I was okay. It wasn’t Spencer and his fake girlfriend talking anymore, it was Dr. Reid and me again.

“HELLO?! What’s going on?” The minute Cat’s shrilly voice hit the air, Dr. Reid shut it down with a steadfast hand.

“Not now, Cat! Time out.” He motioned a T before he let an invisible magnetic force freely connect his hands onto my hips again. It seemed like he didn’t even touch me on his own accord but instead, it was the mere gravitational pull that brought his body back to mine. “This isn’t a game anymore.” His tone was unwavering as he walked me away from Cat and into the bathroom.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispered in a familiar tone after shutting the bathroom door behind himself. “You can leave now. You don’t have to keep doing this.” As though I were his grandmother’s delicate china, he hoisted me in the air momentarily to help me onto the sink with an almost unnecessarily large amount of caution.

“I’m fine.” While I attempted to wave off his concern nonchalantly, traitorous butterflies swarmed my stomach at the feeling of his touch.

“Don’t tell me you’re fine!” He scolded through an outpouring of laughter. “I can see the blood!” He underlined his words by pressing the toilet paper he retrieved on the spot under my nose where the blood was centralized.

“Then don’t ask!” I just as playfully responded.

“Alright, fine, fine,” He jokingly put his hands up in surrender. “What should I ask you then?”

I wish I was more uncomfortable than I truly was. Maybe then it would’ve been easier to lie to him. But there was something about how close he was to me or how unrelenting his stare was that made sincerity spill out from my every seam.

“‘Why are you even here if you’re just ruining things?’”

He looked so hurt despite the fact that the depreciation was directed at me. “Why would I ask you that?”

“Because it’s true, isn’t it?” My eyes flashed to the door to ensure it was closed, but without the ability to guarantee that Cat wasn’t right outside listening in, I lowered my voice. “I’m way in over my head here. I have no idea what I’m doing and I feel like I’m just making things worse.”

“None of that is true,” It sounded like a reprimand, the way he was defending me to me. “The team wouldn’t have asked you to be here if they didn’t think you could do it … and anyway, it’s kind of nice having a partner in crime.”

He needed to watch his step before he began charting dangerous waters from which he could never escape. I was already playing with fire by allowing any real genuine emotion seep out around Cat. Except now that he’d thrown me a lifeline with his insinuation of liking my company, I knew, at least to some degree, that the feeling was mutual. I briefly calculated the risk until I ultimately decided to let my boldness rear its ugly head.

With the speed of light, I clicked off my earpiece with one hand and turned off Spencer’s with the other. He caught my wrist only after I’d successfully disabled the devices from allowing the team to hear us and us to hear them.

“What are you doing?” “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

Our questions came at the exact same time, and yet I didn’t repeat myself.

I knew he heard me.

It was out of turn for me, given that I’d only briefly calculated the risk of asking this before doing it. It came out suddenly and then I couldn’t take it back. But I blame his gaze for my oversharing. It brought me so much comfort that I failed to recognize the discomfort my question had posed.

He sort of laughed, saying, “Your nose was bleeding.”

Under any other circumstance, I would have believed him. Unfortunately, he was exceptionally unconvincing, precisely because he didn’t look very sure of that explanation himself.

While I’m sure my nose bleeding was a reason not to kiss me, it was most definitely not the reason. My honesty itself felt something like a nose bleed. For one thing, it annoyed me and was beyond my control. But for another, I wished I could find the source and pinch it off to make it stop. Stop it before I spilled out the words, “Oh, I get it ... you just didn’t want to kiss me.”

“That was definitely not the problem,” He said a little too quickly and a little too adamantly that it made my head spin. In that response - he sounded very sure of himself, a complete contrast to his previous demeanor.

“So why didn’t you?” I wish I could tell you why I was pressing the subject so hard. I’d like to think that if you were in my position, you’d want to know the answer as badly as I do now, which is the best rationale I could possibly come up with to justify what I said next.

“If you weren’t scared and if you didn’t not want to, then why didn’t you?”

“(Y/n),” He averted my eyes by turning his head to the side, revealing a side smirk of contempt. I should’ve been mad that he was visibly frustrated because if anything - he was the one being frustrating. Instead, all I could think about was how I wanted to kiss that smirky mouth. Maybe to make the smirky-ness disappear. Or to control it.

Make it mine.

“You’re running out of excuses, Dr. Reid. You’re going to have to kiss me eventually, so let’s just get this over with already.” Did I really just say that?

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Kiss me!” Yes, I really did.

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Just kiss me!”

“(Y/n), stop.”

“God, Spencer, just kiss me already!”

“No!” His eyes found me again; This time they were wider. “Not like this!”

Silence.

Then he cleared his throat as if they’d somehow cover the confession that had already been said.

“Not - I didn't mean - I just. We can't like that because that's not … do you know? Like it's very ... that's not what-" He continued to stammer until he mouthed one last “What?” to himself in complete disbelief of the words that had left his lips and the words that were still struggling to.

Our brains must’ve been working at the exact same speed because while he couldn’t find the right words to say, I was still trying to process everything he already had.

Without waiting for my response, he fled from the bathroom. When the door slammed shut, I whipped my body around to face the mirror, my fist tingling with the urge to punch the stupid girl staring back at me in the reflection.

I knew I couldn’t take refuge in here for much longer unless I really wanted to piss Cat off. Which I totally did, but not if I couldn’t guarantee that Spencer wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. As confused and pissed off as he made me, I never wanted to hurt him.

Once this realization dawned on me, another one had followed.

This was the key to cracking Cat. I’d found it.

Like an overexcited bull bursting through the gates, I pushed my way out of the bathroom door seeing red. I saw Spencer first, standing in the corner of the room to monitor Cat from a distance. The aforementioned lioness herself was perched in an armchair, slouching in it comfortably as though she’d sat in that very seat a hundred times before. Not a single display of care in her conduct for the people whose lives she was actively trying to ruin.

“So you finally ready to kiss your boyfriend yet?” If sarcasm were a liquid, it’d be dripping from her lips. She was so casually destructive when she spoke, like a loose-lipped bomb capable of going off at any minute but deliberately delaying the blow until it was guaranteed to wreak the most havoc on the most number of people. Seeing her in that light only made things easier.

“Forget the kiss, Cat. In fact, forget Spencer all together,” I waved my hand in his general direction behind me. Like him, I was standing, giving me all the power I needed to assert myself effectively. “It’s just you and me now. Exactly what you’ve wanted since the minute you stepped in here.”

She laughed ruefully, if only to make me insecure. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you scoped me out. You were doing that to figure out how alike we are, right?”

She straightened a little more to sit up in her chair. She was hooked. “Why would I want to do that?”

With my right foot, I swiped the foot rest out from underneath her legs, making her feet fall flat against the floor. Caught off guard by my swift movement, her upper body hurled forward while I took my seat on the foot rest, placing me directly across from her.

It wasn’t for a lack of dominance that I sat down. No, it was that I knew I had power over her, and I didn’t need to stand up anymore to prove it.

“Feel free to stop me when I’m wrong,” I told her emphatically, knowing that would never happen.

“You have always wanted Spencer. That’s just a fact. But deep down, you know he’s never truly wanted you. Sure, maybe he likes, even loves, the allure of your forbidden connection, but he doesn’t like or love you. And now that I’m here, the person he claims he loves in a way he’s never loved anyone before, you want to know just how similar we are. Because the more similarities you find between us, the more it kills you inside to wonder why he would love me over you if we’re practically the same. But you’ve only judged me from the outside, and we both know looks only go so far. So I’ll make it easier for you, Cat. I’ll tell you anything you want to know that way you can come up with an answer to the question you’ve been asking yourself the entire night: ‘Why her and not me?’”

She couldn’t pretend to be unfazed anymore. I had moved her beyond that. She was finally starting to react.

“You would only be this confident if you already knew the answer to that question.” She concluded through gritted teeth. Her body was shaking all over, like the rage inside of her was boiling and her body was the feverish, bubbling water. “Do you know the answer?”

I had nothing to hide. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me!” She threw down an iron fist against the top of her thigh. “Tell me what the answer is.”

“You have more confidence in my answer than you’re ability to figure it out yourself? Come on, Cat. You couldn’t have gotten this far without your intelligence.”

“I don’t want to figure it out. I want you to tell me.” Her fist clamped around itself harder.

“You don’t trust yourself to ask the right questions?”

“Just. Tell. Me.” Jaw clench.

“Alright, I’ll give you one similarity to start. We both have daddy issues-”

“I don’t care! Just give me the answer.” Foot tapping.

“My grandma used to call my dad a ‘Bastard’ in French actually -”

“Tell me!” Bodily tell after bodily tell, and I knew, I had done it.

I beat the betting odds.

“Fine, Cat. I’ll tell you what it is,” I had her undivided attention, and if I had eyes at the back of my head, I’d see I had Spencer’s, too.

“The fundamental difference between you and me is that no matter what - I would never, ever, do anything to hurt Spencer. I have no compulsion to hurt him as a way to assert power over him or to make him fall at my feet. I can do that without ever having to go to the lengths that you’ve gone to. The power you wield over him is borne from a long-standing vendetta, whereas the power I wield, I resist using against him for revenge because that is what a morally sane person does. While I use my influence to help Spencer believe that he is a good person worthy of good treatment, you are constantly trying to prove that he is a bad person deserving of bad treatment. That he is anything like you.”

Her eyes just barely starting to water marked the last semblance of emotion I’d seen from Cat before the team swarmed the apartment and whisked her away. Then, the proverbial veneer of her mask had glazed back over her face, never to come off again.

As Luke escorted her out in handcuffs, she gave me one last look over her shoulder.

“How did you know about my dad?”

You might think I slipped up when I told Cat that we were similar because of our daddy issues, therefore accidentally revealing that I knew more about Cat’s backstory than I led on, but that was purely by design. I had done that with the specific intention of setting this exact moment in motion.

This moment where she would recognize that she’d overlooked my ‘mistake’ because of her lack of propriety. This moment where she would have to face the fact that she’d been deceived and outsmarted by me.

This moment that she would think about until the day that needle went into her arm - the moment she realized - she let me win.

_ _ _

As twisted as it may seem, the end to the reign of Queen Cat called for celebration. Penelope - she told me to call her that and not Ms. Garcia - had prepared cocktails galore in the round table room, which I’d actually been invited to enter this time.

“You exceeded any expectations we had. The best we could’ve hoped for was no casualties, so I’m thrilled with the way things turned out tonight, and we couldn’t have done it without you,” Ms. Prentiss pulled me aside to say. “If you want it, there’s a spot waiting for you here on the team, and I really think you should consider taking it.”

To her proposal, I said I’d have to think about it, given that I’d hate to bestow my bad luck upon the team, but after tonight, I was about ready to declare my malchance a thing of the past.

At this rate, I couldn’t distinguish whether I was dizzy from the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream or the job promotion from Secretary to Supervisory Special Agent. In any event, I knew I needed air. I slipped out of the conference room, past the glass doors of the bullpen, and waited patiently for the elevator.

I must’ve caught Spencer after coming back from his ride with Cat to the prison because when the elevator doors opened, he was standing just on the other side of them, looking lost in thought.

“Oh, hi!” I chirped, realizing then that he and I hadn’t said a word to each other since the “Kiss Me Bathroom Incident.”

“Hey,” he called back, his voice already sounding unfamiliar after its lack of use towards me.

“Long time no see,” I joked to first lighten the air that seemed heavy between us. “I was just going to go down to get some fresh air.”

“I’ll join you.”

Because I hadn’t expected him to say that, I fumbled awkwardly into the tiny space that seemingly got smaller by the second, especially now that he was filling the space with me.

The silence was a little too suffocating for my taste, and I couldn’t afford to have my breath be any more restricted by that than it already was being in this slender cage next to Spencer. Just to occupy the absence, I started rambling. “You know I was thinking -”

No sooner did I start speaking than my words were cut off by the sweet, sweet shut of my mouth because of Spencer’s. His lips wholly encompassed mine just as his hands did to my face. I was surrounded by him and for that my breath had truly been taken away this time, but in the absolute best ways possible.

There was simply no air.

His ivy-like enclosure around me somehow made the claustrophobic elevator expand. Or maybe it felt like it had fallen away entirely. Nothing else around. Just us.

His hands moved wherever they pleased and I followed suit, letting my hands go where they wished, never staying stationary in one place for too long.

I had to feel him everywhere. Filling everything.

He’d pulled away first, biting my bottom lip with blunt teeth to take me with him, and then he forced my lip in its place by kissing it back, pushing his lips impossibly closer like he wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t just trying to restore my bottom lip, but rather fuse ours together forever.

He pulled away for real this time but not far. His face and mine were centimeters apart, our breathes mixing in the microscopic air betwixt us.

Still breathless, he rasped, “I meant something like that.”

Now, I can say with absolute certainty that my malchance was a thing of the past.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

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shoto-hoedoroki · 3 years

Photo

Cuffed, a smut by shoto-hoedoroki (NSFW, 18+)

Shoto Todoroki x fem reader, Tags: Handcuffs, boyfriend, sexting, spanking, slight pain kink, hair pulling, fem receiving oral, mirror usage, aged up characters

Word count: 4.2k

This is my first smut piece, so I’m super excited about it, just been horny about a few of the mha boys recently tbh, alr here we go :)

PS: would def do a part 2 if this gets appreciated, might do one regardless, lol!

_____

Ah, team dinners. Always memorable but rarely a joy. You sat near the end of the long wooden dining table between Moms and Su. Across from you sat your boyfriend, Shoto Todoroki, who sat between Izuku and Ochoa.

You and Shoto hadn’t been dating for that long — only around ten months. You’d had sex around the six month mark and it had been intense, to say the least. You and Shoto had an immediate, undeniable passion that couldn’t be ignored.

Recently, you’d been testing the waters with each of your respective sexual desires. It was out of both of your controls, for in the bedroom you lost yourselves to each other. Each first attempt at a new kink was hesitant, but once you both asserted that you were comfortable with it, reigns loosened completely and you had each other. You loved seeing the uncontrolled, heated sexual drive in Shoto’s eyes. He was insatiable. He was your drug.

This week of training at UA had been unforgiving. You’d barely had time with Shoto and you were having serious withdrawals. You could tell through the subtle way that Shoto eyed you from across the table that he was lusting for you in the same way. His eyes, unreadable to most, showed you a dark desire that needed to be satisfied.

Your end of the dining table held kind conversation. Su and Momo were giving Ochaka encouraging words about her training, while Izuku and Todoroki listened and interjected when necessary.

“You’ll figure out a way around the nausea, Ochaka,” Su said, “You always have before.”

“Yeah, I’m just stressed out because everyone else is doing great with their new moves. I don’t wanna fall behind . . .” Ochaka lifted her palms up to her blushing cheeks and spared a quick glance towards Izuku.

“You’ll get there. I’m sure of it!” Mom said, giving Ochaka a firm and encouraging nod.

“Yeah, Ochaka,” Izuku pipe up, “I’m struggling with my new move too. I’m trying my best not to imitate All Might with this one, but considering that he’s the best hero of our age why shouldn’t I be? What standard am I setting for myself if I settle, versus if I . . .”

Those in earshot collectively groaned as Izuku began to ramble intensely while staring at his hands. Beneath the table, something nudged your foot meaningfully. You looked straight ahead and saw Shoto staring at his lap. When he looked up, his eyes immediately met yours and you were faced with a look that made your heart beat faster. The lust in his eyes made it clear what he was going to do to you tonight.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. As Momo begged Izuku to stop rambling, you pulled it out and checked the notification — a text from Shoto. It read:

‘I’ve got something I want to try out later.’

You glanced up at him with an eyebrow raised, but he was looking off in another direction. Playing hard to get? Or was he just keeping your communications secret, not giving anyone else a hint at what was happening between you?

Regardless, you texted back:

‘What is it, baby?’

You nudged his foot back under the table for fun. He was looking down, undoubtedly at his phone. Your phone buzzed and you eagerly checked it.

Shoto had sent a plain picture of black-rimmed handcuffs lying on his bedspread, probably taken just before dinner and saved for this moment. He just wanted to rile you up in public.

Your jaw dropped reactively; his boldness shocked you. Luckily, screams burst out down the table at that moment. Bakugo was standing at his feet and screaming about someone touching his damn rice. Kirishima and Kaminari cackled before him. You were able to recover yourself before general attention was drawn away from Bakugo’s scene; everyone had first been alerted by the shouting, but it was just Bakugo being Bakugo.

You looked back to Shoto, who was again refusing to meet your eyes. You frowned, trying to craft up a response to his racy text. Suddenly, he shifted his gaze back to you. The corner of his lip was tipped upwards. His ego was feeling boosted tonight, huh? Maybe he’d already gotten himself off earlier to the thought of you trapped in the cuffs beneath him, squirming while he fucked you until you were speechless.

The response then snapped into your mind. You quickly typed it out and pressed send:

Who’s wearing them first?

Now it was your turn to grin. You looked back up the table to Shoto. He took out his phone again. You carefully watched as his eyes scanned over your daring words. At first, his eyes widened, but just as quickly they narrowed. He shot you a predatory glance up between his lashes.

Your phone buzzed. Shoto said:

I’m in charge of you tonight, baby. You’re mine.

You squirmed in your seat at the words and looked up once more to your boyfriend. He was leaning back in his seat, comfortably smirking at you, his arms crossed and his dress shirt pushed up sexily to his elbows. Maybe what was most sexy was how clueless everyone else around you was, and how meaningful that smirk was to you.

****

The dinner ended, and as everyone walked back to their respective dorm rooms, you and Shoto both lingered in the common area. You bade your classmates goodnight one by one. You could practically feel the passionate heat waving off of Shoto. He didn’t say goodnight to any of your classmates; perhaps he was too worked up to even use his voice.

Finally, the pair of you were finally alone. You glanced up to see that he was already gazing down at you. Something deep and primitive was showing in his eyes.

“Follow me.” He murmured, before grabbing your hand and beginning to walk in the direction of his dorm room.

The walk was silent. You were nervous and so excited. Your heart raced as imaginative images flashed through your mind of what was potentially to come.

Shoto lead you around the corner and finally, after what felt like eternity, you were at his door. He pushed it open and you followed him in. You barely got passed the threshold when he turned and placed his palm against the inside of the door. He pressed it shut, effectively pushing you against the door and trapping you beneath his arms. He leaned over you, and you could merely cower beneath his lusted gaze. His breaths lightly puffed against your forehead.

“I can’t wait to taste you tonight, y/n.” Shoto murmured, leaning close to your ear so his breath tickled it and his gravelly voice was incredibly clear. “I’ve been thinking about touching your little pussy all week.”

You exhaled as the gravity of his words set in. He pressed his lips against your ear, then placed multiple kisses along the side of your face until he made it to your neck. You couldn’t help yourself as your hands reached forward, burrowing under his shirt to feel his abs beneath your fingers. You relished the softness of his skin and reached to grip at his muscled back, pulling him closer to you. He grunted in pleasure and gave your neck a small suck before pulling away entirely.

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He turned and walked over to his bed. You spotted the handcuffs from the photo behind him. Shoto reached overhis head and gripped the back of his shirt before pulling it off and tossing it aside. Your gaze went hazy as you watched this show. His back looked so damn taut.

Shoto turned around, now just in slacks. He had a thin, short silver chain hanging from his neck that you hadn’t noticed beneath his shirt earlier. The cuffs were in his palms.

“Come here.” He instructed. You obliged. He reached for your hands and you watched as he carefully cuffed your hands together in front of your torso. There was a serene focus on his face that nearly made you shudder with anticipation.

“On the bed.”

You obliged, easily, scooting back near the headboard. Shoto climbed over you, and you tried to keep your eyes on his face but they lowered to see his defined pecs and abs flex as he made his way up the bed, and you were in a trance at how his v-line so suggestively dipped beneath his slacks . . .

While you weren’t paying attention, Shoto grabbed your wrists with his left hand and forced them over your head. You gasped as he used ice to freeze the handcuffs, and your hands, to the headboard.

“Shouldn’t have let your guard down,” Shoto growled, “What were you saying earlier during dinner? That for some maniacal reason you thought you’d be in control tonight? No, y/n . . . You’re fucking mine tonight.”

You pulled downwards a bit as to test the strength of your cuffs, but as usual his ice was impeccable. You looked up and saw that same subtle smirk on his lips, just a mere upwards twitch of one corner of his mouth. And still, ever-present in those eyes, the undeniable, heated lust of somebody who was about to fuck his girlfriend senseless.

“Fuck, Shoto,” You breathed, helpless.

Shoto then bent down and finally pressed his lips to yours. You immediately melted to his touch, giving a small sigh of satisfaction against his lips. While he began to unbutton your blouse, you wrapped your legs around his hips. Shoto gave a low moan and pressed inwards so you could feel how hard he was already. Fuck, each time you felt his hard cock, even beneath his pants, the size of it shocked you.

Shoto pulled away from your lips and began to press kisses down to your chest, eager to suck on your exposed nipples. He gave them sharp flicks with his tongue, and you pressed your chest upwards into his mouth, wishing you could grab his hair but unable to move your arms at all.

“My favorite thing about this —“ Shoto said, pulling up and then going back down for a quick nip, “— is that I could restrain your entire body with my ice if I wanted to.”

You clenched your legs around his hips, and Shoto hummed a small, lustful chuckle against your chest.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to fuck you in any way that I want.” Shoto spared a glance up at you, tweaking your nipple just as he made eye contact. He forced you to watch as his slick tongue darted from his lips and began to encircle on the nub.

Your head fell back and you unashamedly moaned.

“No, baby,” Shoto said, and you felt his hand leave your chest and wrap behind your head, entangling his fingers in your hair. He then forced your head upwards again, “Eyes on me.”

So you watched helplessly as he pulled away from your tits and allowed his fingers to slowly trail down your sides. You squirmed beneath him.

“Please, Shoto,” You breathed, wiggling your hips slightly, pushing up against his. Shoto bit his lip and cocked his head, as if restraining himself, and let out a short groan.

“So impatient,” Shoto said, “You’re lucky that I'm feeling impatient myself. I just can’t wait to feel how wet that tiny little pussy is for me.”

He dug his fingers beneath the waist band of your skirt and panties, pulling both downwards. You lifted your knees to help the process until finally he tossed aside the fabric and you were fully exposed beneath him.

Shoto then bent forward, holding himself up directly over you and giving you a short, deep kiss. He pulled away so his face was only inches from yours. You couldn’t look away from his dark, needy eyes.

You felt his fingers slip between your legs, pressing up against your entrance. Shoto’s lips fell open slightly, and he easily slid a finger in. The maintained eye contact made it all the more intense.

“Fu-uck, y/n,” He breathed out, pulling the finger out and sliding it back in agonizingly slow, “I can’t wait to have a taste..”

“I can’t wait to feel you inside of me, Shoto.” You gazed in his eyes with a helpless look, knowing it would be his undoing. Shoto bit down on his lip, hard; his finger plunged into you, causing you to moan slightly, and he closed his eyes.

He moved quickly away from your face and down between your legs. He placed his hands behind your knees and pushed them upwards towards your head until your ass was entirely off the bed. Your pussy was angled directly into the air. Finally, he moved his large hands down to stretch them over your thighs and hold you there.

You stared up at him, loving the way his muscles flexed as he held your pussy up to him while holding you against the bed.

Shoto bent down and you watched as his tongue darted from his lips. It was cool against your entrance, and he licked slowly up the wet slit to your clit, where he traced small circles around the sensitive nub.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” Shoto breathed against your pussy before placing his lips in a kiss around your clit. He then dragged his tongue back down to your entrance and pushed it inwards. You moaned as his tongue danced inside of you, licking up your wetness. Shoto moaned against your opening, his breath tickling your clit. Your thighs shook, threatening to press inwards, but fuck he was strong and held them steadily spread so he could fully taste your pussy.

Your arms jerked downwards but you were fully helpless. You couldn’t even fight out of this with your quick, not like you’d want to. Shoto’s tongue flicked at your clit, earning a spiral of moans from you. He buried his lips between your pussy folds and sucked, gently applying his teeth to elicit a loud moan and full body clench from you.

“Fuck, Shoto! Nn-h . . .” You braced your teeth and he chuckled against your pussy.

“You like that, baby?” Shoto asked, his voice rumbling low and sending vibrations against your pussy. You glanced downward, met by those damn two-toned eyes from between your thighs, and watched his tongue dart from his lips and press on your clit. You moaned, your head falling back between your arms, and your legs twitching together, but once again held down by his pure strength.

“Mmmm-hmm, yes, I fucking love it . . . Please, keep going.” You panted. But then, his tongue pulled away. Your jaw dropped as he pulled himself back upwards, that stupid victorious smirk on his eyes. You watched his tongue slowly lick your wetness from his own lips and then retreat into his mouth.

“I could eat this pussy all night,” Shoto said, “But like I told you earlier, what I say right now . . . Goes.”

He then pulled down his slacks, allowing his fully hard cock to spring outwards. Shoto brought himself back up towards your head and began to kiss you; he laid a hand around your head and gripped your hair in his hand. You whimpered and clenched your thighs around his muscular torso, and he growled in pleasure against your lips. You knew how much Shoto liked to feel your reactions to his stimulation. He gripped your hair tighter to earn himself more of you wrapping around his body.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathed. You wanted to jerk your damn arms out of the handcuffs so you could feel his slick, sexy torso that was mere inches above yours.

You felt the head of his cock pressing against your pussy and you leaned your hips into it. Shoto didn’t fight it, allowing the head of his cock to slip past your pussy lips. He let out a low moan and thrusted forth another inch, but stopped before he could fully enter you. He remained exactly where he was, only an inch past the tip inside of you, leaving you a whimpering mess on the bed.

“Fuck me. Please,” You whispered. You wrapped your thighs around his back to keep him from getting to far as he leaned back slightly. In the reflecting light in the dark room, his torso looked so damn muscular. The chain on his chest glinted gently in the light, hanging between you two.

“Beg all you want, but we’re doing things my way.” Fuck, the feeling of him so close to being inside of you but not quite was agonizing.

“You’re going to come on my cock more than once tonight.” Shoto purred before pressing forward again, and suddenly you could another inch of his cock between your pussy, and now that it was in more, you could feel its thickness widening your pussy lips. You nearly shuddered, “So we’re gonna start off slow.”

Before he even bottomed inside of you for the first time that night, you felt his thumb press onto your clit and began to move in slow, teasing, circular motions. He was gazing into your eyes darkly, searching for your satisfaction, and you felt the full length of his cock slowly begin to slip past your folds into your pussy.

“I love feeling your cunt stretch out for me. It’s so damn tight.” Shoto said, continuing to massage your clit as his cock moved slowly into you, inch by damn inch. You panted on the bed, maintaining that eye contact, and already your legs were beginning to tremble.

“Fuck, Shoto, I want you to fuck me harder!” You begged, leaning towards him the most you could while cuffed and looking into his eyes. Damn, you were pathetic. But at that moment, you let out a whimper; his dick hadn’t even fully entered your vagina, but it was already pressing against your cervix.

Todoroki let out a low moan. His eyelids fluttered in pleasure. He leaned his torso down, propped up by one hand, and kissed you, leaving his length as deeply as he could inside of you for the time being. Your entire body was beginning to twitch with pleasure as his thumb’s movements increased in pressure and intensity on your clit.

Todoroki pulled away from the kiss and bent down over your ear, and finally began pumping in and out of you, so very slowly. You wrapped your thighs around his back to keep him from moving away, because you loved feeling his low, deep breaths right against your ear as he fucked you.

You were moaning louder and louder. His finger was now flicking and rubbing your clit just the way you know Todoroki loved to; it’s the way he manipulated you when he wanted you to come.

“Please, make me cum,” You whimpered through moans in his ear. Shoto became riled at the words and gave slow, hard thrust into you. You cried out and clenched around him.

“Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel that little pussy cum all over my cock.” He was flicking your clit so quickly, and you felt the blood rush to your face as you came, moaning and wrapping around him and cooing his name as he eased you to your finish. Shoto matched your moans in your ear, undoubtedly loving the feeling of your pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick cock.

He relinquished pressure on your clit after you finished and leaned up the moment your legs relaxed around him. However, he left his cock in, and as you panted on the bed, you spared a glance upwards to see the deep lust still ever present in his eyes.

One of his arms was reaching over you and you realized he was melting the ice around your handcuffs. As you recovered from your orgasm, Todoroki tilted you on your side and redid the handcuffs, this time behind your back instead of in front of you.

“Are — are we switching positions?” You asked through deep breaths — you couldn’t help the long recovery time it took from the orgasms Shoto gave you.

“What, you thought I was done with you?” Todoroki said in a low, dangerous voice. He grabbed the chain linking the handcuffs together and you arranged yourselves so that you were on your knees facing the edge of the bed, while he was behind you. Both of you faced the mirror that he had just hung before his bed. In the mirror you could see yourself on your knees, face flushed and tits swelled with gravity. Positioned behind you, also on his knees, Shoto was holding you upright by gripping the chain of the handcuffs in his left hand. You watched his eyes rake over your ass before reeling back with his free hand and placing a sharp smack on your cheek.

You let out a squeal, but quickly pleaded, “Smack it again.”

Todoroki obliged, and you watched as his right palm glowed red; he was employing the kink you’d tried last week. As his hand contacted your ass cheek, you let out a yelp, but you loved the pain that his heated hand brought to you, because fuck, it was him. You knew a fire-powered spank would leave a mark, but you loved that it was his mark.

You then felt his cock, just as hard as before, nestle between your pussy lips.

“Still dripping for me, huh?” Todoroki asked, and you watched in the mirror as he leaned his torso back in order to watch his cock slip into your cunt.

“Shi — i — t,” He groaned and you gave a high moan as he bottomed within you. His meaty cock made you feel so damn full, you could happily sit on it all day. Shit, right now you were essentially trapped with it inside of you, as he was gripping the handcuff chain tight to keep you from rebounding away.

“Your cock feels amazing, stretching me out like it is,” You breathed. You knew how closer to the edge the praise sent him.

He pulled out and gave a heavy, fast thrust inwards, letting himself sink all the way into your pussy with another deep moan. “Y/n, you feel so fucking good. I feel like I could come right now.”

You watched him thrust in again with the mirror, loving the way his abs and pecs flexed as he pushed into you, the way his chain rested on his muscles. When he pulled out again, he looked back into the mirror to meet your eyes.

“But I won’t cum. I’m not done with this cunt yet.”

You shuddered at the intensity of his words. “Fuck me harder, Shoto,” You said breathily.

Slowly, his pace picked up. He was gaining momentum, steadily pumping that thick cock into you, and you could feel him at your center with each thrust, and you watched as he bit his lip and flashed his teeth in frustrating lust as he thrusted.

He maintained a steady speed, not one of a man who was about to come, but of a man who was loving the pussy he was fucking. You continued to watch him and to feel him fuck you simultaneously, letting out especially loud moans whenever he bumped your cervix or g-spot.

“Yes, Shoto, you look so fucking good!” You moaned as you gazed over his muscled, gleaming body, and he let his heated hand fly onto your ass a few times.

“God, I love the way you tighten up when I spank you,” He said, slowing his pace momentarily. As he slowly thrusted inwards, he placed a sharp smack on your asscheek, and another. He must not have been lying about how good it felt, because he growled and immediately sped up once more to a destructive pace.

He reached around and grabbed a fistful of your hair in his palm. He now held total control of your body; the two reigns he held, your hair and your handcuffed arms, allowed him to fucking ravage your pussy.

You were now unleashing endless moans, feeling your pussy close up as his cock continuously slammed onto the sweet spot deep within you, and feeling his hips bump your ass. He’d never fucked you this deep before.

“I’m — I’m gonna cum!” You could barely breathe out the words. His dick was so deep you couldn’t think straight. All you could feel was Shoto.

“Cum for me, baby,” Shoto growled, relentlessly fucking you. The sound of his skin slapping on yours, of his dick slamming into your juicy cunt, of his deliriously luscious and sexy breaths leaving him, was all you could hear.

You let out a moan that increased in pitch until you were nearly screaming.

“Just like that, baby,” Shoto groaned, gripping your hair tighter as you rode out your high on his cock. His balls were tightening and his face was heating as well as his own orgasm rapidly approached. He continued fucking you as deep as your clenching pussy would allow him — fuck he was so close —

With one final deep, hard push into you, you watched in the mirror as Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed, and you felt his cock begin to twitch and release his cum into your cunt. You moaned — your pussy could not be more stuffed — and Shoto groaned above you, his grip on your cuffs and your hair trembling.

Finally, he relaxed, letting you gently down onto the mattress. He nearly keeled over with pleasure, and sat to the side before undoing your handcuffs.

“Mm, that was so good.” You panted, sliding onto your back, eyes closed. You could feel his cum dribbling out of you at that moment.

Shoto peered between your legs, and you watched the focused expression on his face as he pushed it back into you with a finger before bringing the finger to your lips to suck on. After removing it, he placed a kiss to your lips and a much gentler hand in your hair.

“It was amazing.” Shoto said. His voice was so deep that it gave you butterflies.

“I’ll go grab you one of my sweatshirts and we can cuddle, would you like that?” He offered, getting up from the bed.

You sighed in pleasure. “Yes. But . . . Next time, you’re wearing the cuffs.”

You heard his deep chuckle from across the room.

“Fine, give me twenty minutes and I’ll put them on.”

#todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto #bnha #mha #mha shut #shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #bnha shoto x reader #bnha todoroki #shoto x reader #smut

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themadhatterofficial · 3 years

Text

Eyes, Bodies, and Potions

The Golden Trio was always meant to take down Voldemort.

Perhaps, if things happened a bit differently, if the pieces managed to link together in another way...

(Dark Golden Trio AU)

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

Harry Potter only knew violence growing up.

The young boy hidden away in the cupboard under the stairs would sit in fear and anticipation as heavy footsteps pounded above and rattled the dust onto his tiny bed. He had a single mirror in his cupboard that Aunt Petunia had given him as a Christmas present after his uncle had slammed his head into it hard enough to cause cracks to run through it like an overzealous spiderweb.

No matter how many times he tried to avoid it, Harry always ended up watching himself in the dingy glass. In anything remotely reflective, really.

Everywhere Harry went, people commented on his eyes. On how pretty they were, how they made him look respectable, how much they stood out against the darkness of his skin and the heavy bangs that resembled a rat's nest at the best of times.

It had jump started Harry's obsession.

Everywhere he went, Harry would stare at eyes. Brown ones, blue ones, grey ones, green ones, and every mix you could think of. He liked the emotions that ran through them, how they told stories that faces and bodies would never reveal.

He could see the happiness when a couple held hands.

He could see the fear when a man gripped his girlfriend's arm a little too tight.

He could see the joy in a father's eyes when his baby snuggled further into his neck.

The fear was nice sometimes. When it was someone who deserved it. Like when Dudley's friend Henry punched Harry hard enough to take out his baby tooth and split his lip. Harry had launched forward and kept hitting and hitting and hitting until Henry was crying too hard to make noise and he was covered in reds and blues that never blossomed on Harry's deep skin.

(Henry's eyes were grey. They were scared. It was nice.)

(Henry's parents also moved their whole family far away from the neighborhood the very next week. Harry chalked it up to coincidence.)

Harry liked the happiness a lot more than the sad or scared ones. He liked sitting in the little park far from the Dursleys' and letting the long cuffs of his torn hand-me-downs scrape below the swing, watching the happy families laugh and jump and run around with one another without caring about anything else.

For as long as Harry could remember, he had wanted that. He longed for it. He would sit in his tiny cupboard on the last night of July and beg and plead whoever was up there for someone to find him. At first, Harry wished for someone to take him away. Now, Harry would be content with someone approaching him to just talk. It was a far-fetched dream, something he only dared to dream of in the quiet darkness when he pretended that his parents weren't worthless drunks who cared for the bottle more than their son. That he had a mother that took the time to tame his bird's nest of a head and read to him at night, that he had a father who taught him how to play chess and cook breakfast for his mum in bed, and maybe even an uncle that bought him secret ice creams that ruined his dinner and taught him how to talk to pretty girls at school and maybe even a sister who laughed too loud and grinned too wide and let him wrap her up in soft blankets when she was too cold to ask for it.

But for now, Harry would settle for their eyes.

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

Ron Weasley, in Ron Weasley's opinion, was not very special.

He was the sixth child of seven in his impoverished family. He got hand-me-down everything, and was expected to do as well as his brothers, if not better. It was nothing special if he could do this, because Percy could too, and if he could do that, well, Bill already had years before.

Sometimes Ron wished he was an only child, if only for the attention he would have.

(He never wanted his siblings dead, Merlin no. He loved them all and wished them the best, even if he was a bit jealous of them.)

Perhaps this was why he was often seen hanging on Harry or Hermione's arm, spending every bit of his free time with the first things that were his, and only his.

They weren't things, and Ron knew this. He knew that they were people, and he knew that they were their own people. He never claimed them aloud, and especially didn't hint at it to Harry. He was already treated like a Thing by his muggles. They locked him away and took him out when he was of use. Ron wanted to be with him all the time, even when he didn't listen and remained as stubborn as an ass.

But they were still Ron's. He didn't like when Fred or George or Ginny would try to covet Harry's attention, or tease Hermione until all the blood rushed up to darken her cheeks to a deep blue. She would hide behind her massive hair that curled around her wildly in a way that she wasn't.

Later, Hermione would shyly admit that she'd never felt wanted, and that she quite liked the way Harry and Ron so openly expressed their need for her. Harry would say the same.

Ron Weasley liked watching people.

He saw everything he needed to from a distance, even if he wanted to get closer. He liked watching quidditch especially, how their bodies moved so gracefully and held no hesitation in their gestures. (This did not extend to his brothers and sister. He actually didn't like watching them in particular, even if he could never pry his eyes away from Harry twisting and turning and reaching as far as he could.)

Every quidditch match was exciting. Ron would emulate certain things, ever since he could remember. Bill's easy-going swagger. Charlie's big hand movements. Percy's chin tilt he did when he was trying to make a point, or the seamless weaving and bobbing Fred and George had mastered together. He'd mostly out grown it before Ginny came along, but sometimes he even ran his hand through his hair like she did. His dad did it, and it was a small thing the three of them shared, and Ron coveted it.

The most ingrained thing about Ron was probably his tactile nature. His mum was the same way. They were probably the most expressive, always ready to give out a hug and kiss on the cheek or just to hold someone.

This came in handy later in life.

Hermione likes to stand on her toes.

It's a small thing that he's sure she isn't really aware of. She'd mentioned offhandedly that her parents had forced her to do ballet when Ron mentioned it, and it became more and more clear. When she stretched she pointed her toes perfectly, and when she turned to speak she'd often spin around on the tips of her feet. It was endearing, especially even when she went on her long winded tangents about anything and everything.

When she talked, her smile lit up the room and her hands flitted about excitedly. When she saw something that caught her eye, Hermione would stretch out her neck and raise her eyebrows high into her uneven bangs.

Hermione was also very awkward. She hid behind her big kinky curls, which Ron soon learned were in that weird frizzy stage because of repeated failed attempts at straightening it. (He quite liked her hair just the way it was, but Hermione didn't, which was disappointing.) Ron would shake his head and teasingly pull on one of her coils so it bounced tightly. She would flush, and when they first met she absolutely despised it. It wasn't until they'd known each other for so long that she would allow him to do so. He was the only one other than Harry that was allowed. Soon after she began to grow comfortable with his casual touches.

So when she would awkwardly put her hand forward to shake Ron's, he would push it away in order to wrap her up tightly in his arms. She'd tense at first before hugging back tentatively, then tightly, as if she never wanted him to let her go.

Harry tugs at his sleeves when he gets nervous.

He does it a lot, actually. When they ride up, he pulls the cuffs down to grip in his palms.

When adults speak to him, he squeezes himself inward to make himself smaller. When they raise their voices, his head drops down ever so slightly, as if it's an instinct he's trying to fight. When they get too close, his body twitches away as if it has a mind of its own.

Ron soon noticed that Harry couldn't handle yelling. Ron and Hermione began to fight about Merlin-knows-what one night by the lake. It wasn't until Ron's voice was slightly hoarse and he paused to take a breath that he remembered that Harry was still there. He was sitting on the damp grass, completely still with his hands muffling his ears and his head tucked between his knees.

Ron always warns Harry before reaching to him. Always asks if its okay. It's soon obvious to Ron that no one has truly hugged Harry, and does so whenever he has the chance. And Harry absolutely clings onto Ron, which is really nice. No one's really done that. His siblings weren't always the touchy-type and his parents were always too busy with this or that to dedicate so much time to the Least Favorite.

(Ron knew that they loved him. He never doubted that. But he was nothing if not a realist.)

But Ron's favorite thing was when Harry would jump on him. Harry never talked much unless one prompted him endlessly, and it was even rarer for him to initiate a conversation or reach out for anyone or anything. So when Harry would get so excited he tackle-hugged Ron into the grass or the floor of the common room, and Hermione would burst into giggles beside them, he'd feel his heart burst open for these two people that truly appreciated him.

Watching people fall was pretty fascinating.

Their bodies would turn and prepare for the inevitable, bracing in fear before the impact came.

They showed something real, in those moments. The shock, the resignation, pure, unadulterated fear that overtook their entire bodies dominated Ron's attention when it happened. And when the fear happened, he saw who they were. How one handles the fear, the harsh reality ready to break their nose it, shows who they truly are.

When Hermione fell into the Devil's Snare, and Ron and Harry were stuck in the stage of fear, he could see Hermione's brain turn over. He saw the way she went straight from the fear to the calm determination of someone who was not ready for the end. He could see the clear fuck you on her face before she sunk below the vines.

When Harry's broom began to shake and throw him off in a violent rage, Ron saw the fear. He saw the clear fear outline every bone of his body before his grip tightened and his body swung upwards. He could see the resignation, and he could see the acceptance of what would happen. But that wasn't standing out as much as the look that overtook his entire face. He could hear it from the stands, the way he was telling himself - not without a fight.

Ron quite liked the fear. He liked seeing them panic and squirm. He liked knowing who they were, if only for a moment.

When he punched Goyle in the face, he saw it. When he beat him over and over in the empty corridor, Ron knew. He didn't have that fight in him, the way his best friends do. He was pitiful, really. Ron felt no sympathy afterwards, merely watched as the larger boy scrambled away bloody and terrified.

And later, when Ron let Harry bandage his knuckles in a way that no eleven year old should be able to do with such ease, he watched the blood swirl down the drain with morbid fascination.

His knuckles were swollen and bruised, and Harry was endlessly careful with them.

Goyle had gotten a good punch in, and Hermione's hand flitted around his cheek worriedly for a good two minutes before calming down.

And the next day, when Goyle's bruises were yellow with some kind of accelerated healing potion, Ron was quite disappointed that the colors had left so quickly. He felt put-out, robbed even, of the satisfaction he'd wanted. That he'd earned.

But when their eyes met, and Goyle flinched to look down with shameful fear, Ron decided that he could settle for that.

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

Hermione Granger had always been a smart girl. It was something she had always prided herself in. Top of her class, always on time, always perfect.

Her parents had made sure of that. The Grangers would not permit their only child to fail. They refused to have a fuck up for a daughter. It would disgrace them beyond belief, leaving the family humiliated and shame-faced for all of the world to see.

Hermione Granger was used to the low expectations. She had long since grown accustomed to people looking down on her. From her buck teeth, to dark skin, to her frizzy hair, not many expected much from her.

They were proper people, the Grangers. Practical and no-nonsense types that expected their child to achieve a level of success that they were never able to reach.

So it was quite a shock when one day a severe-looking woman appeared on their doorstep in a tall pointy hat and bright green bathrobe that smelled faintly of cat treats.

Hermione had had an inkling about the magic. Strange occurrences, things that logic simply could not explain.

"It snowed once," she had murmured under her breath.

The three adults stopped their snapping, which had been quickly escalating into a fully-blown argument, to look towards the girl.

"What was that?" the professor had sniped quickly.

Hermione looked towards her parents, their lips pressed together tensely as they stared down their daughter through narrowed eyes.

"It snowed," Hermione'd said a bit more clearly. "When... when I read Narnia." She barely kept from flinching when her mother's fist clenched at the mention of one of those horrid fairy tales, but Hermione looked down and twisted her lips from side to side.

"Why is that?" the woman had asked a touch less harshly.

"In the story the kids went through a wardrobe and found a place where it snowed all year round. I just wanted to visit somewhere... somewhere different. Like..."

When Hermione made no effort to finish the professor made the effort to kneel before her to match their heights.

And slowly, the professor's lips began to pull up ever so slightly into an encouraging (and slightly conspiratorial) smile. "Somewhere magical?"

"Yes," Hermione had breathed out emphatically, nodding her head so vigorously that the beads in her weighty braids clanked together loudly enough to echo around the silent room.

"Well, I think that I may be able to make that happen."

To be entirely truthful, Hermione didn't much like school.

She loved learning. She had always loved learning. It was her favorite thing in the whole world. But the pressure, both from the school and her family, made Hermione want to tear her hair out until there was nothing left. Her parents were terrible about it. They monitored her grades as closely as humanly possible. And it was't enough to just do good, or great, or perfect. She had to be better than everyone in anything and everything she did.

Hermione had done ballet when she was little. It wan't her favorite thing in the world, but it had been fun.

But she wasn't The Best.

So her parents made her quit.

Harry and Ron were different than most.

They were her friends. Her real friends. Most people sneered at her in class when her hand always shot up and she jumped at the chance to answer every question she could and fight to be the first one to demonstrate how much better she was than them. (There had been a period of time where Hermione had stopped doing so. Her parents found out. She began raising her hand again.)

Her boys sometimes did that. When Hermione got overexcited and cut off the teacher Harry would sometimes hide his face with his hand or Ron would groan and roll his eyes. But the second someone else said something to her, they would jump at the chance to defend her and take no prisoners.

The three of them were family. A real family. Not like at home where dinner was tense and silent while Hermione's father picked apart every single sentence of her school progress reports, or when Harry would talk about his relatives in quivering whispers before quickly changing the subject before they could ask about his over-sized clothing and the gruesome pattern of raised skin on his arms.

Hermione laughed more with them in her first year at Hogwarts than she ever had in her entire existence. While Harry had a strange kind of gasping laugh that she could hardly distinguish between joy or pain, Ron's was full-bodied and bright. But they were both amazing. They sounded happy. Safe. Kind of like home.

She had never been so happy in her life.

Hermione loved magic.

It had a strange set of rules to it. Strange. Different. But soon enough, Hermione understood it.

Her favorite was potions. There was a definitive way to it, logic that was always followed. Hermione could follow a method and it would be perfect. Action and reaction. That was all it was. Action and reaction. Action and reaction.

(Snape was obviously terrible. He made her face burn and tears spring to her eyes. But she couldn't stop raising her hand or jumping in to answer questions. She just couldn't. If it got back to her parents it would be a thousand times worse than anything Snape could ever do to her.)

But outside of the classroom, Hermione fell in love with the method of potion-making. It was soothing and gentle and welcoming and just so perfect for her. Outside of the dankness of the dungeons and the harsh bearing of Severus Snape's beady black eyes, Hermione Granger sat in the sunlight of the second floor girls' lavatory and created masterpieces. She used her tools to create art. From potions of brilliant greens to velvety purples to bright blues so clear that she could see the bottom of the cauldron through. It was stunningly beautiful. And it took her breath away.

But she wasn't The Best.

(not yet, at least)

It was early on a Saturday morning.

The sun streamed through the tall window of the second floor girls' lavatory and landed on Hermione and her cauldron at the perfect angle. It was a potion recipe that Harry had found in the restricted section and given to her. (Normally, Hermione would never condone breaking rules. At school, no less. But this was a Special Circumstance.) It caused the consumer's heart to beat so fast that the blood couldn't make it through the arteries quickly enough, causing them them to clog and trigger a heart attack.

Hermione hadn't planned on actually giving it to anyone. It would be disgustingly terrible. To cause someone's death...

But then, the colors were so pretty. Swirling pinks and purples moving like waves crashing upon the sand, splashing against the sides of the cauldron of their own accord. Her eyes traced their movements, transfixed into a deep state of pure calm.

She didn't even notice when some of it had splashed up over the lip of the cauldron. It landed on the tiles with a decisive plink that echoed in the silence.

Hermione hadn't seen the rat until it was too late. She watched in horror as the small rodent moved towards the spilled potion, sniffing at it before licking hesitantly.

Before she could yell for it to stop, the rat began to convulse on the dirty floor. Hermione could do nothing but watch as the poor thing's body shook violently, squealing pathetically and rolling around in excruciating pain.

And then the blood.

There was so much in its tiny body. It was actually quite shocking. Spilling from everywhere from its eyes to its mouth to its ears. It was a horror scene - party of one.

Hermione wanted it to stop. She wanted to save the little rat. It was cruel and unkind and unfair and...

Disgustingly beautiful.

The vividness of its blood threw her off. It was smooth and thick, running through the grooves of the tiles in gentle rivulets akin to that of the rivers that carved through the Forest of Dean.

It was very different to see this kind of pain tearing its course through something. It felt almost satisfying to watch. Like she was seeing her own pain manifest itself within a tiny conductor, forcing everything inside of her inside of it.

And it was Hermione that was doing it. Hermione's potion. Her own knowledge and power transferring into another living breathing thing, wreaking its havoc as it went.

Action and reaction.

Sometimes Hermione would watch others in school with the same lens that she had watched that rat. She would bore holes through the side of Pansy Parkinson's head or clench her hands to avoid tilting the entirety of her scalding potion down the back of Professor Snape's robes during class.

(She would fantasize about it. Sometimes Hermione felt like a monster for doing so, but then she would look at Ron when he dug his fingertips into the desk and glare at Draco Malfoy with a barely concealed type of rage that she Knew meant that they were the same.)

(Harry was a little different. He didn't always have that kind of rage inside of him. But he would watch when Ron would fight others, untamed and wild in every aspect. And it would glimmer behind the vibrant green of his irises that Hermione had yet to recreate with one of her potions.)

Hermione wanted to do it. She wanted to drip just the littlest bit of her art onto their wrists. Just a drop. She wanted to watch their skin shrivel and burn, eaten away by the nature of her poison. She wanted to hear them scream. She wanted them to feel what she feels, if only for a bit. She wanted to paint with their blood, tracing sigils of old into her skin and practicing the kind of magic that would have her mother fainting on the front lawn and her father puking into the ugly orange tulips tracing the stark white walls of her pretty little muggle home.

But for now, she'd have to settle for the rats haunting the bathroom floor.

#Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #black hermione granger #INDIAN HARRY POTTER #dark au #dark golden trio #golden trio #not v happy #and ive brought you mur #thank you #mur-dur!#JUDAS

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celosiaa · 3 years

Note

Hi! I am obsessed with your writing, it is so so endlessly good and you. Are so. Talented. Anyway, please feel free to ignore this, I won’t expect a reply, but prompt idea of someone (probably martin) giving jon a shoulder rub, and it giving jon flashbacks to his kidnapping and him very not being ok. Could take place either soon after the kidnapping, or like in post canon (maybe even with emma?) Again feel free not to reply, just wanted to share and tell you how much I love your work❤️❤️

hi friend!!! thank you so so much for this wonderful prompt!! and your sweet message <3 I apologize that this has taken so long, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! and I hope you’re having a wonderful day!

CW PTSD, flashback, panic attack

Quiet.

Peace of solitude, silence, loneliness has always been a bit of what Martin has missed from his life. He needs it as much as the sun, as much as the breath in his lungs. Sometimes the lingering ache of it all leaves him hurting—hurting over the fact that he shouldn’t want this; he should want to be, not to fade. He should be over this by now.

But, Jon. Jon understands. He understands that need for something you do not want better than just about anyone. So when Martin needs to disappear, or begs for quiet, or takes time to meditate and drift away, Jon always keeps his worry under what he surely thinks to be a careful façade. Martin sees right through it, of course. And loves him all the more for it every time.

Days like this should build up his reserve—the quiet days, where Jon is either gone, or busy, or engrossed in a novel Martin would never dream of picking up. But something about this is off, and Martin knows it.

He knows it by the way that Jon has barely shifted positions at his desk for many hours, other than to unfold and refold his legs under himself. Surely they must be aching—Martin knows they must. So many hours in one place tend to make Jon restless, his muscles cramping and his mind running wild. Sometimes in a good way—Martin is now accustomed to listening to very excited, lightning-fast monologues about whatever Jon had found himself fascinated by that day. But sometimes...sometimes, in other ways as well. Other ways not altogether pleasant.

Martin is certain this is one of the latter type.

From his vantage point in the kitchen, Martin can see the screensaver on Jon’s laptop running across it. Jon is working on nothing at all—has not been working on anything for nearly an hour now, and yet has not moved. It sets Martin’s teeth on edge, this sort of thing. When Jon appears as himself, is present as himself—and yet, not quite. Never quite there, not really. It reminds him of the early days after they had put the world back together, coming up on five years ago now. Days when Jon was drifting…and Martin had never been sure if he would come back.

Stop thinking stop stop

Don’t go there. Not now. Focus.

His head feels heavy with fog when he stands, as it often does—and he makes his way over to Jon, careful to step a bit heavier than usual so as to give some warning of his approach.

“Jon love?” he murmurs, keeping his tone as light as possible, much lighter than he feels. “You alright?”

The tiniest of jumps, barely noticeable. Jon freezes in place for a moment, before attempting to turn his head to look at Martin—and coming to a sudden stop with a groan, and a hand pressed into his shoulder.

“Hmm. Martin.”

His voice is rough from disuse, and he lets out a dry cough as Martin kneels slowly beside him.

“What are you working on?” he asks, trying the gentlest approach he can think of—and trying not to feel affronted when Jon flinches against the fingertips brushed against the back of his arm.

“I-I—erm—I was just…” He trails off as he realizes his laptop is asking him to enter the password again. “Ah. Well. Nothing at all, it seems.”

With a long sigh, Jon tips his head against the back of his chair—or rather, he tries. The motion seems to pull something uncomfortably in his neck, and he hisses painfully as he replaces his hand over the angle between his neck and shoulder.

“Alright, love? Can I help?”

“Ah, it’s—it’s fine, I-I did this to myself, I—”

“Jon.”

“—should get back to work—”

“Jon.”

Something of it seems to cut through his downward spiral, and he manages to meet Martin’s eyes at last—the shadows beneath his eyes outlining the exhausted desperation bubbling just behind them. For what, or who, or when, Martin cannot be sure—but he is sure that he needs to coax Jon out of whatever space he’s found himself in today.

“Does your neck hurt?” he asks, creasing his brows together when Jon attempts to shake his head, and winces instead. “Right, stupid question—how bad is it?”

“It’s fine—it’s nothing, it’s my fault anyway.”

It drives Martin mad how much Jon still wants to blame himself for everything, even the mundane, even things that require none. Especially things that require none. But, instead of putting a voice to this unsolvable frustration, Martin softens for the moment, stretching out a hand to cover Jon’s own where it still rests on the side of his neck.

“Want to try a little massage?” he asks, pressing a small kiss to Jon’s temple. “Maybe it’ll loosen you up enough to turn your head, at least.”

“Hmm,” is the only reply Jon gives, eyes falling closed against the gentle warmth of Martin’s hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Chuckling lightly, Martin stands behind him and gets to work.

He rests his fingertips lightly on the sides of Jon’s neck at first, being sure to always remain toward the back and away from his scar. Slowly, he begins to work his fingers a bit deeper into the muscle, traveling from the nape of his neck and down, as Jon unbuttons just the top of his shirt and shrugs the material off his shoulders. It warms Martin’s heart immeasurably to see him beginning to relax under his hands. And more importantly, gives him a wonderful idea for how to make this even better.

“One moment, love,” he whispers next to Jon’s ear, pressing another quick kiss to his temple before stepping away to root through his desk for the massage oil he’d been given by a friend. Sure, maybe he’s never used it, but…lavender certainly sounds like a relaxing smell, and god knows that Jon needs as much assistance with that as he can get.

“Alright, here we are.” He uncaps the bottle and holds it in front of Jon for him to smell. “What do you think?”

Jon blinks in surprise at the new smell, then furrows his brows.

“Wh—what is this?”

“Massage oil. I’ve never used it but—well, now’s as good a time as any, right?”

“I-I…I suppose so.”

The hesitance in Jon’s voice sends up warning flags in Martin’s mind at once—and he steps to the side to get a better look at Jon’s face. A bit glazed, vacant, as he turns the bottle of massage oil over and over in his hands.

“Is something wrong?” Martin asks, cocking his head to one side in confusion. “If you don’t like the smell, I won’t use it.”

“No no, it’s not that,” he assures, closing his eyes as if to clear some picture displayed in front of them. “I don’t know. I—erm. You can try it.”

“Jon…”

“Try it, please try it. It—it should be nice.”

For all that he insists, something about this gives Martin pause. Something in his voice, his body language doesn’t sit right at all—

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, setting a gentle hand on his knee as he crouches to his eye level. “What’s going on?”

A few tense moments go by before Jon responds, the knee beneath Martin’s hand beginning to bounce with an all-too-familiar surge of anxiety. Face going ashen, he attempts a strained, awful sort of smile.

“S-sorry, I—sorry, it’s fine, just—ah.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, love—is it the smell that bothered you? Can you tell me what’s happening?

His leg bounces harder, the other one beginning to join it. As he meets Martin’s eyes again, it is with a particular brand of shock and horror that tells Martin he is barely hanging on to his surroundings. It twists as a knife in his gut, pulling at his insides as his new task shifts to keeping Jon with him.

“Alright, love. You’re here with me, okay? Here, take my hand—”

He extends his own trying to pull Jon’s away from the white-knuckle grip on the arm of his chair—and Jon takes a gasping inhale, clutching at his neck in panic.

“Woah woah, Jon—”

“STOP stop stop please stop—”

Reeling from the sudden shouting, Martin pulls his hands away from Jon as if they had been burned, falling backwards from his crouch and onto the floor in alarm. The lavender oil in Jon’s hand skitters away across the floor as it slips from his hold. Pounding, pounding, pounding is Martin’s heart in his chest, adrenaline overpowering his thoughts for a few moments before he can really take action. What had happened? What had he done to make Jon feel so unsafe?

“Mm—ha—ah—”

“Hold on love, hold on,” he soothes, reaching out a hand of comfort, before thinking better of it. “I’ll be back, just hold on.”

Lifting himself as quickly as possible from the floor, Martin strides quickly towards their refrigerator, yanking open the freezer door and grabbing an ice cube for Jon to ground himself with. Or at least, so he hopes.

What happened?

What did I do? Did I say something?

Did I—

Oh.

Oh god, no.

Heart twinging with guilt, he hurries back to his husband’s side, gently slipping the ice cube back into his palm with as little skin contact as possible. If he feels like he’s back there, back with the clown, with unfamiliar hands of plastic and metal touching him, preparing him, readying him for the harvest—then Martin knows even his own familiar hands will be lost among the noise of the others. Interpreted as a threat.

God, Jon. What have I done?

“Here, sweetheart. I’m right here. You’re here with me.”

The words seem unable to reach him in this state—he blinks rapidly, staring into something unseen, unheard—his entire body trembling with adrenaline, fear, anticipation…and god knows what else. Aching, aching is Martin’s chest as he watches it all unfold, knowing that there is nothing to do but wait for the flashback to end and hope his suffering is as brief as possible.

“N-no—Nikola—”

“You’re here with me, Jon. You’re safe.”

“S-stop, don’t—touch me!”

Oh, Jon.

A few more seconds of true unawareness—before a bit of movement from his right pulls Martin’s gaze down towards the hand which holds the ice cube. As he begins to roll it around, Martin prays the sensation of it will be enough of an anchor this time, that this will be the end of it. That nothing will launch him back into the panic, just as his breathing begins to slow. As a precaution, Martin grabs the small vial of lavender oil from the carpet, shoving it into his pocket and out of sight.

“Jon? You back with me?”

“…mmm,” he hums, after a few moments’ delay. His eyes slip closed as he attempts to control his breathing, still running the ice between his fingers while his entire frame trembles.

“Alright,” Martin murmurs, coming to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “I’m right here. I’m not gonna touch you, but I’m right here.”

Eerie stillness hangs heavy in the space between them, all silence save for the shuddering of Jon’s body against the chair and the scant air moving through his lungs. And oh, how Martin wants to reach for him—but knows of course he cannot, not until it’s passed a bit, not until Jon remembers where he is. When he is. It cracks in Martin’s chest, spidering through his heart and lungs the longer the silence holds.

Come back.

I’m not going to leave you.

“Mmm,” Jon echoes his earlier hum, leg beginning to bounce again, stocking feet curling into the carpet. “I’m—here. Here.”

“Yes, you’re here. Here with me,” Martin breathes, nearly crying with relief as tears begin to slip down Jon’s face. “Do you know where?”

“Home.”

His voice cracks in the middle, forcing a shuddering inhale; a broken sob of an exhale as at last he leans forward, bracing his head in his hands.

“Martin.”

“I’m here, love. Home with you.”

“I can’t—” He breaks off to inhale sharply. “Can’t feel my legs, Martin, please—”

“Okay, alright, love. Head between your knees—you’re gonna be alright.”

Jon obliges at once, sinking lower, deepening his breaths, following Martin’s careful pattern toward some semblance of calm. Not quite there, and will not be for some time. The knowledge of it sits heavy in the back of Martin’s throat, and he swallows angrily at it. This is his fault; he should have seen this coming, should have spared a single thought for the wellbeing of his husband and now he cannot even comfort him—

A trembling hand suddenly brushes against his arm, searching. Asking for him—searching for his anchor. After all this time…after everything.

Martin can no longer keep the tears back—and does not want to.

“Oh, darling,” he whispers, pulling Jon into his chest at once, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his hair. “I’m here. I’m so sorry, love. So sorry.”

“Martin.”

“You’re safe. I’m here.”

Jon buries his face into the soft knit of Martin’s jumper at his shoulder, slackening so deeply into his hold that Martin nearly topples over.

“I’m safe,” he echoes, muffled. “You’re here.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #hurt/comfort #jonmartin #cw ptsd #cw flashback #cw panic attack #if I need to tag this as anything else please please tell me!!#I know it's a bit heavy #my writing

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blindingdutchy · 3 years

Text

lamentation | FOUR

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,907

warnings: angst, talk of death/tragedy, a little fluff

18+!!! minors stay away

At school the following week you were more than a little embarrassed. Peter Parker had seen you outside of school twice, and both times you'd been a crying, hysterical mess. Granted, you were a hysterical mess all the time anymore, but you usually kept that very well suppressed. Then along came Peter, and suddenly there was another person outside of your family who knew just how messed up you were.

He didn't mention it, which you were thankful for. You could see that he was concerned, though, with the way his eyes seemed to linger on you during every silence. His worry and pity only made you more resentful of the things you had shown him.

You'd shown up to school the morning after he showed up in your room, and you weren't at all surprised to see him lingering by your locker with an antsy jitter as he rocked back and forth on his feet. What had surprised you, though, was the fact that once he saw you were present he simply nodded at you and walked away. Was that his idea of a truce? An understanding?

Whatever it was, you had been thankful for it. The last thing you had wanted that morning was to talk to Peter, knowing he'd certainly want to talk about the events of the night, and you were relieved to get a little break from his constant presence. He still sat by you in classes, but he didn't pester with you his usual chatter, nor did he follow you to your locker even once.

The trend had continued for most of the week, and you had to admit you were starting to feel a little more isolated without his overbearing company. It was strange--you almost, emphasis on almost, missed him. You'd grown used to ignoring his borderline stalker-like tendencies, and now without him around to ignore, you felt lonely. Lonelier than you already had been, anyways.

At home, things were just as cold and distant. Your mother was in a slump again following your outburst at dinner, and you were beating yourself up over it endlessly. She'd been doing good, finally, and you'd just had to have gone and ruined all of her progress.

She'd been holed up in her bedroom ever since that evening. Not even your father was able to get her to let him in, and in turn he was banished to the sofa night after night. As such, you were feeling the ice from your mother and your father alike. You couldn't blame him, really, because the sofa was definitely not the most comfortable for sleeping.

It felt a little like your life was falling apart all over again since your birthday. The childish, bitter part of you wanted to blame Peter, because it would have been so easy to blame the only thing that had changed in your life, but you knew better. It was you. You were the cause for everything that was going wrong, and you didn't know how to stop it.

Why couldn't you just be better? The whole world was moving on, making progress, and yet you were stagnant. You didn't understand why you couldn't let go of all the heavy things holding you down, holding you back, but you just couldn't. Grieving her wasn't getting easier, and you didn't know how to try and make that change.

"Are you alright?"

Startled by the sudden return of Peter's voice, you jumped in your seat and blinked at him in surprise. It had been such a long week of near radio silence from him that you were shocked to be acknowledged by him, despite the fact that you'd been sitting beside him for the entirety of your Speech class. You'd almost started to wonder if maybe he was ignoring you, though you didn't exactly try to talk to him either.

Quietly, you mumbled, "Not really, but that's normal these days."

It was only then that you realized class was over, students packing up and filing out of the classroom eagerly in anticipation of the weekend. You'd been far more spaced out than you had thought--it felt like just moments ago you were sitting down and waiting for class to begin. You awkwardly began to pack up your untouched classwork and Peter did the same, neither of you quite sure what to say to the other.

Ever since she died, you had an uncanny ability to make any and every situation uncomfortable without really trying. It started with your inability to contain your emotions in response to the thousands of condolences you received over those first few days, and then the more you secluded yourself it only got worse. People looked at you strangely and whispered when they thought you couldn't hear them. They thought you were a ticking time bomb, and in a sense they were correct.

Maybe that was the reason you weren't quite as adamant about pushing Peter away as you were others. He didn't look at you that way, nor did he whisper hushed words about you that would surely make your ears burn when you overheard. Both times that he had seen you in a horrible state, he'd only looked at you with concern and worry. Not once had you seen him give you those all too familiar apprehensive stares, and you were grateful for it.

Realizing you were moving at a strangely slow pace, and Peter was anxiously waiting for you to finish, you cleared your throat and muttered, "Do you want to start the project tomorrow? Or tonight, if you're not busy."

"Um," Peter stammered, not bothering to hide his surprise at your offer, "sure. Tonight is fine if--if that's okay with you."

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment, neither of you quite comfortable with the sudden change in atmosphere. Zipping your backpack, you stated, "Yeah, great."

"Great!" Peter echoed, and you both turned and hurried away from each other in discomfort.

When you told your father that Peter Parker was coming over that night you weren't entirely sure what to expect. The reaction you received, however was so far off your radar it scared you a little. He'd nearly wept with joy, kissing your cheek and saying he was proud of you for making friends again, to which you retorted Peter wasn't your friend.

He could tell it was a lie, despite the fact that under normal circumstances Peter definitely wouldn't have been considered a friend. For you, now and after everything you'd been through, he was the closest thing you had to a friend, though. So, you resisted the urge to fight your father on the premise and let him run off to boast to your mother about it.

Even if you felt like you weren't making progress, it couldn't hurt to let your parents think that you were. You were trying, anyways, so you didn't feel quite as guilty about letting them read too much into things. You just hoped that they didn't get their hopes up too high, because there was still time for you to mess things up like you always did.

You spent the afternoon cleaning your room and wallowing in your anxiety. The project was something you were dreading starting, mostly because you knew it would bring up all sorts of negative memories and emotions for you, but also because you feared what Peter would think of you. Would he judge you for your opinions? Would he think you were bitter and ridiculous?

For awhile you contemplated all the ways you could try and lie to appease him, thinking of ways to keep your composure well enough to debate on behalf of superheroes. In the end, though, you knew it was impossible. Arguing against the Avengers was going to be hard enough in itself, let alone trying to pretend you were in favor of them. Was it too late to ask for an alternate assignment?

Peter Parker: hey i'm on my way

Peter Parker: if that's okay. if you're busy that's fine too

It was definitely too late to ask for an alternate assignment, and as you typed out your response you decided it was time for you to finally start trying to do better. You'd wished for things to be easier, to be better, for so long, yet you'd never put in any of the work to make it happen. It was time for that to change. You were going to do the project, fight your stance to Peter, and try your best to not ruin his opinion of you completely in the process.

You: yeah that's fine

You: my mom says you can stay for dinner

You: if you want... if not that's cool you probably have other things to do

Okay, you were definitely biting off more than you could chew. Reading over your awkward texts to Peter made you cringe in a bad way, and you felt nauseous with embarrassment. It was so, so unbelievably hard trying to be approachable after you'd spent the past year pushing everyone away. The fear of him rejecting you was sending shockwaves through your entire body, tingling your skin all the way to the tips of your toes.

To your relief, Peter responded to let you know he was okay with staying for dinner, and informed you that he was on his way. You shot off a remark about using the door this time, and then promptly threw your phone away in shame. What if he thought you were being rude instead of joking? Or worse, what if he knew you were joking and thought it was stupid? Socializing was a real drain on your energy.

By the time Peter arrived with a timid knock on your bedroom door, followed by your mother's coo, "Oh, honey, just go on in. She's never doing anything," you had successfully stressed yourself into oblivion. You were so consumed by your thoughts you almost didn't notice her throwing open your door with a beaming grin, but the sound of Peter's uncomfortable laughter snapped you out of your daze.

"Uh, hi." you squeaked, suddenly extremely self conscious of your bedroom. He'd seen it before, obviously, but this time it was actually swathed in lamp light and the evening sun. "You can sit."

Peter stood in silence, studying your room with an indecipherable look on his face for a long moment. "It's nice in here." he finally stated, dropping his backpack and letting that easy grin slip across his lips for the first time in the past week. It was incredibly relieving to see it, and you even found yourself relaxing a little.

He sat on the edge of your bed and both of you turned to your mother curiously as she continued to stand in your doorway with a tearful smile. Jumping in shock, she gasped, "Oh, right, right. I'll just be downstairs if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Peter."

With one last lingering gaze, your mother backed out of the room and shut the door. That was how you knew this was a special occasion in her eyes--what sane mother would ever shut her teenage daughter in a bedroom with a teenage boy willingly? It had been a long while since you'd genuinely felt embarrassed, but you couldn't help but to groan and cover your face at the whole situation.

Peter, however, seemed thoroughly amused by everything. "Your mom is a lot like my Aunt May." he mused, twinkling brown eyes trailing over every inch of your room, "Your room is huge. I think I could fit my entire bedroom in here three times and still have extra space."

"I used to share it with my sister."

He paled at your statement and stuttered, "Oh, shit, I'm so--I'm so sorry. I didn't know--"

"Peter, it's fine." you interrupted his frantic apology, and for what felt like the first time ever, you meant it.

It was fine. You didn't feel angry or bitter about the reminder of her disappearance from your life, and it was strange to you. You liked it, though, and it felt nice to talk about her without being bogged down by thousands of horrible thoughts and feelings.

Relaxing only slightly at your reassurance, Peter looked at you wearily as if he expected you to start crying or lash out at him. To his, and your own, surprise you gave a small smile. That still felt wrong; it didn't come very naturally to you anymore, but Peter seemed mesmerized by it none the less.

The sight of your permanent frown disappearing from your face gave him the confidence to move on from the uncomfortable topic, it seemed, because he grinned back and moved to unzip his backpack. "Okay, so, first thing's first--have you read the outline for the project? It's ridiculously broad and I've been struggling to think of any ideas to make our speech unique." he rambled, rifling through the crumpled mess of papers he retrieved from his bag until he finally found what he was looking for.

You slid your smooth, unwrinkled copy across the bed and asked, "Shouldn't we start with which stance we're taking?"

Peter blinked at you, and you tensed in preparation for the argument that was about to ensue. "What do you mean? I thought it was just a given that we were arguing in favor of the Avengers?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "I mean, I'm pretty sure everyone is going to."

"I wanted to argue in opposition, actually." you muttered, pursing your lips. "That could be what makes ours stand out, you know?"

His lips opened and closed like a fish for a few moments as he clearly struggled to formulate words, but eventually he sputtered, "Is that the only reason why? I don't know if I can argue against myself, considering I kind of am an Avenger."

You chewed at the inside of your cheek, already wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Letting Peter into your space, into your life, was already hard enough--adding conflict into the mix only made your heart rate pick up and your hands start to sweat. "I don't agree with the Avengers, no, but I have reasons. So, maybe you feel weird arguing against yourself, but I feel just as weird arguing in favor of something I don't agree with." you finally explained, and Peter's eyes widened incredulously.

"Why don't you like the Avengers?"

You nearly scoffed at the way he posed the question, as if he were asking you why you weren't a fan of a specific sports team. "I don't agree with them, there's a difference." you stated bluntly.

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans tensely, just as you did the same, and repeated, "Why, though? What's not to agree with? They--they've saved the world over and over again, isn't that impossible to not agree with?"

"At what cost, though?" you retorted, "Have you paid any mind to all the things they've destroyed? How many lives they've ended, or destroyed, in the midst of their heroic deeds?"

He seemed to get riled up by the bitter way you spat out the word heroic and scoffed, "Okay, but that doesn't just happen with the Avengers. The police do all of that and more on a much more frequent basis."

You raised your eyebrows challengingly, though you had to admit it was a fair counter argument. Clicking your tongue, you rebutted, "That's true, but at least sometimes there are consequences for that! With people like the Avengers there are no consequences. There's no justice, no opposition, nothing! They can do whatever they want, whenever they want, no matter who gets hurt in the process."

Peter stood from your bed abruptly, raking a hand through his hair and pacing around your room with red cheeks. You could tell very well that he was trying to control his temper, though he was about as intimidating as a mouse, and you took deep breathes yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him angry with you, but you weren't willing to back down about how you felt.

Inhaling slowly, he turned to you once again and said, "There are consequences. Don't you remember the Sokovia Accords? That whole fiasco was because of people who felt like you do."

The Sokovia Accords were a sham in your eyes. You remembered well when they had come about, and it seemed that they had changed nothing. For awhile most of the Avengers had gone off the grid, choosing to be international fugitives rather than sign, until the world needed them again. When Thanos had tried to wipe out half of all life in the universe they'd all come out of the woodwork again to save the day, and afterward it seemed as if all was forgotten.

There was no punishment for Captain America, Black Widow, none of them. They stopped another world ending event, causing plenty of damage in the process, and in turn were regarded as godly heroes once again. You sometimes wondered if the Accords were even a thing anymore.

"They felt that way for good reason!" you snapped before clearing your throat and trying to calm down again, "The Avengers have caused just as much devastation as they've prevented, maybe even more."

Peter jumped at your loud tone and snapped back, "What would you even know about it? I see it first hand every time, remember, so I know what happens! What do you know?"

"They killed my sister, did you know that?" you shouted, and he froze in place with wide eyes and parted lips, "Yeah, you know what happens, right? Well then you should know that I know damn well the damage the Avengers can do."

He sat back down on your bed wordlessly, watching you hesitantly as you tugged at a loose thread on your blanket anxiously. "I didn't know that, (Y/N)," he sighed, "I'm really sorry."

You didn't say anything for a long while, not trusting your voice to come out steady as you tried to hold back tears and also keep your temper in line. Talking about your sister's death wasn't something you really did, mostly because you knew it would cause you to break down. It hurt too much to think of it, let alone speak the words out loud.

But, as Peter continued to watch you as if expecting you to explode, you tried your best, "It was my fault. If it weren't for me we wouldn't have been at the park, and she--and she wouldn't have had to wait for me."

Peter reached out and gripped your hand firmly in his, causing you to momentarily short circuit in shock. You internally battled the conflicting urges to pull away or cling to him, but eventually you relaxed into the contact. Gently grasping his hand back, you let out a shaky breathe you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

It was grounding having his hand in yours. You didn't feel like you were at risk of drifting away into the void like you usually did; with his hand touching you, it felt as if you had a secure connection to the world again. It was a feeling you never wanted to lose again.

"It wasn't your fault, (Y/N)," he soothed, but you shook your head stubbornly.

Your eyes burned as you continued, "It was! She wanted to go shopping but I begged her to come to the park with me instead. I wanted to take some photos, and she'd argued with me for so long until she finally caved. A little bit after we got there we heard this really loud explosion, and I just--I just froze, and I..."

The words seemed to lodge in your throat, and your voice came out hoarse as you forced them out, "I froze staring up at Iron Man blasting some alien through the air, so stupidly shocked I didn't notice the building collapsing until she pushed me out of the way. I tried to grab her, but it was too late! A bunch of bricks hit her and--"

"Hey, hey, you don't have to tell me." Peter hushed you, gripping your hand tighter and scooting so close to you that his leg was pressed up against yours. Somehow the increased contact and warmth caused you to break, and suddenly you were crying in front of Peter Parker for the third time. You were three for three on crying in his presence, a thought that made you cry harder in embarrassment.

He didn't seem to care at all, though, as he took you by surprise and hugged you. "He just flew right by us. He didn't even stop when I screamed for help." you croaked, clutching Peter's shirt tightly in your fists as he held you, "I hate them. I hate them so much because it should be their fault, but I just keep blaming myself!"

You really hoped your mother wasn't eavesdropping, because she'd surely have wanted to talk to you about everything later. In all the time that had passed since your sister's death, you hadn't once retold the events of that day. You'd never spoken a single word about it, not even to the police who questioned you following the incident.

No matter how hard your parents had urged you to talk about it, or your therapist, you hadn't ever budged. It was your burden to bear, and you had never felt the desire or the strength to impart that load unto anyone else. Peter somehow broke down all of your walls without even trying, though, and it felt like a breathe of fresh air to finally get it all off of your chest.

There was no explanation for why he seemed to get you to do all the things you swore you never would without a word. It made no sense at all, and it scared you a lot, but you liked it. You craved the connection he gave you. Already, after such a short amount of time, you needed it. It would surely have crushed you if he decided not to care.

As your crying slowly subsided, Peter rubbed your back timidly and comforted, "It wasn't your fault, (Y/N), I mean it. It was just a freak thing, and you couldn't have done anything to stop it--sometimes bad things just happen, and they're inevitable."

"But, if I had just--"

He cut you off, "No, no buts. It wasn't your fault and you couldn't have prevented it. Trust me, I know exactly how you feel, okay? It wasn't my fault, and it wasn't your fault either."

You wanted to ask him how he could possibly know what you felt, or what he meant by saying it wasn't his fault, but it wasn't the right time. Pulling away and wiping your eyes, you sniffled, "I really need to stop crying in front of you. You're like an onion, you know? I just can't stop crying when you're around me."

Peter laughed loudly at your weak joke, and you couldn't fight back the quiet giggle the escaped your lips too. You hadn't laughed, genuinely laughed, in so long. "I like your laugh," he breathed, and your stomach erupted in the strangest fluttery sensation, "I like it a lot. You should never stop laughing."

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