#it sounds absurd but i swear it's delicious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kyouka-supremacy · 1 month

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Atsushi for the ask game.

ATSUSHI HERE WE GO THANK YOU FOR HEARING MY PRAYERS

Favorite thing about them: HIS SELFISHNESS. It's so so delicious to explore. Can you imagine a protagonist that saves others not out of simple good will, but because of egoistic self-preservation motives? It just feels counterintuitive for me lmao, and I found it quite messed up when I first watched the anime, but now it's so compelling to explore. His whole “everything I do is in order to gain the right to live” is crazy fashinating. Because lol, that's entirely nonsensical to me! There's no such thing as “gaining the right to live”; all humans, every person in the world is inherently deserving of life. All. No exception. So there's no level of “weak” or “worthless” that would make you lose that right. The fact that's it's a vision so distant and absurd from mine, idk, it just makes it very compelling to explore? “What if there was a little fucked up guy who believed the right to live had to be earned” just sounds like a very interesting premise.

Least favorite thing about them: When I first watched the anime, I think I found him low-key annoying? I just... Don't do very well with self-deprecating people and people who complain a lot in general, I usually suffer in silence and tend to (wrongly) assume others should do the same (this probably makes me sound pretty mean, I swear I try to be understanding irl). However, it doesn't bother me as much anymore, I simply think it's more of a distinctive trait of the character that makes him multilayered and unique. As of now, I can't think of anything I don't like about him if not the fact that I wish he'd rely on Dazai and others in general a little less. I know that has to do with his lack of self-worth, so maybe it makes sense,, but as of now he feels kind of stuck. I just wish we'd see him grow more on that front.

Favorite line:

There may be better ones, but I really like the delivery of this one.

brOTP: KYOUKA AND ATSUSHI they make me go insane. Already talked about this in the Kyouka post but just to reiterate: in my headcanon Kyouka really is the only person Atsushi feels genuine, selfless affection towards. It's very sweet. They're siblings. Kyouka's happiness is really important for Atsushi. They really do have that feeling of people who got out of an abusive environment learning what normality is supposed to be like together. I also really like how they compensate for what the other lacks, be it decisiveness and coolhead for Atsushi and empathy and positivity for Kyouka. Although plenty shipping them romantically, I really like platonic sskk and atsulucy as well.

OTP: I really like sskk eheh. I think they're neat. There's a thousand and one reasons why I find them pretty great. They're objectively the only reason why I got invested in bsd as well as the only thing that has me keep up with the franchise to this day. Right now, I feel like the one thing I really appreciate about them is how you can be the worst person in the universe and still somehow be loveable to someone. I think it's sweet. I also find it very fun and enterataining to explore their various soulmatism antics. They're both very complex and multilayered characters with something deeply wrong with how their minds work that makes them very fun to analyze both by their own and in the complexity of their relationship. Their collective story arc and canon relationship progression is extremely engaging and nice to follow, too. I love dazatsu and atsulucy as well!! Both were ships I wasn't particularly invested when I read the manga for the first time, but really grew in me in the last six months or so. I really dig akuatsulucy as well!!

nOTP: Nothing?

Random headcanon: He really likes reading. There's some real meta-analysis to be made here I actually had written this is probably not the right place to talk about, but in a work that's all about literature, he's the character who reads.

Unpopular opinion: He's the hardest character to write / characterize. That's why people should probably go easier on other fans when they mischaracterize him. He's just very multifaceted and genuinely hard to get. I keep seeing people being like “Stop babyfying Atsushi he's an independent adult!!” then turn around to say “he can't be shipped with Dazai because there's too much unbalance of power :// [somewhat implying Atsushi can't make free decisions for himself]”, or “Stop making of Atsushi a soft baby who never did wrong in his life!!!” then turn around to say “Atsushi is the happy puppy of the agency who gets treats and pats from everyone ^^ ” like. At least to me, a lot of people's arguments sound self-contradictory all the time; but that doesn't mean people should stop having fun and characterize the characters as they like! Just, let's stop being mean to each other and try to be a little more accepting towards others' takes, shall we? And yes that also includes letting people find Atsushi annoying if they find him annoying (although like, I've NEVER found anyone call Atsushi annoying ever, so really, what remote fandom spaces is everyone visiting? Why are you looking for clothes (good takes) at the soup store (Tik/tok I assume?) ).

Song i associate with them: Common World Domination by Pinocchio-P, HIBANA by DECO*27, Ghost Rule by DECO*27, so on and so forth.

Favorite picture of them:

Favourite panel from the manga:

Favourite illustration: Look, there's too many beautiful illustrations, I can't chose. Here's a very good one though.

Favourite illustration in the anime art style:

But also:

Favourite Mayoi card:

Send me a character?

#Btw I think the author does truly believe that people have to earn their own right to live and that #“people can't live unless someone tells them ‘it's okay to go on’ ”#Which is all sorts of fucked up for me and just goes to the encyclopedia titled Reasons Why I Strongly Disagree With Bsd Morals #But taking the character Atsushi on its own out of the context of which worldvies bsd does or doesn't enable.#I think it's very compelling to explore a character who thinks like that!!#Of course‚ feel free to disagree with my interpretation of the text #atsushi nakajima #bsd #mine #people asks me stuff #I feel like with this more than others I have more to say that just didn't come to me...#I have so many headcanons and opinions about Atsushi how can I only pick one!!!

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biaswreckingfics · 2 years

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The Campfire Scene - A Blurred Lines Short Story

*The campfire scene from Part 11 told from Sunwoo's perspective*

Pairing: Kim Sunwoo x Female reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Check out the completed series here!

Sunwoo quietly approaches the picnic table, eyes roving over the absurd amount of liquor bottles covering the top of it. Honestly, it looks like you're a bunch of alcoholics, and with the amount of liquid Eric is dumping in everyone's cups, Sunwoo is sure you're all well on your way there. Before Sunwoo can even reach for a cup, Eric is thrusting one of his concoctions into his hand.

"Just trust me, dude," Eric tells him the second Sunwoo opens his mouth to refuse it, "and here's one for your girl."

Sunwoo barely notices Eric shove the second cup in his hand because he's too pleased with the way Eric just described you. His girl? He loves the sound of that. He's nearly obsessed with the sound of that, actually. Sunwoo glances over to where you're sitting, and his heart does a flip. The stunning view behind you pales in comparison.

He notices the empty chair next to you and immediately moves for it. He wouldn't put it past one of the guys to sit next to you before he can just to mess with him. Plus, he missed hanging out with you, so he's excited to get over there.

He drops down into the chair, catching your attention, and hands the drink to you with a warning. "I have no idea how this tastes, but Eric made them, so assume there's a shit ton of alcohol in it."

You laugh and take the drink from him, but he notices your hesitancy. Sunwoo brings his cup to his lips and takes a sip. He's more than willing to be the tester for you, but the second the taste reaches his tongue, it's like he has stepped on a live wire. He has to stop his entire body from convulsing at the offensive taste.

Jesus christ," he blinks in shock before looking at you. "If you want a different drink, just say the word. I will not be offended."

You bravely take a sip - brave because he doubts he'd take a drink after seeing somebody react the way he had - and grimace. "Oh my god, it tastes like straight rubbing alcohol."

Sunwoo immediately takes your cup and dumps both of them out in the sand behind you. He swears you to secrecy before getting up and heading back to the drink table. He already has a drink in mind that he knows you'll like, so he quickly starts making it.

"They're delicious, right?" Eric cheerfully asks as he approaches the table. "Here, let me make you some more!"

"God, no," Sunwoo lightly shoves Eric away from his cups. "Also, have you ever heard of a mixer?"

Eric laughs, calling him a baby and grabbing a bottle of vodka before walking away. Sunwoo finishes making the drinks and heads back over to you. "Okay. Let's try this again. Now, I will be offended if you don't like this because this is my special blend."

"What's so special about it?" You cautiously bring the cup up to your nose and smell it. Sunwoo sees the relief on your face and smiles.

"It's made by me."

You laugh and take a drink. Sunwoo tries not to let his eagerness show, but he's dying to know if you like it. When you nod and give him a thumbs up, pride floods his senses. "This is really good. Thank you."

"Once again, your taste is impeccable."

You furrow your brows in a really cute way, and Sunwoo scolds himself to pay attention to your words and not the cute things your face does. "When was the first time it was impeccable?"

"When you said you liked me," he teases.

When you nearly down the entire contents of your cup in one gulp, he starts to second guess himself. A part of him wonders if it's because he just reminded you of Minjee outing you or if it’s because you're embarrassed that he knows about your crush. He severely hopes it's the latter because he doesn't want to mess up the good mood you have going on… Sunwoo still replays the moment he found out about your feelings for him. Minjee might've been a bitch for what she did, but she helped him realize he has a chance with you.

"So, how's having your own place?" You ask, pulling him from his thoughts.

A frown takes over his face. While he does like having his own space, he almost prefers the bedroom he borrowed at your apartment more. "It's not bad. I have room for all of my stuff, but it's quiet…"

When you agree, Sunwoo finds the confidence to say more. "I miss living with you. I had a lot of fun at your place. It was nice to hang out every day."

The stunned look on your face leaves him pleasantly surprised, and happiness fills his chest when you agree with him again. "It's certainly not the same without you there. I don't know what to do with myself half the time."

"I'm free this summer," he offers. "We can go back to our old ways of hanging out on your couch."

"Does that sound appealing?" You laugh, doubt clear on your features.

Yes. A thousand times yes. "Of course it does."

"Sunwoo!" Eric yells his name.

Sunwoo glances over at him to see what he wants. When he starts gesturing between his cup and the picnic table, Sunwoo fights the urge to roll his eyes. Whatever he's attempting to say or do, Sunwoo wants no part of it, and he feels relief when Sophia comes up and drags Eric away from the table. While Sunwoo's eyes follow them, they pass Younghoon and his girlfriend blowing on marshmallows beside the fire.

An idea sparks in his mind, and soon he's coming back with the ingredients for s'mores and two metal poles. What Sunwoo doesn't expect is for you to be so bad at roasting marshmallows. Who the heck burns three in a row? How did you even manage that?

Sunwoo reaches for your pole as you whack the burned goo into the fire pit. You laugh as Sunwoo insists on making your s’more for you, and Sunwoo fights a smile. He loves your laugh. Especially when he’s the cause.

"How do you like it?" He absentmindedly asks.

"How do I like what?" You reply in a mischievous tone.

Sunwoo's pretty sure his neck cracks with how fast he turns to face you. That tone and those words paired together? Not to mention the amused look on your face? "You're s’mores, you little shit."

You laugh, but keep up the flirty tone. "However you give it to me, Sunwoo."

Sunwoo's stomach clenches so hard it's almost painful. He works to get breath back into his lungs, but his heart is too ready to go into overdrive. You're a freaking vixen… How the hell is he going to make it through this trip without pouncing on you? Short answer: he won't.

Somebody yells his name again, but he doesn't even bother looking up this time. He just yells back an "I'm busy" and assembles your s’more. When he's done, he turns to face you and says, "Come here."

You attempt to reach for the s’more, but Sunwoo pulls it away from you. Oh, no. You want to mess with him? He's going to mess with you too. "Uh uh. You can't be trusted to not somehow mess it up."

The moment you try to protest, he lightly pushes the s’more against your lips. You immediately cave to the sweet treat, holding his stare and taking a bite. However, when your eyes fall closed, and you nearly moan at the taste, Sunwoo realizes his plan has severely backfired on him.

"Wow, that's good."

"Yeah, it is."

Sunwoo hears the raspiness of his voice before you even open your eyes, and he clears his throat. He focuses on making his own s’more so he can get himself back in control, but he knows this moment is going to be on repeat in his mind for a while.

Changmin stumbles up to Sunwoo once you’re finished with your dessert and begins pulling on his arm. "Come here. I want to show you something."

Sunwoo, not bothering to look up from the fire, pulls his arm away. "Later."

Changmin pauses a moment before leaning toward Sunwoo's ear and nearly shouting, "Are you having a date with your girlfriend?"

Panic jumps to life in Sunwoo's chest, and his eyes flash up to Changmin in disbelief. All of the guys have teased him relentlessly about you, but at least they’ve had the decency to not do it in front of you! Apparently, unless they're drunk.

"You're right. She's very pretty," Changmin continues after studying you.

"Okay!" Sunwoo tries to keep the fact that he's freaking out to a minimum and focuses on coming up with a plan to get out of this situation. He needs to get Changmin out of here before he says something really embarrassing. "Why don't you show Chanhee whatever it is?"

"I already did," Changmin pouts.

Sunwoo notices Juyeon walk by and immediately pawns Changmin off on the older guy. Much to his relief, Changmin doesn't put up a fight, and he doesn’t spill anything else before he walks away.

Sunwoo tries to nonchalantly look at you, but you're so very obviously watching in amusement that Sunwoo knows there's no hope of letting this moment pass like it didn't happen.

"So, you think I'm pretty?" You break the silence.

He meets your stare. "I think you're beautiful."

You clear your throat in surprise. Thankfully, it's your turn to be thrown off guard. Sunwoo needs a break.

"And was that before or after I became your girlfriend?"

A smile fights its way onto his face as you play along. "Oh, definitely before. I've been bragging about you since day one."

After that, the two of you fall silent for a little bit. Sunwoo is pleased to find that it's a content silence. There's zero awkwardness or expectations, and he can probably only list a total of two other people he feels that with.

"What are you looking for in your next relationship?" You surprise him.

He knows replying with "you" isn't the type of answer you're looking for, so he sits back and gives it some thought.

"I want to be able to have that trust with someone again. That feeling of knowing your person will always have your back and your best interests at heart," he starts off while searching for the words he wants to say. "A sense of security, I guess… I want to feel so loved… like I'm someone's everything, but I don't want to be their entire world. I want them to be their own person. I want to root for them as much as they root for me… Does that sound stupid?"

When you tell him it doesn’t, he finds that he still has more to say, and he looks down at his cup. The words coming out of his mouth are surprising. He doesn't remember the last time he was this vulnerable with someone. "I don't know. A part of me is afraid. The one relationship I really gave my all to slapped me in the face. I'd like to have a relationship like that again, but with a better outcome. I don't want to feel worthless again."

"Sunwoo, you're so far from worthless. It's not even funny." Your words are so sharp, and your tone is so serious that it surprises him into looking back up at you. "You're brave and kind. You push people to try things because you know they can handle it. You pay attention to the things most people think don't even matter, and you stick up for the people you care about without a second thought. You're an amazing friend, and I know you'll be an amazing partner to anyone worthy enough to be with you."

Your words leave him stunned, and he takes a moment to collect himself. When was the last time someone thought this way about him? The last time somebody was so sure of how good he could be? He certainly doesn’t recall hearing these words spoken about him before.

"Thank you," he forces out, hoping his voice doesn't crack or anything.

"I'm only telling you the truth," you shrug, confident in your opinions.

He hums. "What about you? What are you looking for?"

You turn and silently face the fire for long enough that Sunwoo actually begins to wonder if you're going to answer his question.

"I want someone who makes me feel valid and important. Someone who will let me explore a new hobby every single day even if they think it's stupid. Someone who will cheer me on instead of bringing me down and make me prove my worth all of the time," you admit, nibbling on your lip for a moment as you consider your thoughts. "I don't want to feel small and insignificant. I want to feel loved and cherished, and safe. To be fair, I think that's all anyone wants."

"I'll cheers to that," he says, but his mind is busy repeating everything you said like a mantra. He doesn't want to forget any of your words because that's the exact type of person he wants to be for you. He wants to give you everything that you desire.

You both end up lost in your own worlds until you break the silence. "You're really easy to talk to. I don't feel like you judge me at all."

Sunwoo leans his head back against the chair, already knowing that he would never judge you. "I don't. People have done nothing but judge me for years. They think I'm a dick or a whore, an asshole, and I don't want to make people feel that way."

He can feel you peeking over at him, and he wonders why until he hears you say, "I don't think you're a dick or an asshole. There was a time I thought you were a whore, though."

He looks over at you in amusement, and you bring your hand up to defend yourself. "Just like a tiny bit of a whore."

A laugh rips out of him, causing you to smile. Sunwoo knows exactly what you used to think of him. Hell, half of the people he knows still think that way about him, but he doesn't care. As long as you know who he is deep down, that's enough for him. The rest of them can go screw themselves.

"I've been wanting to thank you for quite some time," he admits, startling you.

"For what?"

"For taking the time to get to know me. The real me," he sighs. "You didn't care about my reputation, and you didn't try to get in my pants like every other girl that spends time with me. You just looked at me like I was another guy and learned who I am as a person. That meant a lot to me."

He peeks over at you. The two of you may be sharing some pretty heavy and personal stuff, but that doesn't mean Sunwoo doesn't feel at least a little weird for being so open and honest. The smile on your face, however, relaxes him immensely.

"You know, I really didn't want you to move in with me at the beginning, but now, I wouldn't have had it any other way," you admit with a smile. "I'm so happy I had the chance to get to know you and that you're in my life now."

Sunwoo feels his heart quicken in his chest. How are you just the most amazing person he's ever come across? Could you be any more perfect?

He searches your face, wondering if now would be a good time to confess his feelings to you. Though he doesn't want to do it in front of everyone else or while the two of you have had some alcohol, the moment seems too perfect to let it pass…

Movement behind you catches his attention, and he looks past you to see Jacob approaching. The tired look in the older man’s eyes tells Sunwoo that it's late, and he regretfully realizes that the moment has indeed passed.

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chiefatticcreator · 1 month

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As soon as the door opened and Ana presented in full nude, Noah would have loved to straight up jump her, push her inside at best and fuck her like the horny, thirsty, corrupted teen he was. Or he would fuck her in the hallway, he didn't care. He needed it so badly, he wasn't concerned to be seen for a moment.

His eyes wandered her, took in that perfect, fucking sexy body. Those tits ...that cunt. Noah would bet he couldn't get any harder than he was already but it surely felt like it.

Ana's words shook him awake from his short daydream of them fucking already, and disappointment and disbelieve clearly plastered his face. "What?!! Ana!" He made a grimace. "I swear it wasn't my fault it took this long! Come on..." Like a sad, begging puppy he looked at her. He had the bad feeling this meant he wouldn't get to fuck her at all today. Which sounded like the worst news possible in his head. Nothing in this world could upset him more. And as if his body was laughing at him as well, a wave of arousal made him shudder the longer he looked at naked Ana.

"I'm sorry that I just made it here! But come on ... second round?" The grin on his face was a mix of begging and innocence, hoping it would work. In the end, he was just a sweet, innocent, little boy who wanted to fuck his absurdely hot neighbour, wasn't he?

The desperation in his eyes, the way he looked at her, it was all delicious, making Ana shiver in excitement, at the power she had over this young teen, at how utterly hers he was.

She made a show of hesitating, of touching the door, as if considering slamming it shut, then she smiled.

"I suppose you can eat me out to clean me." she finally decided, inviting him inside. "But that's gonna be all for today."

#noah #overwatch #ana amari

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translations-dark-matter · 2 months

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Living as an Extra in an Omegaverse novel

Chapter 100

"Se-hyeon, why are you cursing?"

Shin Tae-oh's gentle voice seemed to be deliberately trying to turn me upside down.

"What are you thinking? Did you purposely want to surprise me?"

I shot back at Shin Tae-oh, using formal speech, informal speech, and swearing.

"I'm not trying to completely crush someone's heart. If it's like this from the beginning, what will happen next...?"

"Se-hyeon."

Shin Tae-oh still had a smiling face. No, his eyes were even squinting.

What's going on? What's making him smile like that this time?

"Will you listen to me for a moment?"

As if indicating that he wouldn't do anything for now, Shin Tae-oh slowly released his hands one by one. As each leg touched the ground, Se-hyeon gradually calmed down.

"What do you think when you see a cake?"

"I think it looks delicious..."

"Exactly. What if you smell something sweet? It's natural to want to eat it, right?"

Strangely enough, I couldn't come up with a rebuttal because his persuasion was convincing.

"I feel the same way. Your pheromones are emitting an irresistibly sweet scent. It's only natural to be drawn to the place with the sweetest fragrance."

"But still, I'm not a cake."

Ignoring the slight rebellion that the smell is irrelevant and the subject is different, Shin Tae-oh smirked.

"You've seen me in that way too, haven't you?"

"When did I?"

"As an appetizer."

With the word uttered by Shin Tae-oh, another thought struck my mind, leaving me unable to refute once again.

"Pretty things are meant to be admired, not eaten. Could it possibly apply here? Will it become a more memorable dish than the main course?"

As I looked at the dish served as an appetizer, Shin Tae-oh's words...

The appetizer is beautiful.

Shin Tae-oh is the appetizer.

Therefore,

Shin Tae-oh is delicious?

I've come to absurd conclusions before, but did I unknowingly see Shin Tae-oh at that time?

"It seems like you've figured out what I'm saying, so there's no need to say more. I'll let it slide that you were salivating when I told you to eat the salmon salad."

Perhaps considering that this explanation is sufficient, Shin Tae-oh lowered his face again. He gently laid Se-hyeon down once more, gripping his waist tightly and awakening Se-hyeon, whose skin had stiffened at the sound of suction and licking.

Only then did Se-hyeon realize that he had fallen for Shin Tae-oh's sophistry, but he couldn't push away Shin Tae-oh's face that was pressed against his body. His body, which seemed to have melted into pheromones, had reached its limits, and the heat was concentrated in an unspeakable place.

"But sometimes I nibble on cakes."

"What?"

Shin Tae-oh raised his head and calmly brought up the topic, while Se-hyeon's eyes widened in astonishment. Nibble on cakes? What does that mean?

"Mmm."

Even in the midst of hesitating to tease, a genuine moan escaped Se-hyeon's lips.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's not that... It tickles, but it doesn't hurt."

"Then, with cakes..."

"Huh? You haven't tried eating a cake with your fingers?"

"Huh?"

I fell for it again.

Shin Tae-oh, without a doubt intentionally doing this, tightened his grip on Se-hyeon's legs that were spread wide with a sly smile on his face.

"Mmm."

As Se-hyeon was tightly held by Shin Tae-oh, his brows furrowed, and his brows were twitching harshly. Sensing that something was wrong, Shin Tae-oh sighed.

"I tried my best to hold back."

So, this is your responsibility, Shin Tae-oh said, straightening his back and releasing his hold on Se-hyeon's waist.

It felt like a stormy night.

Se-hyeon's heat rapidly dissipated, and he firmly planted his feet on the bed. It was an instinctive movement, seeking to push the bed and escape from Shin Tae-oh, a primal urge to find an escape route.

Not yet. I'm not ready yet.

So I tried to refuse, but Shin Tae-oh could not be unaware of my movements. Once again, my ankles were caught, and I was overpowered...

"Uh..."

As if the intense pheromones that were just moments ago considered child's play suddenly poured out all at once.

"What?"

"I can't hold back anymore."

Shin Tae-oh growled like a beast in front of Se-hyeon's eyes, taking deep breaths as his chest rose and fell repeatedly.

The body temperature rose to an eerie extent, and now it felt as if Se-hyeon's body had already merged into one.

In the instinctive sensation unfolding before his eyes, Se-hyeon, in a daze, noticed that Shin Tae-oh took a quick, shallow breath.

"I was afraid of hurting you if I continued to hold back."

Knowing that, I tried my best to endure rationally, but unknowingly, I swallowed dry saliva and pressed my lips with my tongue.

Shin Tae-oh looked down at Se-hyeon's appearance and let out a deep sigh.

Transparent droplets of sweat fell onto his abdomen, glistening. Once again, the pheromones flowed out, and if only he could taste it, Se-hyeon's body continued to tremble with the impulse to get closer and even smell it.

Shin Tae-oh's half-closed eyes, flushed face. From the tension in his muscles to the wafting scent of pheromones, everything about him excited Se-hyeon.

"It's real."

Without any decrease in excitement, rationality blurred. The funny thing was that it was the omega's body that reacted when seeing his.

"Let's do it again."

When Shin Tae-oh roughly ran his hand through his hair, he spoke.

"I won't rush you."

Shin Tae-oh's expression was so serious that Se-hyeon simply watched him, even feeling a slight heaviness in his plump body. Despite that, he groaned instead of completely pulling away like before, determined not to withdraw his body entirely.

"It's not easy."

Shin Tae-oh also looked uneasy at Se-hyeon's expression, still unable to completely overcome his fear.

The pheromones subtly emitted to resist the easy intrusion of an alpha were felt, but it wouldn't work on his rationality.

Contrary to expectations, the omega about to experience it for the first time felt intense possessiveness and excitement. He couldn't predict how his instincts as an alpha would manifest.

"Oh, no."

Whether it was due to that impulse, Se-hyeon couldn't resist and completely turned his body around. He tried to escape before being caught by Shin Tae-oh, but when he saw his face, he stopped all his actions.

Shin Tae-oh didn't grab his ankles like before. And the emotion in his eyes was that of regret.

Could it be...?

"It might hurt."

Shin Tae-oh slowly stood up. Without even trying to hide his excitement, he looked at Se-hyeon and gave a faint smile.

Within his intense gaze, glimpses of the last traces of rationality before instinct took over were seen.

"Se-hyeon isn't a cake."

With that thought in mind, he went into the bathroom, not wanting to hurt him. Soon, the sound of water running and Shin Tae-oh's presence disappeared.

Amidst the vague sounds that could be heard, Se-hyeon breathed heavily, his breaths tinged with various colors, as he stared at the ceiling.

"I won't be able to do this for a lifetime at this rate."

A sigh escaped him due to the frustration of not being able to push himself to inflict pain.

This unfamiliar experience reminded him that it was all a first for him.

First times come with fear. If he wasn't scared now, it would be a lie. That's why he tried to retreat several times, but when he looked at Shin Tae-oh, all that came out was a dry laugh.

As Se-hyeon tried to get up and reached for the bed, he hesitated due to a tingling sensation. Unconsciously moving, he hadn't paid attention to his wrist. After moving quite a bit with Shin Tae-oh, the bandage was hanging loosely, as if it was about to come off.

It hadn't been a day since he was discharged. In that time, he had confessed to Shin Tae-oh, kissed him, and even planned to go all the way to the bed.

"What's twelve months..."

Wasn't this supposed to be something only the two of them experienced?

In about a year from now, the original story would come to an end, so the thought of completely possessing Shin Tae-oh would be meaningless.

"I'd better just forget it."

Going forward, don't even think about the original work, don't get swept away by it, and don't exploit it.

Se-hyeon got up from the bed and opened the bathroom door. He looked at Shin Tae-oh, standing under the pouring stream of water, with surprised eyes.

"Se-hyeon."

"After calling me a cake, did you have someone else to refrigerate me?"

The water splashing on his face was cold.

It felt strangely satisfying, as if the situation had completely reversed from when he had been caught revealing his secret.

Se-hyeon turned off the faucet. When my cycle came, Shin Tae-oh had also turned off the water like this. As the noise disappeared and the sound of water dripping from Shin Tae-oh's body intermittently pushed away the silence, Se-hyeon spoke.

"Now I won't run away. I won't stop you either."

Approaching Shin Tae-oh, he placed his hand on his icy-cold body.

"If you still can't trust me, you can tie me up."

As the end of the bandage slipped down and covered the other wrist, as if binding both wrists together, it confused Shin Tae-oh.

"Let's do it again."

"Se-hyeon."

"After all, the first time has to happen, right?"

Se-hyeon, overcome with frustration, hesitated but was pulled by Shin Tae-oh by the back of his head. In that sudden moment, his mouth involuntarily opened wide, and his tongue revealed the desire he had been trying to suppress.

Their tongues tangled together, emitting a sticky sound that blended strangely with the sound of Shin Tae-oh's footsteps. Se-hyeon embraced him, caressing his shoulders, neck, and back. Even if it meant doing so, he wanted to warm up Shin Tae-oh's chilled body.

He pressed his body closer to him, not allowing even the slightest gap. And wherever his hands couldn't reach, he tried his best to envelop them in pheromones.

"Krk. Se-hyeon."

Shin Tae-oh paused for a moment, accompanied by a rough groan, then resumed walking with each step heavy. Se-hyeon, who had obediently stayed still until Shin Tae-oh reached the bed, finally let him go when his back touched the mattress.

"It's time to have cake, Tae-oh."

He extended both hands toward Shin Tae-oh.

Shin Tae-oh rushed towards him, wearing a bright smile.

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 2 years

Text

Chocolate Guy

Okay, okay. It's time for Sam™. Sam the Baker Modern AU, in which Sam is Chocolate Guy 🎂 (fucking chocolate guy!!!)

(see prev from @valdomarx here, @julek here, @kueble here and @samstree here)

1.4k words, no warnings

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier leans against the kitchen counter, watching his phone. Something, somewhere, is burning.

“Jaskier! The sauce!”

He comes back to himself all at once, turning just in time to see Essi grab the now ruined pasta sauce from the hob. The saucepan is smoking.

She sighs, peering at their ruined dinner. “You weren’t even paying attention, were you?”

“It’s fucking Chocolate Guy!” Jaskier says. “He’s just posted a new video!”

Essi peers over his shoulder. “Who?”

“The chocolate— Essi, seriously, you don’t know about the Chocolate Guy?”

She shrugs.

“Urgh, you’re useless. He posts these amazing videos of these desserts he makes. I swear he’s got to be a wizard or something, because they’re all amazing.”

She watches the video over Jaskier’s arm. It shows molten chocolate being poured into a mould.

“I don’t get it,” she says eventually. “It’s just chocolate?”

“Well, yeah,” sighs Jaskier, “but… but look at it! It’s incredible, it’s art.”

Essi gives him a long stare. “It’s chocolate.”

“Philistine,” Jaskier snorts, rolling his eyes. “You just don't appreciate the finer things in life.”

“And you spend too much time on your phone,” she counters.

“I have to spend this much time on my phone, thank you,” he says. “My followers expect it of me. It’s 2022, love. No one gets a record deal if they aren’t terminally online anymore.”

“Hmm.”

Essi takes his phone and flicks at the screen, turning the sound on. The noise of ambient guitar music fills their tiny kitchen.

“You can write better music than this, Jask,” she says, handing the phone back. “You should ask if he wants to collab.”

Jaskier quickly mutes the phone, feeling his ears turning red. “Don’t be— don’t be absurd,” he says. “I can’t just ask if he wants to collab, for Melitele’s sake. Goodness. Ask if he wants to— you’re mad, you know. Completely mad.”

Essi stares at him as he rambles. “Why not?” She says, when he’s finally done.

“Because it’s— because he’s Chocolate Guy, Essi! Everyone knows him!”

“Which is why you should do it, surely?”

“I— you—” Jaskier splutters. “No, absolutely not. He must get hundreds of people messaging him. I’ve barely got ten thousand followers.”

“Fine,” Essi says, lips pursed. “Suit yourself.”

That night, Jaskier lies awake in bed with his phone propped sideways on the old, wonky teddy bear beside him. He’s watching a one-hour Chocolate Guy compilation video—the one with the soft background music. He often watches these videos before he goes to sleep, and the repetitive movements and calming music helps him drift off.

He’s distracted, this evening. Essi’s suggestion that he should reach out to the mysterious baker behind the account has left him feeling rattled, and he’s not sure why.

Except... he knows exactly why he’s feeling off. He’s harboured a secret, rather pathetic crush on Chocolate Guy for a good four or five months now, and the idea of actually messaging him—an idea he’s had himself, in moments of weakness—is, frankly, terrifying. Chocolate Guy has several hundred times as many followers as him, and everybody knows him. He’s an internet celebrity, for fuck’s sake. He’s not got time for lonely idiots who play shitty guitar.

That’s the crux of it, Jaskier thinks as he watches Chocolate Guy carve a hunk of dark chocolate into a delicate swirl. He’s lonely. He’s lonely, and Chocolate Guy has the most singularly beautiful hands Jaskier has ever seen. He works so smoothly and gently, and Jaskier’s spent more than one long evening feeling jealous of a fucking slice of cake.

He wonders what it would feel like to have those hands on him. To craft him into something delicate and delicious.

It’s nonsense. He closes the app, locks his phones, and buries himself beneath the thick duvet.

He does not sleep.

Dandelion. He’s got nearly 9 thousand followers. He deserves far more, Sam thinks.

He’s been following the indie singer since he had 500 followers, one of the first few on the page. Dandelion posts a mishmash of music, sometimes plaintive ballads and sometimes 30 second ditties, interspersed with selfies and photos of his cat. He’s talented, clever, witty, unfairly gorgeous and—to make matters worse—he seems to be a genuinely lovely bloke. Sam half-wishes he was a dickhead, just to alleviate the pain of this entirely online crush.

He can remember the day when Dandelion had followed his professional account in perfect clarity. The squeeze in his chest, the flip in his stomach. He’d been seen. He wanted to follow him back, but the account was for work, only following a handful of other patisserie artists and his sponsors.

At the time, he’d wondered if Dandelion had followed him accidentally. And then the likes started. Quickly followed by the comments. Sometimes keysmashes, sometimes colourful curses, always full of praise. Sam was getting so many comments lately that Dandelion’s were often buried, but he knew they were there.

He feels—scared, almost. Dandelion doesn’t seem to perform live much—likely because he’s not got the money or the following yet to do so—but Sam has promised himself that he’ll buy tickets and go if he ever does. The singer appears to live in London, which is a good six hour train ride away, but—

But it would be worth it, just to see him.

Sam watches Dandelion’s latest song—a cute, jaunty little love song—with a twist in his stomach. Dandelion is tall, and beautiful, and surprisingly buff, and Sam is… not. Dandelion likely wouldn’t even look twice at him, if he was to see him in real life, no matter how exuberant his comments are.

He'd never write a song like that for him. Dandelion doesn't even know he exists beyond a pair of disembodied hands.

He’s about to lock his phone and get back to work, when there’s a loud ping that jolts him from his thoughts. A message. He gets a lot of messages, and usually ignores them, but something makes him swipe across and check his inbox.

His heart stops. He opens the message.

Dandelion: hey

Sam watches as the bouncing ‘Dandelion is typing…’ message pops up.

Dandelion: i just wanted to say that ive been watching your videos for ages and I really love them, theyre gorgeous. Youre super talented :)

Dandelion: and uve got really lovely hands lmao

Dandelion: Shit sorry, i sound like a weirdo

The messages stopped. Shit, Sam thought. No—

Sam: its fine, you don’t sound that weird.

Sam: I mean. Maybe a bit weird. But it’s okay.

Sam: I can’t believe you’re messaging, actually. I really love your music, I’ve been listening since You Think You’re Safe

Sam waits, heart thundering in his chest. Maybe he sounds like a weirdo, now. You Think You’re Safe was one of Dandelion’s earliest songs, one he’s since deleted from his channel. But… you’ve got lovely hands. Maybe he’s allowed to sound like a weirdo, just this once.

While waiting for Dandelion to reply, he sends another message.

Sam: thanks, by the way. I like my hands too :)

Dandelion: sdfjskflsdfls

Sam rolls his eyes, not unfondly. He should have expected the keysmash.

Dandelion: YTYS is *so* old, oh my god. Ive tried to forget that one

Dandelion: the new ones are better

Sam: they’re all good. I was listening to your latest one just now, actually. It’s really sweet.

Dandelion: Im glad u liked it <3

There’s another heart-stopping lurch in Sam’s stomach. It’s just an emoji, he reminds himself. It doesn’t mean anything.

Dandelion: Actually, i had a question

Dandelion: this might sound weird

Dandelion: …….again

Sam: go on?

Dandelion: I was listening to the background music in ur videos and i was wondering if ud like to do a collab?

Dandelion: feel free to say no if its too weird

Dandelion: ….i’ll write something better than You Think You’re Safe i swear

Oh. This is— unexpected. To collaborate with Dandelion would be nothing more than a dream come true. And it would mean hours—days—of messaging each other, working each other out, finding something that works. Dandelion’s music would be perfect, he thinks, and suddenly his mind is full of the image of a chocolate music box, one that really works, with a little dancing couple on top that plays a tune when you open it. It would his most ambitious project yet. But…

He tries to focus on what’s happening in front of him, instead of the sudden flurry of images flitting through his head, scrambling for attention.

Sam: I’d love to

Sam: actually, I’ve got a really good idea that might work, if you want to hear it?

Dandelion: !!!

Dandelion: TELL ME

Sam grins at his phone. His work forgotten, he starts to type.

#tshdjfks i dont know what happened i just went #SAM IS CHOCOALTE GUY #and then this happened #thank u all for allowing my nonsense #jaskier x sam the baker #the witcher #jaskier

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 2 years

Text

@taznovembercelebration day 21: cinnamon, brimstone

Taako rifles through his cabinets, searching every single nook and cranny he can. There’s a moment of fleeting, delicious triumph when he finds a canister squirreled away in his dry storage, though the mood sours when a cursory shake reveals it to be empty. He tosses it in a long, lazy arc as he aims for his kitchen trashcan. The canister clatters noisily on the floor next to the trash. Taako rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his cabinets. He swears he stocked up on everything two weeks ago.

The wind rattles his windows and he shudders a little; last thing he wants to do is venture out in the maelstrom pounding his home but he’s missing a vital ingredient. He drums his fingers on the cabinet door before he’s struck by an idea.

He begins methodically twisting his rings; you’d think he’d manage to remember which one does the trick but he has a very particular aesthetic and can’t be bothered to remember which rings hold deep power and which ones turn his fingers green. He fiddles for another moment before his thumb flicks across a band on his middle finger, sending it spinning.

In an instant, Taako’s kitchen becomes a personal pyrotechnics show, smoke and light filling up the space and billowing out before it can choke the air from his lungs.

“Ogie, my dude, can you help cha’boy out? Because I’m –“ Taako cuts himself off as he realizes the scene in his kitchen isn’t one he’s seen before. Normally his patron appears with far less fanfare and theatrics. Half the time he just shows up as an owl or imbues one of Taako’s books with sentience.

The figure standing in his kitchen looms large and looks entirely out of place; tendrils of smoke emanate from his dark skin and his dark eyes burn like coals. He has dark, gnarled horns as thick as Taako’s wrist. The thick stench of brimstone permeates from the singed circle he’s left on the floor.

“Well.” Taako blinks, looking him up and down. “You’re not Oghma.”

“Decidedly not, mortal.” His voice rumbles, deep and primordial.

Taako should probably be a little freaked out that this pseudo-fiend is hanging out near his stove, but he has more pressing concerns. He crosses his arms and frowns. “Is he busy or something? Is he outsourcing my shit now? Because that was absolutely notin our pact!”

��His matters are of no concern to you at this moment. He sent me in his stead.”

Taako’s frown deepens and he rolls his eyes. “Well since you’re here, could you get me cinnamon?” Taako walks over to the discarded canister and shakes it in front of his substitute patron.

He seems to be taken aback. His stony façade drops for a minute, furrowing his eyebrows instead. “Sorry you were trying to summon your patron for a spice?” His voice is now a couple tones higher. He just sounds like some guy.

Taako shrugs. “I mean listen if you lived in the middle of nowhere, you’d exhaust all your options before going to the market too. Also the weather sucks right now.”

Not-Oghma blinks once, twice, then three times. It looks to be more out of shock than necessity. “So let me get this straight. You have a warlock pact with Oghma, the Lord of Knowledge, and you use to run errands?”

Taako rolls his eyes at the absurdity of this statement. “My man. Fiend. Thing-that-scorched-my-kitchen-floor-and-don’t-think-we-won’t-be-discussing-that-later. Of course I don’t use the pact to run errands. Oghma needs a scribe to record all his big ideas, I was in a pinch when I was a lot younger, so we made the pact. The whole magic thing has seriously saved my bacon a few times but he’s mainly offered some sense of like, I dunno, security? Someone big’s got a vested interest in me. Probably wouldn’t be too keen on me biting it randomly so I get to relax a little. And yeah, okay, sometimes he’ll do me a less major solid like getting me spices.”

Not-Oghma tilts his head. “That’s it? No threats if you break the pact? No intimidation? Fear mongering?”

“From Oghma? Nah, man. He’s cool. So what’s your deal? Why’d he send you?”

“Um. Well, it feels silly now. Basically, I’m meant to learn how to manage a pact? I’ve been working in close conjunction with the Raven Queen for a number of years but she wanted me to get a feel for all the possibilities of what a pact can look like. Apparently she and Oghma go way back and he has far fewer warlocks to deal with than she does.”

Taako squints at him and fights a smile threatening to paint his face. “So you’re like an intern?”

“No!” He protests, perhaps a bit too emphatically.

“Well, Mister Not-Intern, do you have a name? And how long’s this Warlock’s Apprentice thing going on?”

“My name is Kravitz. And apparently until it’s agreed that I’m capable. I’m not replacing Oghma in the long-term. I’m just meant to deal with small warlock needs and report back about what’s going right and what’s going wrong.” Kravitz looks a little unsure of himself.

Taako grins easily at Kravitz. “Well, bud, lucky for you, I’m Oghma’s neediest warlock.” He delights in seeing Kravitz's confusion as Taako sends him a wink. “I’m also his best." He pauses and tilts his head like he’s thinking hard about something. "And I think at this point maybe his only? Anyway, you’re going to get a crash course in pact management. Now, about that cinnamon.”

#literally have been thinking about this scenario since like. nov 3rd #taz #taz nc #taz november celebration #taakitz #at least. it would be eventually #who knows i might return to this sometime #taako #kravitz #reese writes #the adventure zone

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laurore-stormwitch · 3 years

Text

BEWARE THERE ARE ROW SPOILERS IN THIS FAN FICTION

So, I did something. Rule of Wolves left me in tears. But I felt we were missing an epilogue, and that’s my take. We can see a little of Nikolai courting Zoya, his proposal and the wedding. I poured all my love into this, all of how much these characters mean to me. I hope it can bring comfort and a smile to all of you who love them as much. I don’t say it much, but this is one of the things I loved most writing, and I hope you’re gonna enjoy it. I send a big hug to whoever has taken this grishaverse wild ride word count: 4953 you are my endless summer - ao3

“Is this strictly necessary?”

Zoya asked, faking more annoyance than she felt. She wondered what kind of crazy idea had come to Nikolai’s mind this time, as she stumbled through the woods with a strip of cloth tied on her eyes. Nikolai was guiding her, holding her hand and her elbow to steady her through the fallen branches on the ground. He didn’t answer, but she could swear she could hear the smug smirk on his face.

“I already know where you’re taking me. You’ve kept me away from the garden for two months, I kind of figured out what you were doing.”

“How cunning you are. That’s why I love you.”

She nudged him on what she hoped was his stomach, eliciting a laugh from his side.

“Humour me Zoya, please. What kind of a surprise would it be if I let you see?”

“The kind where you don’t end up being a pile of smoking dust.”

Nikolai laughed again, a crystal-clear sound that made her heart twitch. The threat was not that far from the truth. Nikolai had been entertaining himself way too much with this idiotic courting thing he had decided to pursue. She thought back on when she believed she could have a quiet romance with him. A quiet romance with a man who has a double identity as a privateer and wears a ridiculous teal frock coat. Great thinking, Zoya.

The first hint of how much not quiet Nikolai was going to be had been the absurd deal of public flirting he engaged in, knowing damn well how Zoya was used to propriety. And bitter and ruthless words, at the very best. Not even under torture she would admit how endearing it had been instead; better to keep scolding him. However, as usual, Nikolai saw right through her pretence, caught the gleam of amusement and desire in her eyes. That had only made him become more daring and blatant. Nothing could compare for him to the satisfaction of leaving Zoya speechless. Zoya had tried to match his bold attitude, but she had to admit she was not half as good as him. To this day, he was still rubbing in her face the time where she had almost caused a diplomatic incident due to the shock of his shamelessness. He had just got back from a trip to Ketterdam, right after the coronation. They were waiting at the palace’s gates to meet with the Shu delegation, coming to pay their respect to the recently crowned queen. Nikolai had chosen the moment where their newly acquired allies were emerging from the carriages to lean into her ear to whisper, ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by soldiers and dignitaries, and not just Genya and Alina like last time; Nikolai loved an audience as much as he loved himself.

“I see you’ve resorted back to your kefta”, he had muttered in a casual tone.

Zoya had cut him a quick glare, saying something she would regret later. “Did you like the coronation dress better?”

“Oh no, not at all. If I remember correctly, I suggested you get out of that.” The Shu delegation was getting closer. Nikolai had lowered his voice even more, starting to smile at them. “I stand to my suggestion. There are several outfits I like better on you than a dress. Namely, your kefta, which I'm happy you got back.” She had kept her eyes trained in front of her, ignoring him. “Or the rough spun clothes you use when we are on the Volkvolny.” He had plucked a non-existent dust from his sleeve, keeping the nonchalant attitude of someone who was speaking about the weather. “Your nightdress, the one that looks like a starry night and has a shockingly small amount of fabric.” He had waved a hand in Ehri’s direction, who by that time had been a couple of steps too close to them for Nikolai to keep talking. But the man did have a tendency to risk his life. “But you with nothing on would definitely be in first place.”

Zoya had widened her eyes and a violent rush of blood had tinged her cheeks, while Nikolai had sprinted on to welcome her guests and she stood there like an idiot, trying to catch back her composure. After that, she had quickly understood just how much Nikolai appreciated a challenge. And when he understood just how much Zoya hated to cause a scene, that had been the end for her. At least it seemed like they were alone right now. Better to be safe than sorry, although.

“Nikolai, please at least tell me you’re not about to stage another of your embarrassing public fit.” She asked him now, half pleading and half threatening, as they made their way through the woods.

Nikolai chuckled. “Not this time. And do not lie to me, I know you’ve enjoyed my scenes.”

“I have not.”

“Not even a smidge?”

“You should thank the Saints you’re still breathing after all the stunts you pulled.”

“The Saints and your infinite love for me, I suppose.”

“My love may be infinite, but I assure you my patience is not.”

Zoya tried to keep the smile from her voice, failing miserably. Nikolai had a way to overwhelm her with a now familiar lightness and serenity. Their bickering, his hand in hers, his scent in the air. It all felt like home. So much so that she had found herself subtly pressing on him to get married, eager to have him forever with her. It was a feeling of certainty she wasn’t willing to let go of. It was a treasure she wanted to protect. And she didn’t really care about grand gestures, about big declarations. As far as she was concerned, she could find a ring on her nightstand and they could be married in secret. Nikolai knew that, always seemed to know exactly what kind of attention she needed. He left her his little wire boats everywhere to be found, he concocted small and useless inventions just for the sake of amusing her. He placed hidden notes and drawings in her drawers or under her pillows. He courted her in a way she had never been courted before, dedicating his clever mind to making her feel loved and safe - a task in which he was succeeding brilliantly.

But the privateer in him came out every now and then. Apart from the flirting, which she could admit she had been enjoying, he had picked up the unnerving habit of pretending to be about to propose to her in the middle of all sorts of gatherings. The first time he had sank down on one knee had been during one of their evenings with the rest of their friends. Everyone had drawn a sharp breath, falling silent and still. But the idiot had simply picked up one of her earrings that had fallen on the floor, winking at her while she narrowed her eyes at him from the upside down. Then he got bolder and bolder. The next time, he had clanked his glass at the end of a state dinner, saying he had a declaration to make for his queen. Zoya had glared at him from her seat, shifting uncomfortably, praying to all the Saints for him to shut up. But the worst had been during the ball they threw last week in honour of some Saint or occurrence she could not even remember. They were dancing, spinning around the ballroom. Nikolai was indeed a very gifted dancer, so she usually let him guide her. It was a strange feeling, the safety of being carried by his arms.

“Your hand is nowhere near the level of propriety, Nikolai”, she had whispered with a playful look, noting the fire on her skin as he had brushed her lower back.

He had smirked. “Let them envy me. I’m dancing with the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

“The one that’s going to step on your foot if you don’t behave yourself.”

Nikolai had nudged her closer, skimming his lips on her jaw. “Want to give them something else to watch?” And then, without preamble, he had kneeled in front of her, right in the middle of the ballroom, holding one of her hands in his. The music had stopped, the room had been filled with ecstatic murmurs. Zoya had caught Genya giggling on the other side of the room, but she could only hear her heart thrumming in her chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

One beat had passed. Two beats, and that delicious grin of his had erupted on Nikolai’s face. He had cleared his throat and turned to the people assembled around them.

“Pardon me for the interruption, but I believe it’s time for the Queen to give her speech!” He had joyfully declared, getting back up on his feet. She had looped her arm on his, seething under her breath.

“I am going to smite you where you stand.”

From that moment on, every time he had tried to garner the attention in public endeavours, she had been terrified to see him cause another scene. Deep down, Zoya knew he was not going to ask her like this. He was way too much of a romantic soul to do this. Sure enough though, he was immensely enjoying himself. She supposed she could let him have his fun. As long as she was his, and he was hers, she didn’t really care how many times he would embarrass her. There was nothing on earth that could compare to the feeling of seeing him beaming with happiness. Not even the dragon, in all his lifetimes, had known a warmth like this. Zoya loved him enough to let him have his way at times.

The creak of the garden door distracted her from her thoughts. Finally, Nikolai stopped. She heard him move behind her and place his hands on her hips, while his lips brushed on the skin of her neck.

“You can look now.”

He murmured against her skin. Was she imagining the slight tremble of emotion in his voice? He sounded thrilled, nervous. Slowly, she pulled the cloth from her eyes, caught back by the light that was flooding the place. Whatever she had thought she was going to see, it was nothing compared to what Nikolai had built. The breath was knocked out of her lungs, the beating of her heart racing up like it was about to take flight. It was her garden, but it was so much more. The structure Nikolai had designed was an engineering marvel of glass and wrought iron, twisting toward the sky, looking like the dome of a chapel. A perfect combination of his brilliance and a most expert Fabrikator’s craft. The whole building was transparent; Zoya could see the sky beyond, the clouds, the ray of sun warming up the place and shattering through the glass in a rainbow of colours. The flowers hadn’t been touched; new pots had been placed, new space to fill. The thorn wood still ran on the sides, around the bricks and the lanterns. But the wall had been painted with every sort of wonder; there was a dragon roaring through the sky, a ship that looked like the Volkvolny sealing a storm-swept sea, with a two-star flag added to Sturmhond’s one. A fox emerged from the bushes on the wall nearer to the door. The Grisha colours and symbols were all over the place, a flash of blue, red, and purple blossoms; waves, fire and lightnings ran throughout the murals.

“Alina painted them.”

Explained Nikolai, whispering softly when he noticed she was looking at the walls. Zoya took two steps in front of her, tilting her head up. There weren’t words she possessed right enough for this moment, none of the languages she knew was fit to describe this. The wrought iron was shaped like quince and gusts of wind that towered over the place in a million branches, spreading on the lines of the glass dome.

“Every panel of glass can be opened in the summer. They’re closed now, so that the heat stays in and the flowers can blossom in every season.”

Nikolai’s voice was still soft, still stumbling a little, like he was holding his breath to wait for her reaction. He had poured all of himself into this extraordinary building. This is what love does. If only Lilyiana could see her now. If she could see what she had found. Let love pour through, my little girl. Let your golden hero carry you home. You are safe. Zoya was shaking. Breathing was hard. She turned to him, feeling a suspicious prickle behind her eyes. Nikolai had once again got down on his knee amidst her wildflowers; she caught the sparkle of a jewel in his hand. Zoya smiled, too stricken with emotions to concentrate on anything that wasn't him.

“I hope it’s the last time you kneel to me.” Zoya tried to muster some wit, but her voice came out croaked, her throat sore. Nikolai was undoing her.

“Do shut up, Your Highness. I believe it’s my turn to speak.” The too-clever fox smirked, a clear and expectant look in his gleaming hazel eyes. “I had a speech - honestly it’s hard to remember it right now.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, and I’ve been believing for so long that there wasn’t a future for us, that it seemed impossible to have this.”

He opened his mouth again, clearly about to correct himself, but Zoya was quicker. “Improbable”, she added, unable to restrain herself. Another smirk curled his lips.

“Improbable”, he conceded, immensely satisfied that she had picked up on his favourite line. “I know I’ve kept you waiting. I would have asked the first time you kissed me. I would have asked that night in the cargo hold. But I said something else that night, something I wanted to live up to.”

Zoya watched him carefully, trying to see through him, to wrap her head around what was happening. She felt like her heart was about to burst in her chest.

“There were things I wanted to do before asking you. I wanted to gift you something ill-suited for war, something precious. That’s why I built this.” He gestured to the structure around them. “Because your garden need not be just a monument to grief anymore, but one to life. To the way you make everything around you blossom.” Nikolai paused, his gaze intense and fierce on her. “And then there were other things I told you I would have done for you, once I could.”

“You wanted to give me a crown.” Zoya said, with surprise in her voice. She had started to figure out where he was going with this, had started to grasp his words from the memory of that night, carved inside her.

“That was the first thing. I believe it worked splendidly. What else did I tell you?”

“You wanted to show me the world from the prow of your ship.”

She brought her fingers to her lips, as if she could not believe her own realization. Her voice was trembling too, now. She remembered. She remembered when Nikolai had insisted they took a couple of days at sea, during their mission in Os Kervo. Zoya knew Nikolai wanted to travel with her, but they simply had not had the time to do it properly. Zoya had promised him they would, someday, when peace was secured. Nikolai had pressed her on that trip to sail on the Volkvolny, even for a little while. She had not questioned him, thought he was only being nonsensical as usual and had obliged him. He had told her something, on the railing of the ship, as the sun was setting in front of them. That’s why I like the sea, he had said to her, because when you look out at the horizon, you see everything beyond. Look, Zoya. You can see the whole world from here. It’s all ours for the taking. She had laughed, tilting her head to the sun. You gave me Ravka, Nikolai. It’s enough for me. She had been wrong. Nikolai had not just given her Ravka. Here, in the silence of her garden, she knew he was giving her so much more.

“And then there was one last thing.” Nikolai encouraged her. Zoya drew a sharp breath, catching the ring in his hand into focus.

“You wanted to give me a sapphire, the size of an acorn.”

Nikolai took her hand and placed the ring in it. The band was made of white gold, in the shape of a dragon curled around itself. Between its tail and its head, it held a glowing sapphire, the colour of a midnight sky. She peered at him under her lashes, too overwhelmed to say anything. His hands were shivering.

“I know it’s not the size of an acorn. We are still slightly broke, and, well - I thought you would have liked it better like this. It’s more elegant, it suits you more.”

Silence enveloped them. Zoya felt his warm uneven breathing on her skin, his nervousness, the sheer truth and love behind his actions taking her like a tide, filling the well inside her that had once protected her grief and caged her heart.

“I wanted you to understand that I’ll always be true to my promises. I don’t know when I started loving you, but I know I’m lost now. I searched for you for a lifetime. I still want you all the time. I want to lay beside you every night, wake up with you in my arms every morning. I want to build the future with you, I want to watch you scowl at people and be the brave and ruthless leader you are.” Nikolai inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “You've been my general. You are my friend, the woman I love. I would have chosen you before, I would now and I always will. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?”

Zoya didn’t try to hold back the tears. It didn’t matter. It didn’t because she had never felt safer in her life than she was feeling now, held in the dome that protected her garden, in the hands of the man that had always protected her. What he was telling her now, it had an echo to so many other things he had told her in the past, scattered throughout the moments they had shared. It told the story of how they took care of each other for so long, of their longing, of their strength. How they had found each other at last. She gently kneeled in front of him, folding her hand over the one that was holding the ring. All around them, the flowers had sprouted, their scent clouding them. She placed the other hand on his cheek, locking their eyes together. It took all her might to find her voice within the emotions swimming in her chest. Zoya had never been sentimental like him. She had never tried to be, maybe she could never be. Yet, she wanted him to know now; to know even a fraction of how much her love for him ran deep in her veins.

“You made me believe that impossible really is just a word.” She tried, wavering, gaining more confidence with each word she brought out. “You made me believe again, Nikolai. You are the hero of every story I have ever heard. And yes, I’ll marry you.”

He opened in an astonishing expression of relief, leaning in her touch. Nikolai slipped the ring on her finger, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Turns out you can be romantic too, when you want to.” He teased, getting up and bringing her with him, circling her in his arms. As she leaned on his chest, she heard the rhythmic pounding of his heart, quick as the flapping of a bird’s wings.

“It’s hardly a match between the two of us. I know how much you enjoy it, so I let you take all the credit.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop kneeling in front of crowds?”

“I think so. I will not stop with the flirting, though. It’s a compulsion.”

Zoya went on her toes to press a kiss on his mouth.

“Do keep up with that. I like it.”

She tucked her hand into his pocket, closing her fingers on the blue ribbon he kept on him all the time. Zoya pulled it out, unfurling it in front of them.

“I believe I’ll need this for the wedding day.”

The smile that lightened up his face was worth a thousand wars to wage. A thousand years to wait.

***

To say that the wedding was grand, would have been an understatement. Genya had outdid herself, both with the decorations and the dress. If Zoya had thought she had made a great work with the coronation, what she had managed to create on this day put everything else to shame. Zoya didn’t remember much of it. It had been a whirlwind of colours and voices, people kissing her hand and offering their congratulations, dancing, and music and mostly a lot of drinking on their part. The ceremony had been long and complicated, but as usual, Nikolai had made everything more bearable. Somehow, he had managed to make her feel like they were the only two people standing in the chapel, the same one that held such awful memories and was now a place of celebration.

She had chosen not to wear gold, and they all went with it. Once had been enough; silver was more fitting for a dragon queen that commanded the storm. Being a queen had its advantages in terms of breaking with traditions. Nikolai had walked the aisle with her; he had never left her side, he had never left the grip on her hand. Zoya could feel his intense desire to make this day joyful for her. She would never stop marvelling at his selflessness, at how good and pure his heart was. To her surprise, he had chosen to relent the traditional Ravkan wedding vows in favour of the ones spoken by Grisha. They applied a lot more to them than any other oath they could make.

We are soldiers. I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return. I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world and there is no one more fierce, passionate, and unbreakable.

There was not much else to say; everything they needed to tell each other, they had already done in the quiet of their intimacy. Everything they needed to share about what it meant to have each other, they already knew. But Nikolai had added something, lowering his voice to a whisper, only for her to hear.

I will always seek to make it summer for you.

He had spoken the words in Suli. A ridiculous Suli, with an accent as thick as Zoya’s one and probably quite the number of mistakes. Zoya didn’t care. She didn’t know much Suli either, but she had understood. She had felt the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless, all these people be damned. Instead, she had murmured her answer to him, searching in her childhood for the words, hoping his knowledge of the language was broader than hers.

You are my endless summer.

Nikolai’s eyes had sparkled, his lips trembled when he had kissed her, knocking her off his feet, and she knew he had understood too. The first half of the party had been slightly tedious. Her dress was heavy, the crown hitched on her head. But as the night went on and the brandy had started to flow, she had found she was enjoying herself much more than she thought. Nikolai’s presence glowed in the room, equally as handsome as her. It was well past midnight when people had started retiring, saying their goodbyes to the newly wed royal couple.

At last, they found themselves alone at a table with all their friends. Tolya was astoundingly drunk, much to their amusement. He was trying to convince Adrik to stand on a chair and recite some poetry with him. Adrik, who was incredibly smiling, seated next to Leoni who wore her usual thousand sun merry expression. Adrik had taken Zoya’s position in the Triumvirate, while Leoni held the post for the Materialki now. She and Genya were deep in an argument about some sort of poison used to make people sleepwalk. Genya was laughing, her head thrown back, a glass of honey tea in her hand. Seeing her happy was a sight for sore eyes. Zoya knew they were all missing David more tonight; her eyes wandered on her friend’s kefta, which stood a little too tight around her stomach. The bump was starting to show clearly right now, four months into the pregnancy. She was beaming. It takes a village, people said about raising a child. This child would definitely never be alone. Alina and Mal had retired earlier, eager to return to their kids. She had held Alina in an embrace a little longer than usual, trying to convey how wonderful her gift to Zoya had been, how much comfort the paintings in her garden would bring. In the middle of the room, Tamar and Nadia were still dancing, or trying to at least, missing every rhythm of the music. Tamar stopped abruptly when she saw Zoya watching them.

“I can’t believe you two pulled it off, at last!” She made a toast in their direction, making Nadia stumble.

“I can’t believe Nikolai pulled it off”, Genya smirked, toasting back to Tamar with her tea.

Nikolai shrugged his shoulders. “I’m known for always choosing the hardest quest.”

There was little hope to ever make them stop with the teasing. Turning her gaze, Zoya caught sight of Nina and her prince, who had traveled all the way from Fjerda to be here tonight. Nina was stunning as usual, in a dress that hugged every curve of her, stacking on a pile of pastries and forcing Hanne to taste each and every one of them. The reckless Heartrender didn’t miss the chance to weigh in on the conversation, popping a pastry in her mouth. “And to think Zoya was the one to bash me about falling in love with Fjerdans. It backfired right in your face.”

Zoya clicked her tongue. “At least I take care not to let people walk in on us having a private moment.”

“That’s on you”, Nina grinned, “But I guess now you know that the thing about Fjerdans being cold it’s just a myth.”

“Definitely a myth", confirmed Nikolai, winking at Nina. Leave it to the two of them to be inappropriate.

Tolya downed another glass of whisky. For a giant, he didn’t have a good resistance to alcohol. “Good luck Zoya, he’s all yours to suffer now.” He managed to mutter. “At least he’s not moping around about you anymore like a lost puppy.” Tolya, the most respectful soldier she knew. He really was drunk.

“I’ll still mop around about her, don’t worry.”

“I can manage, I think", Zoya answered to Tolya, curling her lips.

She sighed happily, tightening the hold on Nikolai’s hand next to her, while she watched the people who were now her family filling the air with their laughter. He put the glass down, gazing at her with amusement. His golden hair were ruffled, his elegant shirt crumpled, his skin heated. His eyes were filled with awe, a smile dancing on his lips. She felt her breath itch at the sight of him. Nikolai leaned closer to her, bringing her hand up to his mouth. His look turned soft, affectionate.

“You survived today wonderfully.”

Zoya fell silent, watching her golden boy. This is what love does. You fight for it, and it saves you. You build it, brick by brick, and it stays. The dragon spread his wings inside her.

“You built me a home.”

She told him, and cocked her head to the side, making some strands of hair fall from the elaborate updo Genya had weaved. Nikolai rushed to tuck them back into the ribbon that held them in place, the one she had taken from his pocket when he had proposed.

“You gave me something to build it for. Someone to fill it with.”

Zoya knew, in that moment. She knew that every blow, every pain, every loneliness she had endured had been meant to take her here. It had been meant to make her worthy of him, to make her believe they could have this. She knew every loss and every battle had forged her so that she could let herself love him. And Nikolai made everything possible. The weight of his hand in hers felt sacred.

“We will go on, you and I. We are going to be fine.”

It wasn’t a question. It was the strongest belief she had ever had. It was hope. After an eternity of fighting and suffering, the stone tumbled inside her, coming to rest. Nikolai nodded, closing his eyes and sighing. The world felt easier. It felt warm, and sunny, full of his light.

“Yes, we are.”

And they would. For years to come, they would be fine.

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Game Night

EZ Reyes x F!Reader

Request by @beardburnsupersoldiers: If you are still doing the roommate prompts....maybe number 3 with Angel, EZ, and reader???? Bonus points if all that delicious tension is happening between reader and the Reyes of your choice! (Prompts are from This List btw)

Warnings: language, alcohol, EZ being a sore loser

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was really fun to write! I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic quite like this one before so it was a neat little dynamic. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

EZ Reyes Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be added to any of my taglists let me know!)

“You grab beer for tonight?” you had your phone pinned between your ear and your shoulder as you tossed your grocery bags into the back seat of your car.

“I was supposed to grab beer?” EZ chuckled.

“You can’t even try to pull that shit, Memory Boy,” you laughed.

You could hear the smile in his voice, “Yes I grabbed beer.”

“You’re perfect. I think I’m still gonna go to the liquor store though.”

“What for?”

“…liquor?”

You could envision him rolling his eyes at you, forever fed up with your remarks, “I feel like that’s excessive.

“Live a little, Ezekiel,” you joked, “It’s game night.”

It wasn’t long after you had moved in with EZ you started up game night with him and his brother. It was a good way for them to unwind and forget about the stress of the club, and you just genuinely enjoyed their company. It was nice to play host every now and then, even if it was just for one extra person. You and Ezekiel made quite the pair.

You knew how potentially messy it could get, having feelings for your roommate. That’s why you kept your thoughts and emotions to yourself. But you couldn’t deny that there was something about EZ that was really hard to tear yourself away from. There were moments when you could swear that he wanted you too, but they were fleeting and you always ended up writing them off for the sake of your sanity. When EZ wasn’t paying attention, Angel gave you grief about it. He was at least gracious enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his brother, although on more than one occasion he would shoot you a suggestive look, and you would respond with rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

You popped open the door to your apartment, multiple bags hanging from each of your arms. EZ turned and looked over at you from where he was situated by the counter, pulling together food for the three of you to eat later. He laughed as he walked over and offered to take some of the bags from you, but you waved him off.

“I have a very delicate balance here, Ezekiel,” you laughed, “If you take one I’m gonna tip over.”

He laughed as he stepped out of your way, “Got more in the car?”

You gave him a disbelieving look, “You think I was raised to make more than one trip from the car with groceries?” you shook your head as you carefully started sliding bags off your arms onto the floor, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “My bad. Didn’t mean to insult your honor.”

He helped you put the groceries away before he got back to getting food ready. You made your way to the closet in your room that housed an absurd number of card games and board games. You had always meant to bring Cards Against Humanity to the clubhouse because you felt like it would make for an extremely fun night. You’d have to just put it in EZ’s bags one of these days so it would turn up there on its own.

You heard the sound of your apartment door shutting, and moments after Angel’s voice echoed through the apartment, “What game am I whopping your asses at tonight?”

You laughed loud enough so that he would hear you from the other end of the apartment, “You’re toast, Reyes. You don’t stand a chance.”

He appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, “Stand a chance at what? What’s the game of the night?”

“Wanna do drunk Uno?”

He laughed, “That sounds dangerous.”

“Really? Less than two minutes ago you were saying that you were gonna whoop everyone’s ass tonight. Now you’re backing out?”

“I didn’t say that. Gimme the fucking cards,” he swiped them from you with a laugh before heading back towards the living room.

Plates and beer bottles were scattered on the edges of your coffee table while the three of you took up the center of it with your Uno game. The bottle of tequila rested next to the deck in the center of your table, waiting for one of you to lay down a draw four and make the next person take a shot along with their cards.

Angel had been sitting back and watching you and EZ trying to destroy each other all night. Angel was the king of talking smack, but tonight he was more interested in spurring the two of you on than getting you riled up himself. It was an effective tactic, too, because the amount of tequila he’d had to drink was minimal. Instead, he happily worked his way through a couple beers with little to no interruptions. He was really just waiting for one you two to get enough alcohol in your system to do something about your feelings. He was sick of watching the two of you dance around it.

“Angel shuffles next game,” EZ said with a shake of his head, “There’s no way you fairly ended up with all of those cards.”

“You’re just mad because you hate the taste of tequila,” you teased, “But fine. If it makes you feel better,” you handed the deck over to Angel, “Here you go.”

“Told you he was a sore loser,” Angel chuckled as he shuffled the deck of cards.

“Shut the fuck up,” EZ laughed as he threw a loose bottlecap at his brother.

Despite Angel being the one to shuffle the cards, EZ was looking at another loss. You were kind enough not to say anything, but the look in his eyes as you smiled across the table at him let you know that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You’re about to go 0 for 3, little brother,” Angel laughed as he put a card down.

“Thank you, Angel, I wasn’t aware,” EZ chuckled and shook his head as he looked over the cards in his hands.

You stretched your legs out underneath the coffee table, not realizing that Ezekiel had done the same thing not too long before you. Your foot brushed lightly along the inside of his thigh as you stretched and he instantly jerked his leg, causing his knee to slam into the bottom side of the table. He cursed under his breath and Angel looked completely lost, not having realized what happened.

You, however, were sitting there with a smirk on your face as EZ looked over at you. The look in his eyes gave him away and you could see him make a concentrated effort to take a deep breath.

“Suck it,” Angel completely moved on from the tension between you and EZ as he threw down his last card, “Alright. That’s it. I’m out,” he slowly rose to his feet.

“Leaving already?” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“Already? Listen, querida, you make me take any more shots I won’t be able to ride home. Some of us have shit to do tomorrow. Imma take my win and leave,” he walked over and kissed the top of your head, “Keep whooping his ass for me. It’s good for him.”

He and EZ gave each other a brief hug, EZ not getting off the floor to do so. Angel looked back and forth between the two of you one more time before shaking his head and making his way for the door. Once it shut behind him, you looked back to EZ with a smile.

“Just you and me now, Ezekiel,” you said as you placed a card on top of the one Angel had just laid down.

“Yea, Angel isn’t here to team up on me with you anymore. You’re done for,” he chuckled.

That was the last thing that was said between the two of you for a few turns. You kept looking at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking as if it weren’t already painstakingly obvious.

“Uno,” you said as you got yourself down to one card. You paused, waiting for EZ to get enthralled with making his next card choice, “How’s your knee, by the way?”

He flicked his eyes up to you, “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” you nodded, a smirk on your face, “good.”

He lowered his cards, “What?”

You shook your head, “Just wondering. Sounded like it hurt. Thought it might’ve thrown off your game a little bit.”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he set a card down, “I’ll be alright. Draw four,” he pushed the bottle towards you.

You chuckled as you poured yourself a shot and got back into the game. The two of you were able to drag it on for a while. By the time you were getting towards the end of it, both of you were kneeling, leaning onto the coffee table as you tried to beat each other to the last card. You were down to two cards left, EZ only had four. But you could see him sweating it out, not wanting to have yet another loss for the night.

You laid a card down, chuckling as you said, “Uno.”

He groaned, clearly agonizing over which card he was going to put down next. You bit back a laugh, not wanting him to accuse you of trying to distract him. With a deep sigh he finally picked a card and set it on top of the deck between you. You looked back and forth between that card and the one in your hand multiple times, dragging it out.

Finally, you looked up at him and smile, laying the card down, “Take a shot, Reyes.”

His eyes grew wide as he looked down at the draw four that was staring him in the face. He looked up at you, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Read ‘em and weep,” you laughed as you sat back on the carpet.

“You’re so done,” EZ laughed as he stood up off the floor.

You let out a scream that turned into a laugh as you jumped up off the ground, trying to run to your bedroom and shut the door before EZ could get to you, “Angel’s right, you are a sore loser,” you laughed as you scrambled.

You threw open the door to your bedroom and were about to jump inside when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, his hand landing firmly on your stomach as he pulled you back towards him. You laughed as he spun you around, but your breath quickly got caught in your throat when you realized how close he was to you.

“I won fair and square,” you tried not to let your nerves shine through.

“Fair and square seems like a stretch,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but to focus on the way his fingers pressed into your skin. You swallowed hard, “Why is it more likely that I cheated than me just being better than you at Uno?” you laughed, “What you do want, a consolation prize?”

As soon as you said it, you almost wanted to take it back. Almost. EZ smirked, “What kind of consolation prize?”

You wanted to look anywhere but at him because you could feel what little resolve you had fading away quickly, “What’re you thinking, EZ Reyes?”

He leaned in close so that his lips were practically touching yours, but not quite. You took a deep breath before closing what little distance was left, hands resting on the back of his neck to keep his lips pressed to yours. When it clicked in his brain what was happening, that you wanted the same thing he did, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing your chest flush against his as he kissed you. Your fingers traced along his jawline as his lips moved against yours—it was everything that you had thought it would be and then some.

When you finally took your lips off of his, you both let out quiet chuckles. EZ loosened his hold on your waist slightly, pulling back so he could get a better look at your face.

You smiled at him, “That a good enough consolation prize?”

He laughed, nodding, “I’d say so. I’m willing to forgive you for rigging the deck for that.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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roanniom · 3 years

Note

okay but 10/10 would pull hot lawyer in by his tie and make tf out with him

Get You Off

(Original photo source @the-adam-driver-files but made b&w by me)

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 1,252

Warnings: NSFW, simple PIV smutty smut, I guess semi-public (there are people in the next room)

The real question is, are you doing this before or after the trial? You giving into temptation when you spend time in his office, brushing hands over legal documents as he goes over the details of the defense? He’s telling you some important info about the one thing you have to make sure to say on the stand, but you’re too busy appraising the way his body looks in that gorgeous, tailored, fitted suit to pay attention?

Kylo urges you to stay focused, you’re not going to win otherwise. But right now you want to win something else. His eyes widen as you grab him by his luxurious silk tie and wrench him forward, bringing his lips crashing to yours. Though you’re the one who takes the initiative he catches up quick, hands rushing to your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your ass. You’re so eager, propelled forward by the tension that has been mounting over days of listening to his authoritative voice, watching those massive hands sliding across forms and papers, imagining them sliding through something else. He presses in against you, caging you in until you’re backing up, pulling him right along by the tie.

Until your back’s against the wall and suddenly you’re being lifted. Pressed against the brick of his small office. Small since he’s still new to the firm of course, though with his many talents you’re sure he won’t stay here for long. What’s certainly not small is the massive bulge that presses up against you as he grinds his hips against yours, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep you aloft.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you say breathlessly with a smile and not a single ounce of sincerity. Your statement obligatory but only teasing. Kylo’s lips bruise their way down your jaw, your throat, until his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, causing you to buck into him and cry out. You should care that the paralegals outside his office can probably hear you but you just don’t. You know that if roles were reversed they would be equally happy to wind their legs around this god in a good suit.

“You shouldn’t have committed that crime, either. Life is full of things you shouldn’t do,” he says in a low, measured voice. His eyes are hooded and he watches you as he tongues the spot he had bitten so deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, just as a hand slides down to cup your mound through your stylish cigarette pants. His index finger presses tight circles through the fabric, somehow zeroed in right over your clit, if a little off center, making you gyrate your hips in desperate need for more, harder, him.

“But you don’t strike me as a woman who says no to her desires just because they are improper.”

“And you don’t seem like a man who gives a fuck if a woman’s desires are improper.”

Suddenly you’re whirled around and seated on the edge of his desk, paperwork flying everywhere. You should probably care about that. Those papers were the key to your acquittal. To your freedom from scrutiny. To your ability to walk away from this world of hearings and trials and litigation. But as he pushes against you to make your back press into the hard wood of his desk, his body finding its place between your thighs, clothed cock nudging insistently at your core, walking away is the last thing on your mind.

“You, my dear, are more than improper,” Kylo says, his voice low. His hands leave your waist – rendered unnecessary by the intense way his pelvis keeps you pinned to the table – traveling up your body to rip open your blouse. Buttons ricochet and it’s absurd, its cliché, its overly dramatic, but the way his hands descend on your bra-clad breasts are none of those things. More like rough, delicious, demanding. He kneads the heaving flesh and licks a long stripe up the valley between them, starting from your sternum and ending with a lascivious suck right beneath your pulse point. You moan at full volume now, hips undulating against his, thighs pulling him in for more pressure. Kylo chuckles against your throat, holding you down against the table by the weight of his grasp on your breasts. “The word ‘obscene’ comes to mind.”

“That’s slander,” you reply, though it comes out in a huff. Suddenly Kylo reduces contact, pulling away his upper body. You sit up on your elbows in panic, only find him watching you with a bemused smirk, hips still slotted between your thighs, hands working deftly at his belt.

“What are you going to do, sue me?”

When Kylo frees his cock – and absolute monster, red at the tip and leaking with precum – his hands move to your hips, yanking down your pants as if they personally offended them. You’d teased him in short dresses and skirts every other day since he’d begun counseling you. How fucking dare you make it harder for him today, of all days.

Once divested of your pants you pull Kylo to by the tie again, this time slower.

“I’ll sic my lawyer on you,” you whisper against the shell of his ear when he’s finally bent over you fully, distracted by the task of lining himself up with your entrance. “He’s a real wolf. Goes for the jugular.”

Kylo practically growls in response before sheathing himself fully in your soaking cunt. You clench around him immediately, barely getting to flutter your walls before he’s pulling back and ramming right back in. The desk squeaks with the force of his strokes and the way your body slides against it. Oh yes. The paralegals are jealous.

“Sounds like he’ll get you off,” Kylo spits through gritted teeth, though humor dances behind his black-blown eyes. Your own eyes roll back in your head when his hand roughly takes hold of one of your breast, manhandling it and pinching at the nipple.

“Oh he’ll get me off – ah!” You almost lose your ability to speak for a second, which would a shame because it would mean you’d have to stop this verbal dance. Through heavy pants you speak up again. “He’s really…really…good.”

“Oh yeah? He’s good?” Kylo eggs you on. Sweat collects on his brow and his perfectly coiffed hair bounces looser, more tousled, but otherwise he still seems remarkably put together, in spite of the look of agonized pleasure rippling across his face. His cock protrudes from his open pants but other than that his clothes are surprisingly unrumpled. You, on the other hand, must look thoroughly debauched with your bare legs around his waist, panties pulled to the side, shirt ripped open and his hands pulling your breasts wantonly from their bra cups.

“Yeah, so good – fuck!”

“Is he big?” Kylo prompts, snapping his hips so hard suddenly you swear you feel him in your throat. When you don’t answer his hand snakes up to your face to deliver a light, orienting pat to your cheek. Your eyes open, slightly unfocused. “His cock. Is it big?”

“W-what – oh god – what does that have to do with being a lawyer?” you challenge, which gets a breathless laugh out of him.

“Everything, baby.”

And Kylo is big, and he does get you off – two times in his office, once in the court room the next day at your trial, and then twice again back at his office.

After all, he’s big good.

~*~

Smaller tag list since I don’t usually write Kylo and idk who is down (let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged in the future!) : @paper-n-ashes @foxilayde @maryforyou @maybe-your-left @finn-ray-nal-beads @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @hopeamarsu @aliveandlonely @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @safarigirlsp @millenialcatlady @can-i-pls-get-a-waffle @mrs-zimmerman @clydesfavoritegirl @direnightshade @historyandfandoms50

***Retagged because some apparently didn’t work - sorry if you got double notified!!!

#lmao did I write this out of nowhere because of too much encouragement - yes #Kylo Ren x reader #Kylo Ren AU #Lawyer!Kylo Ren #Lawyer!Kylo Ren smut #Kylo Ren x you #smut #writing #roanniom #tw: semi public sex #cw: semi-public sex

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savagetrickster · 4 years

Text

Caffeine Rush (NSFW) | BNHA

anime | character: bnha | bakugou katsuki

word count: 17,845

Themes/warnings: 18+, aged-up, praise kink, blowjob, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, swearing, mild degradation, unprotected sex

The office building that made Ground Zero agency was quiet and still. The appointed office hours were over hours back.

Most staff had already retired for the day. Among the black, lifeless screens on the desks, only hers stayed running bright and full of words on its screen.

The cursor behind the word on the tail of her report was left to blink repetitively as she dragged her feet to the pantry.

Her head felt numb with mental exhaustion as the weight of the nearing deadline reared its ugly head once again as the dreading thought of it reminded her again. The uneasiness and brooding anxiety that it brought about was no help in elevating the stress on her.

Between her heavy thoughts about the report taunting her from her computer screen, her legs brought her to the coffee machine.

Her hand fell into a mechanical motion as it placed her mug on the dispenser and lifted to press the Espresso option on the LED screen.

This was her third cup...no, fourth. Wait, or was it the sixth?

It didn’t even matter anymore.

She just needed to get through one more night of slaving away to finish it, and she would be fucking done with this long-due paperwork.

It was stupid of her to procrastinate so much; now she had to pay the price.

In the lonely silence of the pantry, her weary eyes watched the dark coffee dribble over her mug, sending one central ripple across the smooth steaming surface.

Her hand returned its grip to the handle once again, tugging it out of the dispensing holder.

A yawn left her as she turned away and instantly greeted with a startled-

“Fuck-” As the coffee in her mug was sent swishing and splashing over its rim as her hand collided into something solid with a curt jerk.

The scalding sting over her hand made her hiss. Her eyes flew up with irritation, her mouth opening to yell.

And she froze.

Then her eyes widened, horror seeping in when she realized she was staring at the angry face of...Ground Zero himself.

Her eyes followed his gaze down to the coffee dripping off his pants.

Well, shit.

A hasty jumble of ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry’ tumbled out of her mouth as she placed down her mug on the countertop behind while her other hand tore a handful of paper towels.

Her knees met as she quickly lowered herself before his stained pants.

Maybe it was the nights spent over the stupid report.

Maybe it was the coffee.

It seemed that all common sense or whatever would have kept her from grabbing the front of her boss’s pants had died along with her overworked brain cells.

Her apologies continued stumbling out of her mouth as her hands worked in a hasty pace on his pants, her eyes focused on wiping away the spillage.

Too caught up in her guilt and her panic to realize anything else-

The warmth in her hands was trying to pull away.

The stuttering mess of curses uttered above her.

The stiffening within her grasp.

He just returned from a long day outside to take some stuff and his craving for the aromatic bitterness of coffee was what brought himself straight to the pantry the moment he stepped through the main door.

It was absurd to think he would end up being groped by a female employee in the pantry. The brewing words he wanted to yell at the woman with fell at every brisk rub down him.

Bakugou could feel the resisting voice bubbling in his chest growing quieter at every stroke.

Fuck. While this was bizarre and all to him, the jolting thrill running up his length sent a delicious chill up his spine.

A particular thrill of friction brushing over the protruding vein on his clothed erection shook his next breath out of him.

Loud and harsh enough to draw her eyes up to him, her hands pausing.

And was met with a flustered yet irritated face glaring back at her.

Her eyes drifted back to her hands blankly at where her fingers were wrapped around - something was thick and kinda...lengthy.

In her hands was Ground Zero’s...oh wow.

She always had dirty thoughts about her boss but damn, this was not what she had ever imagined herself doing.

Along with muscular, lean built and tall stature that could give models a run for their money, the bulge accentuated in his flattering, somewhat fitting pants was a big distraction for the females in his agency...or maybe it was just her.

Exactly as she had imagined, he was indeed...big in her hands.

And it was...

Her fingers tightened slightly. ...hard.

A responsive jolt accompanied by a hissing curse made her jump, slapping her with a cold splash of realization.

Shit.

That she was on her knees in her company’s pantry, caressing her boss’s cock.

Oh shit.

Her hands flinched away from him as if scalded and her legs scrambled to get her away. A bright, red blush colored the flustered horror on her face.

She was so fired.

So so FIRED-

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Her eyes raised to find him looking down at her with a towering glare brimming with impatience and frustration.

“You think you can just get away like this?”

“I’m so sorr-”

“Weren’t you just fondling with my cock?” His usual husky voice sounded rougher and breathless. “Who the fuck said you can stop?”

She stared, stunned. Wondering whether her ears were failing her as well.

But clearly they weren’t because she could hear an intriguing strain in his voice.

The struggle in his gruffness and the red eyes prodding into her sent a needy ache within her, feeling a gush of her arousal soaked through her panties underneath her dress.

A slip of her eyes from his face, a shiver ran through her at how his nipples on his well-defined pecs were poking through the tight clad of his hero costume on him.

Her eyes slipped even lower.

The huge tent prodding through his pants made her eyes waver and her breath quivered through her lips.

Was she high from all the coffee? Or had she officially gone nuts?

She wasn’t sure what, but she didn’t even want to care.

The man of her dreams himself was offering himself to her.

She could feel her body trembling with a strong ache. The long, yearning ache that had followed her through the years and pushed her to join his agency.

An ache to be filled by Bakugou Katsuki, the world’s second strongest man.

An ache to feel him shove his cock into her.

An ache to make her wild thoughts about him come true.

She felt the last straining thread holding herself back snap as her hands flew forward, immediately working on the buckle around his waist.

Her lips were stretched over his leaking cock as soon as it sprang free from his pants.

The pre-cum spilling over from his swollen tip smeared over her lips as she moaned giddily at the melting heat in her mouth.

The hand tugging harshly onto her hair dug even more pressure into her scalp as a throaty groan joined her muffled moan.

“Ye-Yeah, show me what you’ve got.”

A grin stretched across Bakugou’s face as he pressed himself harder into her, feeling his cock sink deeper into her warm cavern, her moans spiked with a choke.

“And I’ll give you a good one later.”

His hand left her head to join the other clutching onto the edge of the countertop behind her.

Her walls clenched to his words just as her eyes watered at the pressure pressed to the back of her throat.

Fuck, he was as thick as she had guessed. But she had never imagined he would be so...veiny.

She drew back and relished in the heavy pants and moans from above, tracing her tongue daringly across the trails of veins running along with his lengthy girth.

Her hands raised to join her mouth, adding on with tightening squeeze as she lingered at the tip of his bulging cock.

A slow, elaborate lick across the weeping slit on it, her throat swallowed with a deep gulp.

Almost instantly, a dragging grunt rumbled through his body.

Humming in delight at what she heard, her cheeks hollowed as she started to suckle heatedly over the hot running tip.

Within the firm grip of her hand, she could feel his thick girth filling up, growing thicker as she welcomed more pre-cum into her.

The husky moans from above light a smirking glint in her eyes as she reached a hand up his length and clamped over his balls with a teasing curt squeeze.

Immediately, the husky moans from him hitched with a broken grunt.

Her walls clenched tight at how erotic that sounded.

“Y-You take my cock so well. Do you think you deserve to be fucked by me?”

The small collected pool of her own arousal on the floor beneath her heated cunt was rained upon by another surge as her walls convulsed with need.

“No, I-I don’t,” His stiff cock popped free from her mouth, a slick thread of her saliva remained connected to its flushed, bloated tip.

“Bu-But Bakugou-sama, you deserve to be inside me.” Her eyes were fogged with hazy heat and her cheeks red.

Bakugou…

His cock spluttered another rush of pre-cum.

...-sama?

“I-I’ve been ready for you ever since I laid my eyes on you.”

His red eyes shook with his expelling breath as a carnal jolt rippled through him, his cock tightening even more with the growing pressure within.

“Strip completely,” His eyes blazed as he spat his order, “Get on that table and show me how much your pussy wants me then.”

Clothes were strewn on the floor in an irregular trail to the broad table sitting in the center of the pantry.

Propped by her arms behind her, her legs shook with effort to keep her thighs wide apart for him.

Her heated cunt wouldn’t stop leaking, trickles of her slick fluid continued to join the collected puddle on the table below as the man took his time to approach.

The way his hungry gaze sat fix on her weeping folds stretched wide enough for the chills from the air conditioner to tickle her.

Red eyes took in the sight before him greedily.

The clench of her eyebrows on her forehead

The way she bit down on her lower lips.

Her face flushed red and her breasts rising and falling with harsh pants.

And the way her raised thighs were spread wide apart for him.

“Look at you,” Bakugou stopped before her, his lips forming a smug smirk at the sight for the glistening trickles slipping out of her, “...Already dirtying my property with your slutty pussy.”

Her breathy pants spiked with a moan as he pressed two fingers to her clit, pinching it briefly before moving down.

A gathering of her warm arousal coated his fingers as they ran lightly over her-

“I haven’t even done shit yet,” -and paused to pry her sopping folds apart. “But fuck, you’re already so wet.”

A gasping whimper puffed out of her as his fingers pushed through the thick coat and into her aching walls.

The wet, lewd squelch dragged through the air as her wispy whimper rose to a drawn moan at the delicious thrill his fingers made as they bulldozed their way into her sensitive walls.

She found it hard not to stare at the way his erected, weeping cock prodded against his toned stomach. Wondering with a wistful sigh about how it would feel inside her.

“Ba-Bakugou-sama, I-” A rough shove of one more finger into her tore a startled cry through her words.

“You what?” His lips widened with a grin as his fingers curled and stretched teasingly within her pulsing walls.

“P-Please…”

Her eyes raised to his, staring back helplessly at the amusement in his dancing red eyes, trying not to give in to her aching desire to return to his cock. “...fuck me.”

Her struggle against her straying eyes was not missed.

“Aren’t my fingers already doing that?” His knowing grin widened. “Oh you mean...like this?”

His calloused fingers inside her suddenly sped, thrusting through her walls vigorously.

Gasping moans rode through her throat as fast, furious friction of the loud, lewd squelches accompanying his pumping fingers rubbed the heated air between them frantically.

The building pleasure within her was making her dizzy with euphoric fever as her moans rose.

Uncontrollable hot tears escaped her dazed, wavering eyes as she watched his fingers work heatedly between her wide opened thighs.

Her walls were convulsing, resonating with her urgent need to release the pent-up pressure inside her.

Not even coffee could keep her this awake.

The jolting thrills were shaking her overstimulated body. “Baku-Bakugou-sama, I’m-”

His fingers were ripped out of her before she could finish. A startled moan elicited out of her at the same time.

The slick threads connecting his fingers to her spilling cunt quivered as Bakugou brought his hand up, his eyes admiring the result of his work with a satisfied glint.

He brought his heavily coated fingers before her panting, parted lips with a smug, intense gaze.

“Clean up this shit.” His gruff voice was commanding and blunt.

Her lips immediately latched onto his fingers, hastily lapping up her own fluid. It tasted weird on her tongue, but she didn’t bother too much.

She could feel her body shivering with impatience and frustration. One big gulp down her throat, her eyes raised to him with anticipation, in time to see his hand run over his cock.

“I think it’s time I give you your little reward.” His eyes met hers. “Be grateful that I, Ground Zero, even considered putting my cock inside you.”

“Tha-Thank you, Ground Zero.” Her eyes followed his hand as it slid over his swollen tip.

“Bakugou-sama suits your mouth better. Eyes up here,” The edge in his voice hardened. Her eyes raised to his obediently. “Thank me properly if you want me inside now.”

A thrill jolted through her cunt.

Fuck, in her head where her imagination ran wild, he was always the dominating one but witnessing it with her own eyes...Shit, she never knew he could be any more sexier.

“Thank you, Bakugou-sama.” A sultry purr reverberated in her chest as she sighed giddly at the sinful sight the way his leaking arousal was giving away his own needs for her cunt.

Today was probably by far the best day of her life. The sex gods if there were any, were smiling down on her.

“Now, get down onto the floor on all fours.”

Her slick arousal cascaded down her thighs the moment she eagerly set herself on her knees. Her softly arched back accentuated her ass as her excitement ran through her throbbing walls.

A shuddering chill ran up her spine at the light brush of his cock across her protruding ass as Bakugou planted himself behind her.

His eyes narrowed at the gap between her thighs.

“Is this how you show me your gratitude?” His hand landed on her butt cheek with a harsh slap. She responded to him with a sharp cry as her body jolted.

“Open wider.” A sharp sting rang across her other butt cheeks as another slap landed.

“...And I’ll fuck you like the little slut you are.”

His words sounded so...hot to her ears.

With a shivering whimper, she obeyed, lowering herself with forearms propped shakily on the floor beneath her.

Her butt cheeks spread open as she pushed her thighs apart for him.

His breath shuddered out of him as he watched the quivering threads of her slick fluid stretched, following the widening space between her sopping folds she made from parting herself.

All these...

A strangled groan escaped him.

...for him.

The tight pressure strained in his bulging girth even more. Fuck, he couldn’t wait anymore.

His hand slipped up her arched back and wrapped itself tightly around the end of her long hair, her back arching even more to his firm grip on her, as his other slathered his needy cock over her dripping slit.

The delirious whimper shuddering down to her cunt fanned his carnal ache to shove himself in.

The tightening grip on her hair was her only warning before his hip shot forward. His cock plunged through the pouring flow of her arousal and buried completely into her in one powerful rut.

The bright flash of pleasure searing through the sudden big, wide stretch of her cervix forced a choked moan out of her, hot tears spilling out of her widened eyes at how thick he was.

“Fu-Fuck,” A trembling grunt shook out of his lips as he drew himself back through the walls clamped in a vice-like grip around him. “What a tight little bitch you are-”

His cock rammed in one bruising thrust, shoving an instantaneous sharp cry out of her mouth.

More continued to tumble out of her as he continued to hammer into her, his hand tugging harshly onto her hair like it was his rein.

The other hand in a clutching grip on her hip as his cock drove fiercely through her pulsing walls.

Helpless sobbing moans forced out her mouth at every rough snap of his hip. Her eyes nearly rolled back every time he pounded into her.

A sly grin stretched his panting lips as he thrusted mercilessly into her

“Too much for you?” A slap on her ass drew another cry from her.

Somewhere between his powerful ruts, his hand had left her hair and joined the other on her hip in a harsh grip.

His intense gaze glared into her as she staggered weakly on her shaky arms with giddy whimpers and groans. She was a slobbering mess beneath his towering stance.

“Keep up with me.” A growl ripped through his words as he gave her another slap on her ass.

In the smothering heat ramming between her clenching walls, she was beginning to see white flashes behind her fluttering blinks.

Blazing brighter and brighter as she felt his rushing cock push her fast to the edge. She couldn’t anymore.

It was too...

“Ba-Bakugou-sama!”

A tattered shriek broke her voice as a starburst of electrifying ripple shattered through her shaking body, her orgasm instantly flooding his relentless cock with her rich arousal.

The hiss sifted through his gritted teeth as Bakugou bit back a groan at the hot burst and her rapidly gripping walls that were engulfing him greedily.

Fuck. This was it for him too.

Along with the squeezing tightness around him, the overpowering load in his cock forced the rolls of his hip to grow hectic and furious.

Her fleeting moans joined his breathless groans as he chased his own release with a fervor blazing in his red eyes, ramming hot blistering thrusts into her.

His desperate thrusts were accompanied with slippery, frantic squelches loud enough to mingle with harsh claps of their slapping skin as his hip met with her flushed ass heatedly.

One particularly sharp, powerful thrust forward forced a growling moan shredding through his mouth as his hip snapped into her and buckled erratically.

A loud sultry groan dragged through her throat as she felt the bulging tip of his swollen cock nestle into the deepest part of her with a rough prod.

The hot burst of his thick rich seed spluttering fiercely inside her made her eyes roll back.

The back of his muscular thigh clenched as he held his spurting cock snug inside her, expelling a wavering satisfied sigh.

Her dragging groan ended with a delirious whimper as she relished in the warm fullness inside her, her walls stirring their mixed fluid with fluttering clenches.

One thought ran in her hazy head as she crumbled to the floor, amused and amazed.

That she had done it.

Her dreams came true.

That she had actually fucked one of the hottest men alive.

#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #bnha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #mha smut #mha bakugou #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #anime smut #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo imagine

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Ringpops.

back to homepage pairing : gojo x gender neutral reader warnings : cursing, fluff. wordcount : 1688 a/n : i am so sorry for posting this late LOL, i’ve had a splitting headache all day and on top of that i had to make a buncha visually appealing aesthetic stuff for this so my poor brain is fried. welcome all new followers :) also this was rushed as usual... haha ████████████████ 100% Complete. Enjoy your game.

Valentines Day with Gojo was usually chaotic, but you didn’t blame him, it was apart of his personality after all. He didn’t take you to any particular establishment, really. You were curled up in your bed, exhausted from a long day of baking goods, watching sappy love movies, and overall shenanigans. You didn’t particularly mind this though, a soft lazy breeze preventing you from overheating, you sigh in relief. It’s like the weather knew exactly what you needed for a relaxing evening. Although, today seemed rather unusual. For the many years that you’ve dated Satoru, he never, ever dressed up. Usually he rolled out of bed, naked. A pair of grey sweatpants replaced what was usually his uniform pants. Just enough for you to see the start of his happy trail, in other words, a fruitful attempt of teasing you. He knew that he was attractive, and you didn’t mind fueling his ego. A toned body, almost like he had been specially picked by some divine being and gifted with society’s standards. But he had actually picked out an outfit for this particular Valentines Day, which you admitted was nice, but you also didn’t mind licking your lips at such a delicious physique. On the rare occasions that he picked out outfits, it wouldn’t be visually appealing, the guy only wore his work uniform or a casual t-shirt and a pair of shorts, or sweatpants. Yet, today? Weirdly different. Clad in a dark blue cashmere crewneck sweater paired with black jeans, he nervously picked at the clothing, fidgeting. You guessed he had gotten some fashion advice from one of his friends, as you also realized it was... Somewhat trendy. Chains dangling from his neck, a few from his pants as well, a designer belt... You had wondered who it was that was so gracious enough to make him hotter then he already was. The air of his usual carefree personality was gone, which was one of your favorite parts about him, and he had insisted this morning to take you to an actual diner, which you rejected. As soon as you turned your back to grab some more sugar, he pulled you back, hand on your shoulder. A determined look on his face that you could see even through his circular shades, clearing his throat. “Hey- just to be sure, pumpkin... You’re not denying because you think I’m poor or some shit like that, right? I’m financially stable as all hell, and I’ll buy you anything you set your eyes on, seriously. I need to spoil you sometimes, okay?” He spoke with a tone of nervousness, and you cocked your head to look at him, eyebrow slightly raised. “What’s with you today, babe? You never do this sorta shit.” Seemingly taken aback, he looked at you for a few seconds, unblinking. Wondering if it went one ear out the other, you’re about to repeat yourself before he shoves a hand on your mouth. “I just wanna try something new, that’s all. Carry on, sweets. Need more M&M’s? I can drive to the store and get them..” kissing your exposed neck a few times, suckling at the flesh, he snickered as you gasped, and that was the end of that. ‧₊˚✩彡. The thought never completely disappeared from your mind, instead it ran rampant. You were curious, after all. Why would perhaps the chillest and funniest guy you knew, be so scared and nerve-wrecked? “Hey, hey~!” you hear a familiar voice ring out, and you pick up your head from his pillow that you were laying on, adjusting your eyes so you could drink in his beauty fully. He wasn’t completely in the room, his head was poking out of the door just barely. “Finally, what were you doing? Took you a few years to come home.” casually getting up from your previous position, you hug your pillow, patiently waiting for his next sentence. “Ah... Uh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” he shuffled closer into the room, but he never quite came into view, the atmosphere of awkwardness was growing. Rolling your eyes, you giggle, desperate to have the mood be carefree yet again. “You suck at hiding shit, come on, lemme see, what’d you get me?” “It was supposed to be a surprise!” he said, exasperated, but he does it anyways. A beautiful scent of roses wafted throughout the room, a trail of spare rose petals danced down as he strode over to the bed, a playful grin on his lips. You cover your mouth with your hands, squealing. “Satoru! These are so pretty!” you ecstatically grab at the bouquet, the crinkling of the plastic music to your ears. You sniffed at the roses, pleasantly surprised at just how sweet they smelled. Vibrant hues of pinks and reds, small and large, a loose ribbon holding the bouquet together. Your smile is so wide, you struggle to hide it. “Glad you like them, honey.” he grinned, taking his shades off and placing them on his nightstand. “Hold on tight, more to come, love.” He takes a quick jog to the hallway leading to you two’s room, quickly getting out of view. Coming back just 20 seconds later, a teddybear half the size of him now limp in his hands, another ribbon around the teddybear’s neck. “For you, my sweet.” he sings, setting the plush down onto the covers. You look at the teddybear, staring at you with beady eyes, and back up at Gojo. “But babe, you’re my teddybear.” you cooed, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. You see his facial features soften, before he immediately plants a sloppy kiss on your forehead, “Wouldn’t hurt to have another one, would it?” You nod your head in agreement. The chill aura seemed to vanish into thin air as soon as you nod, the silence was almost deafening. He stared at you, and you stared back, you hear your heart steadily pound in your chest. Usually he would make some sort of joke right now and then, but he seemed unusually serious, to the point where you’d be concerned. “You’ve been acting weird all day, are you okay?-” you ask, but you’re immediately cut off. Gojo gets on one knee, and your heart races and you swear you see the light, playing with the hem of his jean pockets before pulling some sort of wrapper out. A wrapper? It’s a Ringpop, two flavors. Blue raspberry and watermelon, he hastily places the blue raspberry one into his pocket again, cursing as he struggled to do so, before finally repositioning. “Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” It takes a moment to register into your brain, for one, he was proposing with a Ringpop, but you guess that’s like him, his love of candy was absurd- but a Ringpop of all things? You feel your face fall, and you hope he doesn’t realize. The thought was good, but it felt strangely.. Tacky, in some ways. Nonetheless, your heart is still pounding rapidly inside of you, and you’re sweating bullets now. Skin burning to the touch, you look at him, heavily breathing. “Yes, oh my God, yes.” is all you can breathe out. His solemn face was now beaming, eyes bright and twinkling. He seems to scoff, like he doesn’t quite believe that you said yes to such a request, but he doesn’t want to give it another thought. Immediately diving headfirst into your face, your lips touch, and even though you had kissed him about a thousand times today, you still returned just as much passion. You felt like your whole body was about to give out, wobbling as he placed the Ringpop onto the covers. Forgotten, it sat idly, but you didn’t care, and nor did Gojo. Hand now at the back of your neck, the other on your hip, the sound of sloppy kisses filled the otherwise calm room. They were strangely chaste, nothing sexual about them, yet they felt so fulfilling you wonder how he does it. He was unusually good at kissing, but you don’t want to tell him that- the egotistical bastard. He pulls away from the kiss, and you whine, pulling at the collar of his sweater to come back- to please you- but he pays no mind to you. Instead, he rips open the wrapper, throwing it to the ground, pulling up your limp arm. With a confident toothy smile on his face, he slipped the translucent pink plastic ring onto your left middle finger. “That’s my middle.” you say, struggling to stifle your giggle. Who cared about getting a Ringpop? It was the thought that counted, right? You still felt horrible, for whatever reason. “I know that.” he doesn’t say it directly to your face, instead shuffling in his pockets once more, before he whips out what looks like a black cube. This time, you recognize an expensive label on it, a miniature velvety black box. “I just.. Wanted to make sure you were committed, and that you didn’t want me for my money or some bullshit like that.” he grinned, opening the box, he doesn’t give you a moment to eye it, instead plucking it out and slipping it onto your ring finger. Only then could you look at it, and you cover your mouth once more, tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. It was beautiful, truly, and you couldn’t explain it’s beauty with words. Glimmering diamonds, alongside a beautiful silvery frame- it was perfect. “...Do you like it?” he asks, once again an air of nervousness. Unable to speak, you hug him instead, now full on bawling. He laughs, rubbing your back, giving you another neck kiss. “Holy shit, you’re so cute, pumpkin. Or should I say, soon to be spouse?” he cooed. “Shut up.” you say, still sniffling, snot running down your nose. He chuckles dryly once again, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “If you’re not gonna eat that Ringpop, can I?” “Zip it, can’t you see I’m crying, dummy?” you respond, still ugly crying. It was the best Valentines day you had ever experienced, and nothing could quite conquer it.

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