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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Ch. 1

Shigaraki Birthday Week! MINORS DNI DO NOT PUT THIS ON TIKTOK

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, let me know if I’ve missed something

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: Tomura gets stuck taking an English class to graduate and is partnered with you, a bitchy try hard (his words not mine) for his final project. But over the course of the semester he finds that while he hates everyone, he might hate you just a little...less.

AO3 mirror

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming.

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more.

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?”

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair.

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie.

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late.

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest.

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled.

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in.

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class.

Of fucking course you did.

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall.

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of.

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that.

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule.

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates.

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you.

Fucking disgusting.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top.

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica.

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist.

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D.

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working.

This was going to be a nightmare.

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again.

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging.

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not.

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy.

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for.

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence.

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell.

And god if he thought you were irritating.

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking Clorox wiped down the seat before sitting.

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop.

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions.

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier.

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A.

That walking condescension on the other hand—

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask.

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it.

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.”

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression.

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence.

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees.

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with bated breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing.

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did.

“Really? Well they should.”

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head.

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.”

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie.

God just talking to you made his skin burn.

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see.

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed.

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable.

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option.

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else.

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.”

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up.

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever.

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch.

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long.

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either.

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something.

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat.

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.”

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out.

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support.

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day.

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge.

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.”

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.”

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks.

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him.

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity.

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff?

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him.

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension.

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers.

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone.

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either.

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours.

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand.

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students.

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text.

Unknown Number:

— pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #bnha fanfiction #tomura shigaraki imagines #fem!reader #incel!shigaraki #college au #bee.writes

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galateagalvanized · 3 years

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Wait you're taking prompts?? Omg I want to send you multiple hahah uhm how about '8 for codywan' ? I'd love some angst but I'll take whatever you like!

8. Shielding the other with their body

Cody wouldn’t say he has a favorite battleground terrain, exactly. Some are better than others—open ground is great for air support, and evacuated urban environments are well-mapped with plenty of cover—but some are worse.

Much worse.

In fact, Cody might not have one he likes the most, but cave systems are definitely the terrain he likes the least.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Obi-Wan says ahead of him, crouched behind a series of stalagmites as blaster fire reflects on the glistening cave walls. In the dull glow of Cody’s headlamp, he’s been steadily accumulating swatches of mud and grime.

“Which part, sir?” Cody asks, returning a few blasts with his Deece more for appearances than anything else.

“The lack of zombie bugs is nice,” Obi-Wan calls, and a twist of his wrist brings a couple of stalactites down on the droids laying down fire. “And the lack of radioactivity is an extra plus.”

It’s a struggle not to shake the man, sometimes.

“Sir, I’d like to log an official compl—”

Cody cuts himself off when he feels the ground jolt beneath his feet, just a little jump, but enough to make him hold his breath. These are ancient Geonosian caves, he remembers, on the very fringes of their society, and they weren’t made to handle creatures with skeletons on the inside.

Nor a heavy plastoid exoskeleton, if he wants to continue the metaphor.

The ground rolls beneath his feet, then, a massive circular motion like a boat caught in an ocean wave, and kriff, he thinks. The 501st had to blow the hive. They must have triggered something.

In the sharp highlight of Cody’s headlamp, Obi-Wan turns towards him with an arm outstretched. “Cody,” he says, and it’s not his usual here’s the plan tone. It’s just pure urgency, a hindbrain, instinctual kind of worry.

It’s a second of Force-given intuition that saves them both. Cody’s moving before his brain even fully registers the cave columns snapping while the walls and the ceiling and the floor all start, with terrifying cracks, to break apart.

His arms go around Obi-Wan’s waist as he tackles Obi-Wan towards the closest cave wall, away from the spreading devastation in the center of the chamber, where hopefully some structural integrity will be preserved. A limestone block slams into the back of his bucket, and it drives Cody’s head visor-first into the muck next to Obi-Wan’s.

The disorientation lasts until the rocks are settled around and on top of them. Cody comes back to himself slowly, cautiously, mentally mapping out the feeling in his arms and legs. The HUD overlay in his visor is the only thing he can see, and his chest feels like Alpha-17 has him in a full Nelson, but everything is mostly attached. In the bitter darkness, Cody tries to turn his head and can only move a few narrow centimeters to the side.

His visor’s equipped with a lowlight tactical mode, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he turns it on to find Obi-Wan’s mud-striped face directly in front of him. Blood is winding through the dirt dusting his face, turning nearly black on the grainy grayscale image of the HUD.

“Sir?” Cody says, clicking his back teeth to amplify the vocoder’s sound. “Sir, please, I—”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker open with devastating, terrible slowness. “Steady, Commander.”

“Sir,” Cody acknowledges gratefully.

His heart rate starts dropping back down from astronomical heights, and he can feel, now, the warmth of Obi-Wan’s waist beneath his outflung arm, the chum-chum of Obi-Wan’s body keeping him alive, the faint but steady pound of his heart. Cody had landed chest-down beside Obi-Wan with one arm around his general, as if they were partners in some Coruscanti waltz: hip to hip, with their faces turned towards each other.

Cody takes a careful breath and finds his lungs can’t expand quite as much as he’d like them to. His chest armor is trapped between layers of bedrock, and its compressive strength is the only thing keeping him—and, next to him, Obi-Wan—from the crush of the rock above.

The overlying bedrock can’t be too heavy, Cody knows. Plastoid isn’t exactly katarn armor. But it’s enough, he thinks with relief. He can be grateful for ‘enough’.

“Are you okay?” Obi-Wan asks, soft, and tries and fails to shift the arm trapped between their bodies. “Can you breathe?”

“Mostly,” Cody says, and he’s grateful for the rebreather in his bucket. The main problem is the restriction, not the oxygen. “I’ve been demoted to structural support, it looks like.”

“Ha, well. You’ve always had many talents.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and Cody realizes that he’s been staring into the blinding light of Cody’s headlamp. He swaps to infrared with a couple blinks, but, across from him, Obi-Wan keeps his eyes closed.

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody feels him shifting so that his far hand is tucked next to where Cody’s is wrapped around his waist. With effort, Cody tangles their fingers together as best he can. “But you don’t—you don’t have to keep putting yourself between me and what’s trying to kill me.”

“I don’t think I could; everything’s trying to kill you,” Cody says, but he doesn’t understand. Of course he does, he thinks, wondering if Obi-Wan had hit his head despite Cody’s best efforts. He’d put himself between Obi-Wan and the whole godsdamned universe, if he could.

“Even so,” Obi-Wan says, and it’s not possible, it’s not, but Cody thinks the madder blue gleam of his eyes manages to show up on the infrared. “Your life is worth no less than mine, my dear commander. We do this together.”

With a painful shift, Obi-Wan turns to put one hand up on the press of limestone above them. It doesn’t seem to move even a millimeter, but Cody’s chest can move just the slightest bit more, and he sips in a few more grateful breaths.

“Jorso'ran kando a tome, right?” Obi-Wan says, and something drops low in Cody’s gut to hear his general quoting Vode An, despite the horrible Coruscanti accent.

“We shall bear the weight together,” Cody agrees, soft, even as his heart spins itself like a centrifuge, separating himself into component parts, into duty and honor and an aching, desperate love for the man beside him. Obi-Wan is wrong, for once: there’s nothing Cody wouldn’t step in front of for Obi-Wan. Nothing at all.

His HUD beeps when a signal comes in, filtering through the limestone.

“The 212th have our distress beacon,” he says, and he feels Obi-Wan’s sigh of relief as if it were his own.

“Then we can bear this weight just a little longer,” Obi-Wan says, and he tightens his grip on their tangled fingers, and they do.

Send me a ship & a prompt from here, if you’d like!

#codywan #prompt fills #am writing #ask chel #lightasthesun #i couldn't quit put them at point rain but i did put them on geonosis haha #i'm not well-practiced in writing angst so i hope you like this anyways!#cw: claustrophobia #cw: cave-in

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Heart of the Storm

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 11.0k bruh why do i do this

[ ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] a lil fluff in beginning/end

themes : igloo sex?? LMAO, shy!reader, steam/sweat kink?, dom!shouto, teasing, temperature play

bio : Shouto warms you up in the midst of the blizzard, in more ways than one.

author’s note : this stemmed from a crack fic idea but damnnnn if it isn’t hot in here now :O this is also a piece for @bnhabookclub ‘s first event— the provisional licensing exam! i’m using prompt #9: “Your lips are really warm.”

tagging: @simplybakugou thanks for beta reading lovely ♥︎ & big thanks for thirsting with me & basically directing the fic @lildreamer93 ♥︎

also available on AO3 here

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

🅃he dark clouds approaching the mountain paint the sky in an ominous manner, the wind scraping your raw cheeks. You place one foot in front of the other, the snow crunching with protest underneath your weight. Your nose is runny, tucked beneath a thick scarf, and your eyes are glassy from the freezing winds that only seem to be intensifying. The thick coat does its best to block the wind from your body, but the powerful gusts manage to sneak through the fastenings down your middle, allowing cold to quietly spread into your body.

A hand around your forearm rustles you from your bleary focus on the path ahead of you. Your accomplice’s heterochromatic gaze pierces into your tired eyes, the only parts of your faces that aren’t tucked away under layers of clothes. He gently pulls your arm towards him, and with his gloved fingers wrapped securely around your limb, he guides you off of the path. You enter an empty snowbank littered with skinny, ice-covered trees, almost collapsing on the slight decline of the trail.

Shouto catches you awkwardly, the thick outerwear making his movements slower than usual. But he holds you steady, refusing to let you fall into the thick carpet of white that licks up to the middle of your calves. Pulling your body close to his, his worried eyes fall on your closed ones, making his heart thump against his ribcage. With your head laying on his shoulder, he leans forward and talks in a slightly heightened voice so you can hear him over the screaming winds. “Y/N-san, let’s take a break,” he suggests, but it doesn’t sound like there is much room for disagreement.

You nod weakly, your gloved hand finally coming up out of your pocket to push yourself off of him to show him you still have some strength left. It’s just so damn cold.

Shouto frowns underneath his scarf, his hands falling from your figure as you stand on your own once more. He watches you lean against one of the thin trunks that pierces through the chalky blanket on the ground. He can tell you’re exhausted, and he won’t lie— he’s not feeling his strongest at the moment either. His left hand offered to you, you grab onto his arm for support, mustering up the strength to continue the trek to your destination.

But he steers you into the middle of the clearing, where no spindling trunks break the perfect layer of ivory on the forest floor. He shakes your hold off of his arm much to your distaste, but as soon as he’s freed the limb, he wraps it around your shoulders, collecting your body into his chest. You bend into him willingly, your hidden cheeks feeling warm for the first time in hours.

With you secured tightly against him, Shouto pushes down the scarf covering his face, his teeth gripping the fingertip of his right glove. Your eyes widen as he exposes his hand to the howling, icy winds, and a part of you wants to immediately grab his fingers and tuck them away from the offensive temperature. But you can’t help the awe that blooms in your chest as a stream of frost explodes from his outstretched palm. He flicks his wrist casually, and the ice that lands on the ground builds around you into an effortless, shiny dome. He continues the motion until the bellowing wind no longer assaults your ears, and your eyes are no longer watery.

Your gaze roams over his creation, admiring the way the ice has a perfect sheen, halfway clear enough to produce a distorted reflection that peers back at you. Your shaking hands snake out of the pockets in your jacket, hesitantly hooking the material of your scarf down to tuck under your chin. “W-Wow, Shouto-san, this is… incredible,” you murmur, eyes finally landing on the tall male who’s currently savoring the cute, dazed look on your face.

His mouth curves into a half smile, his expression softening at your pink cheeks and nose. “I’m going to step out and thicken the walls before the storm hits, so just sit tight, Y/N-san. I won’t be long.” He turns and removes his other glove, placing the pair on the glistening snow by his feet. He activates his quirk, blasting a hole half his height into the side of the dome, and leaving your field of vision.

You quickly pull the scarf back up over your face. Even if the formation Shouto had created shields you from the full force of the wind, the powerful gusts still creep into the dome and tousle your clothes. You waddle over to his gloves, collecting the cloth and tucking it under your arm so the snow doesn’t dampen the material. You shake the heavy pack down your shoulders, frowning as it lands unceremoniously into the snow. Your clumsy fingers quivering, it takes a few tries to pinch the zipper— but you finally latch on and pull it sideways triumphantly, your other hand searching for the black, waterproof material inside.

You finally find the tent at the bottom of your backpack, and you unfold it haphazardly, spreading the textile across the top of the snow. Hopefully the fabric will be thick enough to stop some of the cold from the frozen ground from seeping through. Your mind wanders as your hands run over the thick material, thinking back to just days before you were caught in this blizzard.

Your agency had been working with Shouto’s in order to take down a ring of criminals who were known for slipping into the shadows after committing their heinous acts, due to their extensive knowledge of the Japanese landscape. You and Shouto had been in the same group that was to watch over the foothills of the mountains surrounding the village that was known to be their next hit, but the villains had scattered upon seeing the group of heroes. You had each been prepared with packs, clothes, and rations, but the ensuing blizzard was quite the surprise. You weren’t sure how exactly you ended up with Shouto, just the two of you, but you could not muster up even a scrap of a complaint. He was so charming and handsome after all— if you had to be stuck in this storm with anyone, you were glad it was with him. Not to mention his quirk seemed like the perfect match for the cold storm almost upon you.

You’re torn from your thoughts as Shouto’s frame hunches through the hole he had created, his back to you as he seals the tunnel with more ice. You realize how much darker it had become, the ice not nearly as transparent as before. You wonder how much he had thickened the walls of your refuge, or if the dark was due to the icy squall that had begun to howl outside.

Shouto turns, heaving out a sigh as he drops the pile of logs he had carried, the cylindrical segments rolling on the icy snow. He takes in the tent on the ground, and lets out a breath of air as he forces the hood of his jacket off his head, his scarf once again falling down to reveal his face. “Looks like we’ll be here for awhile,” he humors, crouching down in the center of the floor and directing his left palm there. Flames lick his skin as he melts the snow, a puddle forming in the center of the ground before it evaporates, leaving a rocky, earthy terrain underneath. “Perfect,” he murmurs, positioning the logs into a triangular pile, keeping the flame on his palm lit to provide enough light.

You watch as he nods absentmindedly at the wooden stack on the ground, lowering his hand to the logs and letting the flames lap at the bark. You chuckle hastily, making his eyes dart towards your face. At his inquisitive look, your gaze drops to the flames starting to take on the kindlings. “Shouto-san, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you state bashfully, sitting down atop the tarp. You add a bit quieter, “I think I would’ve froze to death by now if I hadn’t found you.”

A miniscule shade of pink flashes across his cheeks, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from your words or from the cold. He intently watches the flames grow for a moment before his eyes jump to yours, the small smile resurfacing on his rosy lips. “I would never let that happen, Y/N-san.”

Unsure how to respond, your eyes dart away from his, landing on the fire once more. “Won’t that melt the, uh… igloo?” You ask, looking at the high ceiling of the dome directly over the growing embers. Shouto had made the structure a considerable height, so you figured he had accounted for it, but you wanted to change the subject anyway.

“I tried to make the top of the structure far away enough so it won’t… but even if it does, I can just refreeze it,” he assures, standing up and walking over to you. You scoot to the side as he sits beside you, taking advantage of the tent. You nod as if you hadn’t already come to that conclusion, taking a shy glance at him.

He’s a respectable distance away from you, but close enough to reach out and touch. He catches your glance, the gentle smile still gracing his mouth. Your eyes widen as you notice a long scratch on the side of his face, slashing over the bottom of his scar. “Shouto-san! Are you okay?” You scoot towards him, your hands reaching out to touch his face. His eyes widen at your bold gesture, and he stiffens as you take his chin into your gloved hands.

Shouto lets out a stifled chuckle, his hands folding tightly on the tops of his legs. “It’s just a scratch.” Even if it’s through the thick sheepskin mittens, he allows himself to enjoy your touch for a moment. He shakes off his own backpack, your hands sinking off his face as he holds it up in one hand and jerks his head toward it. “I’m better off than this thing, anyway.”

The backpack is torn, the majority of the bag totally missing as if it had been ripped away forcefully; completely shredded. You gape at the object, then check the back of his jacket to thankfully discover it’s totally intact.

“The guy I was chasing had a strange animalistic quirk that gave him sharp teeth,” Shouto looks at the disheveled rucksack, “and claws.” He points at the scratch along his high cheekbone, shrugging his shoulders in a relaxed manner. His stomach flips at the frown that blossoms on your lips.

You turn away from him and rummage through your bag, making an exclamation as you find the small first aid kit you had packed. His eyebrows raise as you look at him shyly, pulling off your gloves in a modest fashion. “Please let me patch you up,” you appeal, grabbing the tube of antibiotic ointment hastily and uncapping it. “I want to feel like I’ve at least helped you in some way today. My quirk isn’t very useful out here,” you chuckle sadly, eyes trailing off to the side of his face.

Shouto nods crisply, his gaze trained on the hand stretching toward him. “Thank you,” he mumbles, watching how your bare fingers shake violently. He knows you’re cold, but it shocks him when your fingertip touches his cheek— the icy feeling making his skin prickle. He allows you to spread the cream across the cut, but immediately once you’re done, he envelops the back of your hand in his own, long fingers folding around yours. “Y/N-san, you’re so cold,” he says almost to himself, his other hand following the same action.

With your hands in his, your face blooms into a heated flush, a gentle gasp escaping you at the tingles that sprout on your skin fed by his natural warmth. Your reaction spurs him on, and he transfers your hand so that both of them are tucked neatly into his left. The burst of intense heat makes your eyes go wide as he activates his quirk ever so slightly. The sheer strength of even a fraction of his power sends a chill down your spine, a fuzzy numbness rushing through your hands as they regain feeling.

“S-Shouto-san,” you gulp, attempting to pull your hands from his to no avail, “you should save your strength, I can use the fire— I’m fine!”

Shouto’s eyebrow quirks amusedly at your request. “This is nothing,” he counters, but upon inspecting your sheepish expression, he begrudgingly grants your wish, his hands placing yours on your lap before disappearing into his pockets.

Your newly-nimble fingers hastily grab a flat, rectangular paper out of the first aid kit. You peel off the strips from either side of a bandage, placing the sticky side diagonally over the scratch on his cheek. He seems satisfied with the way your fingers only barely quiver now, and he doesn’t attempt to take your hands into his again.

“Thank you for helping me, Y/N-san,” he smiles at you, making the cold in your bones feel just a bit duller. You nod, closing the kit and placing it on the ground next to your bag. The conversation dries, and you wrack your brain to think of something to talk about. You and Shouto were friendly colleagues, but you’d never really had the chance to talk to him alone like this, and you were both not really the talkative type.

Reaching into your pack, you produce a cup-ramen and offer it to him. “Are you hungry, Shouto-san? I have two, so I have more than enough to share.”

Shouto accepts the package, a grin spreading on his lips. “Now here you are, saving my life,” he jests, peeling the lid halfway before shoveling some snow into the bowl with the lip of the container, “I could get used to your care.” You laugh a little too hard at his joke, following his actions with your own cup. You hand him the cup and he melts the snow leisurely, the water turning to a boil before he closes the lid, placing the cup on the ground in front of you.

As he copies the actions on his own cup, your hands find the chunky receiver the team had given each member before the stakeout started. Turning the device on, you hiss at the static shriek that pierces your eardrums, quickly lowering the volume before checking each of the channels. “Seems like the storm is interfering with the walkie,” you comment, placing the malfunctioning device back into your bag.

Shouto nods thoughtfully, his fingers laced underneath his chin as if he is in deep thought. “The storm will probably last the majority of the night. We’ll have to camp here for a while and we can check how the weather is at first light,” he explains his plan and you agree.

The pair of you eat your ramen in a comfortable silence, your toes slowly gaining feeling as you hold the tips of your boots close to the fire. You share the filtered water you had brought with the man beside you, both of you drinking only a third of the water combined in a mindful manner.

With the blood rushing to your stomach to digest the processed noodles, your fingertips begin to grow cold again. You push up your scarf once more, covering your pink nose and sticking your palms out toward the fire.

Shouto watches you with careful regard before glancing at his watch. “Y/N-san, perhaps you should try to rest while we wait for daylight,” he suggests, eyes twinkling at how cute you look with your eyelids drooping heavily in near-slumber.

You shoot him a lazy smile, nodding at his suggestion. You find the thick, silky sleeping bag that takes up the majority of your backpack’s capacity, undoing the bands that keep it compressed together. Noticing his lingering gaze on you, you shoot him a confused look. “Are you going to lay down as well, Shouto-san? We can use the tarp here if we lay next to each other.”

He smiles at your offer. “I would rather keep watch in case the villains decide to surprise us.”

You frown at his responsible intentions. “No one is going to be out in this blizzard, though. If the villains are dumb enough to do that, then they’ll surely be popsicles by the time we find them. Please, you should rest too, Shouto-san.” You pat the space on the tarp next to your sleeping bag expectantly.

He chuckles awkwardly, palm landing on the back of his neck. “I… seem to have lost my sleeping bag, actually,” he trails off, looking at the scraps of his backpack that remain. “Most of my things fell out when I was fighting.”

As if the thought comes to you both at the same time, your eyes meet and a flush replaces his usual suave expression. “You can share mine,” you speak before the words register in your brain, and as soon as they do, sweltering heat infiltrates your own cheeks. “I mean— if that would— if you need… it wouldn’t be w-weird. Besides… we should probably stay close for,” you gulp, “b-body heat.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” He replies a little too quickly for his own liking, cringing minorly at himself. He looks sideways at you, hesitance clear on his face.

You nod at him and he stiffly moves to the other side of the sleeping bag, willing his breath to stay steady. You unlace your boots, immediately sliding your woolen-sock clad feet inside. You wiggle into the slot, heart racing. Shouto takes off his own boots and shimmies into the envelope with you. It’s a one-person sleeping bag so the fit is a bit snug, the front of his jacket brushing against the back of yours. His long arm reaches over your torso to zip the bag closed, instantly withdrawing his hand to his side afterwards.

Now that you’re pushing up against him, he can feel your coat is slightly wet from the snow. “You should take that off— it’ll only make you colder since it's damp,” he whispers in your ear, making you stiffen against him. Shuffling a bit, your bottom skims against his crotch and his breath catches in his throat. His eyes admiring the tight sweater that’s revealed as you shed the jacket, he realizes his jacket is probably the same. He removes his as well, his hips pressing into your ass but they’re gone before you can even blink, his folded jacket a makeshift pillow long enough to cushion both your heads.

With both your jackets removed, he can feel how truly cold you are; your body shivering and your breath slightly hitched. You curl into yourself as much as you can, willing the frost away by brushing your limbs against each other slightly. The sleeping bag has good insulation, but it barely does anything yet since you offer no heat for it to retain. Your hands curl into half-fists, pressing them against your lips in hope to thaw them with your shaky breath.

Shouto’s warm breath on the shell of your ear sends a shiver down your spine. “Y/N-san, you’re shivering,” he comments, eyes raking over the smooth skin at the back of your neck. You gaze into the fire for a moment, begging for some kind of confidence in this situation.

You shift onto your back, rolling onto your other side so you can look at him. The wisp of courage you had scraped up is viciously snatched from you as your eyes meet his.

The emotion in his eyes is something you’ve never seen before, the intensity intimidating you so much that your lungs still mid-breath. His gaze is half-lidded, his hair falling perfectly over his eyes. Hot breath washes over your raw cheeks enticingly, making your skin prickle with apprehension.

“Can I…,” he trails off, and you’re surprised when you feel his fingers sheathe around yours, pulling your wrists directly toward his mouth. Your stomach flips as he breathes out, the warm air caressing your chilled skin. “Can I warm you up, Y/N?”

You swallow harshly, your eyes the size of dinner plates, you’re sure. But Shouto’s expression doesn’t falter, and your silence doesn’t bother him as he places the softest kiss on your knuckle. You’re shaking again, even though the cold in your body is pushed far into the back of your mind. “S-Shouto-san,” you peep, your voice an octave higher than usual. It feels strange to say his name so intimately, but he seems to enjoy the sound.

He lets out a long exhale, closing his eyes as his thumb presses into the middle of your palm, forcing your hand to open. “Your teeth are chattering— you’re so cold,” he states, a hand letting go of your wrist to jump to your waist.

It’s true, your skin is shockingly frigid against his, and your teeth rattle slightly at the loss of your jacket. His lips press against the next knuckle, keeping your gaze captured to his magnetic stare. His eyes are so intoxicating; one a refreshing aqua and the other a swirling storm of gray. They both hold an unspeakable passion; a force that quiets all your worries as soon as they sprout.

“I said I wouldn’t let you freeze, Y/N.” His fingers on your waist tighten and he pulls your body flush against his in one swift movement. Only the thick sweaters keep your skin from touching, and his hand slides up the curve of your waist, underneath the hem of the knitted fabric. You gasp, watching his wrist disappear at the bottom of the sweater as his hand glides across your skin. Even though this is his ice side, his touch is so warm compared to your flesh. You look back up to see he’s inched closer to you, lips nearly brushing against yours. “Are you gonna let me keep my word?”

You can’t seem to find any words, your body overwhelmed by his hot fingers dragging along your side. His stare demands your attention, and no matter how desperately you want to look away, your body refuses to follow your wishes. You can feel your nipples hardening against the cup of your bra, a warm tingle emerging between your legs. Your pussy flutters underneath your panties as he continues to kiss your hands, lips wandering over each knuckle, fingertip, and line along your palms. The realization that his touch is doing things to you only makes you feel more flustered.

Shouto’s hand weaves over yours, heat radiating off of him as he places your hand on the cusp of his jaw. “You’re still shivering,” he states, finally breaking eye contact only to glance at your lips briefly before his gaze returns to yours.

You find yourself nodding slightly, unconsciously welcoming his next intentions. Your fingers, now warmed and feeling fuzzy, push into the hair behind his ears, gently guiding his face toward yours. Your lips part with a soft whimper as his hand underneath your sweater flattens, the entire palm introducing a pleasant heat to your chilled skin. Shouto gathers you closer to him, strong arm wrapping around your waist tighter and pushing your face to fall only a short distance away from his. You can feel his breath on your face, warm and soft, as his eyes search your face for any hint of reluctance. He closes the space between your mouths at a turtle’s pace, allowing you ample opportunity to push him away.

But you don’t— you grab the front of his shirt with your free hand, the hand behind his ear pushing him forward so his lips lock with yours. A shared, strangled moan resonates off the walls of the igloo, lips pushing and pulling against each other at a feverish pace. The kiss is hot, and his lips feel like heaven against yours as his hands feather down your spine.

“Your lips are really warm,” you murmur as you pull away to catch your breath, eyes still closed and lungs feeling tight from a combination of the lack of air and the excitement— lust— pumping through you. Heat floods your cheeks as you realize you’d voiced your thoughts, an entertained look crossing Shouto’s features.

“Good,” he says as his lips touch yours again, this time more delicately than last. He kisses you for a moment, just long enough for you to lose your train of thought, before he pulls back quickly. “I’m gonna get you nice and warm, Y/N— I promise,” Shouto vows, capturing your mouth and claiming it as his, his tongue separating your lips and exploring your mouth.

You moan at the new sensation, allowing the wet muscle to dominate yours, body feeling weak, and hot, and wonderful. Shouto’s hands are still wandering over your skin underneath your sweater, rounding your waist to creep up your chest. Just as he’d been to initiate the kiss, his touch rises slowly, pausing just underneath the swell of your breast. The warmth seeps into your ribs, and you surprise yourself when your own hand leaves his chest to push his elbow up, moving his hand on top of your bra.

Shouto groans into your mouth, and you swear you can feel your panties dampen at the noise. Vibrations against your lips, your hand in his hair pulls gently at his scalp in response, only to elicit a second, similar sound from his throat. His hand squeezes your chest just the right amount— not too rough, but not gentle either— making you whimper into his mouth. He thumbs over your nipple through the thin silky material, lips curving into a satisfied smirk when you moan louder this time, fingers tightening your hold on him.

Your tongues tangling in a slow, sensual embrace, you drink up the heavy breaths that leave his open lips, high on his warmth and his touch. The thumb rubbing along your bra traces the edge of the cup, toying with the soft flesh underneath.

“Is this okay?” Shouto inquires huskily against your lips, inducing shivers to shoot toward your core. He’s crawling atop your body to hover above you, the sleeping bag rustling as he stays close to you, one leg splitting between yours and the hand not on your breast moving to prop himself up.

“Y-Yes Shouto-san,” you whine, eager to feel his tongue back on yours already. Your limbs are still shaking from the cold, but the excitement that blooms from his touch mixes into your veins like warm nectar to combat the icy frost that lingers there. His knee isn’t quite high enough to touch your pussy, but your cheeks become warmer at the realization that you want it to be.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he murmurs before his lips press against yours again, eliciting a weak moan from you. His kiss is warm and intoxicating, yet firm. Tongue invading your mouth again, you sigh contentedly as his hand squeezes at your breast, thumb dipping underneath your bra to brush against your pebbled bud. He starts to move his body just enough to create some friction between the two of you, and you moan again at the novel sensation, your hand moving around his broad shoulders to dig your nails into his sweater.

Your mind is hazy, unable to focus on anything as his mouth lands on the skin of your neck, a breathy moan washing over your throat as he begins to kiss and suck there. You squirm underneath his wide frame, the feeling of his tongue rolling against you stoking the fire between your legs. Your body is beginning to feel warm, your heart beating erratically against your ribs.

Shouto’s hand wanders further up your torso, the hem of your sweater sliding up to rest on the top of his wrist. He smiles against your neck, pulling your bra down so your breasts fall out of the cups, his calloused thumb immediately caressing your nipple again and rubbing over it gently. “Do you like that?” He asks, lips trailing to kiss the underside of your jaw. “Because I really like that.” A forefinger joins his thumb and he pinches the nub, causing it to harden under his warm touch.

You cry out, head thrown to the side in pleasure. It seems that was Shouto’s plan all along, because he ravishes the newly revealed skin on your throat, altering between roving his tongue along your flesh and nipping his teeth softly. “Y-Yes, I like it, Shouto-san,” you answer breathlessly, your legs curling to draw his hips closer to yours. The feeling of his body flush against yours has an incredible heat surging through your entire being, caressing your bones and fluttering in your core.

Shouto’s purr rumbles along your skin, his head dipping down to place a path of kisses along your collar bones. Your hand flies up to grab onto his red and white locks, fingernails scraping his scalp gently and causing a moan to fall from his parted lips. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he praises, lifting your sweater over your shoulders and off your body. Before you can feel self-conscious, he swiftly delivers another kiss to your lips as he tears his own sweater above his head, revealing a pale torso rippling with firm muscles. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight hovering above you; his hair slightly messy from taking his shirt off as his gaze holds your own, a hunger blatant and all-consuming in his eyes.

You whimper as his mouth crashes to yours once more, your spine arching naturally as his arm curls around your waist, fingers moving to undo the clasp of your bra and succeeding swiftly. His kiss is slow and soft as he pulls the straps from your shoulders, tossing the item onto the tarp beside the sleeping bag.

Shouto looks at your naked form below him as if he’s a man starved, and you the most delicious feast he could possibly imagine. His hand moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes half-lidded and tongue poking out to roll over his lips. You watch as he leans down, warm lips brushing against your jaw and moving to trail down the length of your neck. But he doesn’t stop there; his mouth wanders further down, prospecting the soft flesh of your breast with kisses and long swipes of his tongue.

“S-Shouto-san,” you call his name when he finally reaches your nipple, mouth enveloping the bud and rolling his tongue around it leisurely, showering you with kitten licks that makes your pulse race. A long moan escapes you, your head thrown back onto his jacket and your eyes drifting shut as he begins to suck on your sensitive nub. “Oh, that feels—” you cut off as his teeth scrape your flesh, hips bucking up into his instinctively.

He only smiles, gently pulling your nipple between his lips and continuing to wash your skin with his hot tongue. “Does that feel good, angel?” He asks, his free hand moving to cup your other breast.

You nod even though he can only see the bottom of your chin, your mouth agape as rushed pants tumble out. Your pussy twitches in your panties when his mouth moves to your other breast, ravishing it in the same fashion. Your brows cinch, fingers woven in his hair and grabbing frantically at the roots as your body welcomes the waves of pleasure Shouto provides. A hand lands on the thick muscle atop his shoulder, gripping onto him and fingernails nearly breaking his perfect skin. Your hips buck again when his teeth graze your nipple, and heat bursts through you as your thigh rubs against something hard.

Shouto moans at the friction, the noise sending vibrations through your chest. “Fuck, Y/N,” he grumbles, popping off your breast and returning to hover his face above yours. “You know you’re absolutely gorgeous, right?” He doesn’t allow you to reply, lips conquering yours and sending a sweet chill through your body.

You make a noise of surprise when he begins to gently grind against your crotch, rubbing his erection onto you. The action has your brain short-circuiting, lust surging through your body now more than ever. God, you want him. You want him bad.

Shouto seems to feel the same way, for he presses your bodies flush against each other, and you whimper when his hot skin touches yours. Another meek noise floats out of you as he shuffles the two of you into a new position, landing on his back with you hovering above him this time. He’s kissing you again, and your brain can’t seem to catch up with him, for he now has two free hands and he uses them to grab your hips, guiding them to move along his own and continue providing the friction of the grinding from before.

Your head is spinning at the stimulation, your slick clit rubbing along the inside of your panties. And even though there’s two pairs of thick pants between the two of you, you can feel your pussy right above his clothed cock, dragging deliciously against him.

His fingers move to the front of your pants, ripping the zip downwards and digging his thumbs into the space between the material and the flesh of your hips. Shouto pushes the cloth off your body with surprising ease, your ass coming into contact with the sleek lining of the sleeping bag. Leaving the material bunched at your knees, Shouto places his hand on the back of your neck and guides your lips to land on his, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before he pulls it into his mouth gently, a growl-like moan rumbling in his throat.

You jump slightly when a hand lands on your hip, long fingers sprawled out over your panty-clad ass. His dull fingernails drag along the cloth, digits looping underneath the band at your hip and toying with it— pulling it down gently before putting it back in place, and repeating the action. You whine against his mouth, falling to your elbows on either side of his head, your hair cascading around your faces.

Shouto’s hand slips between your legs, cupping your pussy in his large palm. “Do you want more?” He teases, tone dark with desire and a hint of playfulness. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you moan quietly, trying to grind yourself against his hand. The action only makes him grin, his other hand cupping your chin and guiding you to look at him. “Answer me, beautiful.”

Your throat tight and mind foggy, you whine at his demand, eyelids falling closed as you lean into his touch. “Yes, I want m-more, Shouto-san,” you respond, humiliation spurring a heat to rise to your cheeks. You’d never begged for a man’s touch like this, and the thought has you both wanting to hide in mortification and spread your legs wide for him.

“Mmm,” he mumbles, moving your face to place your lips on his again. The very tips of his fingers begin to move along your slit through your underwear, starting with gentle circles on your entrance and trailing up to your clit.

His touch has you gripping his hair again with both hands in trembling fists, broken whimpers dislodging from your throat. His long digits toy with your pussy through the sheer, soaked material, separating your folds with his pointer and ring finger for his middle to dip into you just a tad, pushing your panties inside yourself slightly. You cry out, for even at such a shallow depth, the heat leaks from his fingertip into your pussy, melting away your inhibitions. It’s not enough to stretch you, but your walls twitch in anticipation around the digit, causing a smile to spread on Shouto’s lips.

He kisses the other side of your mouth, your eyes still shut tightly and your lip caught between your teeth. “Do you want even more?” He murmurs, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Say my name, Y/N.”

His command is absolute, tone gruff, like he can’t seem to catch his breath— it makes you look at him, only to send another shocking thrill toward your cunt at the lustful fervor in his gaze. You lick your lips, croaking out a shy, “Shouto-san.” His thumb grazes over your clit in reward, but you only push your hips down in search of that searing fingertip. When he moves his fingers in accordance with your body, you let out a distressed whine. “Pleaseee,” you whimper, placing a hesitant kiss on the column of his neck.

Shouto sighs at your appeal, deft fingers curling around the edge of your panties to gather them to the side of your throbbing pussy. Your body jolts as he brushes your slick folds with the lightest touch, another noise of desperation floating past your lips. “No, beautiful,” he murmurs, voice deep enough to drag you under like a powerful tide pulling you lost into a sea of pleasure, “My name— just my name.”

The gasp that you surrender surprises you, and you’re not sure if it’s more from his request or from his thumb beginning to circle your needy clit. A string of low moans flees your throat as he presses harder against you, the digit sliding around the bundle of nerves with ease, slick with your arousal. “But… but Shouto-s-san, I…,” you trail off, distracted as two hot fingertips begin to play with your entrance, curling just enough to hook against the edge of your walls and tease another groan out of you.

“You…,” Shouto continues for you, that taunting tone dripping from his voice again, “You don’t want it, Y/N?” He’s teasing you, but only because you’re so delectably responsive to him— he can feel your pussy twitch against his fingers, your slick drenching the digits and making it irresistible for him to go even further.

“No— I want it,” you hurry to respond, fearful that he’ll withdraw his touch before you have the chance to feel him inside of you. Anything for that. “I want more,” you take a small breath, propping yourself up with your hands on either side of his neck, your eyes finding his. “Please, I— I need you… Shouto-s—”

Two fingers slide into you with ease, stealing away the chance for you to utter the honorific, instead rendering you helpless as a loud, wanton moan erupts from your lips. Shouto’s fingers are long and thick, the pads rough and already rubbing against just the right place. His other hand rests on the front of your hip, digits curled around your side as his thumb stretches to stimulate your clit. Your eyes roll back as he pulls out, your velvet walls shuddering and another sound of pleasure filling the still air inside the igloo as he pushes back in. You’re already embarrassed enough from his teasing and him cheating away the respect the -san represents, but a new wave of mortification crashes over you as the spring inside your stomach begins to compress. You’ve never been so turned on in your life, so embarrassed, so naughty— desperate.

“You’re gonna cum already, aren’t you?” Shouto’s voice cuts through your foggy, aphrodisiacal headspace, and you can only nod, jaw hanging open and broken mewls tumbling out. Your hands fly to grab onto his shoulders in favor of the sleeping bag covering the ground, nails grappling into his skin. You can’t even find the sanity to shield your dissolute, wrecked expression from his watchful gaze underneath you, which he laps up eagerly— only fueling his plight as he begins to curl the digits toward himself. He’s rewarded with a higher-toned squeal, your cunt squeezing around him until he can only repeat the ‘come here’ motion. “Go ahead, beautiful. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum for me,” he implores.

That’s all you need to topple over the edge. Your pussy grips his fingers snug, fluttering as a numbing bliss explodes between your legs. Hips rocking shakedly against his grasp, you release a ragged groan as he continues to rub circles on your sensitive pearl. Your entire body is filled with a blistering warmth; you can feel it from the tips of your ears to your still-curled toes. Collapsing onto his chest, your lungs gasp for air as your head continues to spin, a content thrum pulsing through your bones as your pussy continues to spasm upon his hand. “S-Shouto,” you sigh, one hand slipping down to rest on the other side of his chest, fingertips biting into his skin slightly.

Shouto exhales a similar sound, fingers leaving your sloppy hole as he wraps his other arm around your waist. Bringing his fingertips to his lips, he keeps his gaze locked with yours as his tongue darts out, concealing the first knuckle from your sight.

Horror floods through you at the sight; dirty, nasty thoughts pouring into your mind. You try to get him to stop, your cheeks feeling hot once again. “Shouto-san, that’s—”

You succeed to some degree; he pulls his fingers from his mouth, but only to press them against your lips, sliding the digits deep into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. “Bad girl, using honorifics,” he admonishes, tone suddenly dark and not at all warm nor soft as it was before— yet somehow it makes your cunt flutter in excitement, reawakening and already aching to be filled again. Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t gag, and Shouto only groans at such a discovery. “Don’t you think we’re past using formalities?”

He has a point, so you just flutter your lashes at him and moan onto his fingers, lips pursing around them and sending a shiver down his spine.

“Taste yourself— see, angel? You’re so sweet— god, you’re sexy, and you’ve no idea, do you?” He seems to be saying that last part to himself but you still nod, tongue wrapping around his fingers and making sure to clean him well. You want to show him you’re not bad; you’re a good girl, you can be a good girl for him.

Shouto swallows, eyes following your tongue as it wanders along his finger to poke between your lips, washing against his skin. He growls at the sight, ripping both hands away from you and ensnaring your wrists in his palms. With just one solid movement he tosses you underneath him, your back sliding against the silky lining of the sleeping bag and warming at the heat his body had left behind. You’re trying to find your bearings as Shouto fumbles with his pants, finally managing to rid one leg of the thick material and slip himself between your thighs.

Your heart begins to thump rapidly in your chest as you feel the smooth head of his cock drag against your folds, your cunt clenching in desire and your lip held prisoner between your teeth. Both of your ragged breaths tangle in the small space between you, your hands reaching to grasp the tops of his shoulders, legs spreading as much as they can in the confines of the single-person sleeping bag. Tossing your head back in agony as he teases your opening, coating himself in your slick, your cum. You’ve never felt so needy before— the urge to be filled and stretched around him dominating your every thought.

“Please— god, please Shouto,” you beg, and for a brief moment you find yourself wondering what exactly his cock looks like, the realization that you haven't actually seen it hitting you and yet here you are pleading for him to just put it in. What if he’s hung like a horse? And you’re about to be split in two— or what if he’s an average joe? Well from the foreplay he definitely knows what he’s doing so maybe—

Your entire body stills and a breathless squeal escapes your lungs as he thrusts into you in a single, swift movement. Your walls quiver in fiery pleasure as he penetrates you, his thick cock spreading you and filling you and reaching deep inside of you as his hips bump yours. You didn’t realize you were this wet; he slid into you in one go and by the feel of him, you know that’s no easy feat. But your mind doesn’t have any time to process it, for Shouto lets out the most sexy groan you’ve ever heard in your life. His head falls to rest against your throat, soft hair tickling your skin as you feel gentle pants wash over you.

“You’re so tight, Y/N— shit,” he moans again as his hips retract, pushing back inside of you slowly as if to test the waters. His cock glides inside of you, thick veins rubbing against your silky walls and making a soft whine struggle to evade your lungs. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Shouto swear, and a twisted sense of pride fills your chest at the thought of him being so into this— into you— that he’s lost all his usual self-restraint.

A few more tentative thrusts have you crying out for him, another flash of intense heat spreading through your body and each of your limbs. Shouto cradles the back of your neck in one palm, the other hand slipping around the back of your waist in order to bend your back to his liking. The angle pops your breasts up against his chest, and he swears again as your hard nipples drag across his skin. Claiming your lips as his once again, his hips begin to push into yours at a steady pace, setting the tempo at a slow but hard pace. With each crash of his hips against yours, you feel like your lungs have lost all function— his balls slap heavy against your ass, sweat starting to trickle down your thighs that come around to draw his body closer to yours, your wrists crossed around his neck and his lips slotting against yours messily.

If your mind was foggy before, now you cannot even see your own hands in front of you; your brain is dizzy and oxygen-starved, mind spinning in circles every time his hips knock into yours. Each thrust has him burrowing far inside of you, your pussy trying desperately to keep up with his quickening pace but failing— leaving you butterflied, completely open for his assault to continue. When your ankles lock behind his waist, heels digging into his firm ass, his cock begins to hit a new spot inside of you, and you wail out in shock and ecstasy.

“Shouto!” you exclaim, brow furrowing and letting out a particularly wanton moan. Your eyes nearly cross at the powerful sensation, that embarrassed feeling returning and rekindling the heat in your cheeks. From just one particularly angled thrust, the spring in your stomach makes its presence known once again.

Shouto is quick to take advantage of the weak spot you’d just revealed; his grip on you tightens as his hips begin to crash against yours, mouth sucking in your lower lip to hold hostage. Your eyes can barely stay open, but you fight yourself to maintain the eye contact Shouto offers. His stare is searing; sparks flying between the two of you as he scrutinizes every hint of pleasure you render.

The intensity has you gasping for breath, suddenly feeling hot— so hot; the sleeping bag retaining all the heat your feverish session provides. Even though you’re so close, your hands land on his chest hesitantly, tapping his sticky skin. Instantly his hips still, and he begins to examine you, a concerned expression overtaking his handsome face.

“Are you alright, beautiful?” He asks, not skipping a beat. Examining the flush on your chest and cheeks, he seems to come to the correct conclusion, turning to tear the zipper down the track toward your joined hips. Cool air washes over your sweaty skin, and you sigh at the refreshing sensation licking over your skin. You whimper as Shouto leans down toward you, frosted breath swirling over your clavicles and offering you instant relief from the hot flash that previously took over your whole being. “Guess I warmed you up too good, huh?” Shouto chuckles, and you smack his chest with a weak fist. He shifts his hips forward in response and you keen as his cock shifts deeper inside of you.

Shouto allows you a moment to catch your breath, continuing to blow cool air along your throat and chest. You bask in the revitalizing sensation, whimpering lightly as Shouto keeps a subtle and gentle pace, cantering into you just enough to keep himself hard. He kisses your neck and jaw, lips chilly yet sending hot tingles zipping through your body. “S-Shouto-san,” you mewl, sprawling out into his caress like a cat.

He only smiles against your skin, lips wandering all over your chest. The cold air radiating off the icy walls of the igloo collides with your hot skin and sends shivers down your spine. “San?” He hums, icy lips trailing along your breast until his tongue pokes out to greet your nipple. Your pussy constricts around him, his ice-cold muscle twirling round the sensitive peak and slurping it into his mouth, only to pull away with a pop. “I thought we were past that, angel.”

You groan as his cock recedes from your folds, leaving you empty and eager for more. Large, hot hands guide your hips to roll over, steering you to your face the wall of the igloo on your hands and knees. With just a cavalier flick of the wrist, a shiny coating of fresh ice blankets the interior wall, creating a cloudy reflection that brings more heat to your cheeks. You can see Shouto behind you; firm, abundant muscles lining his wide frame and his hair tousled back atop his crown, those bicolored eyes regarding you with unwavering desire. Your forehead falls to brush against the plastic of the tarp as he traces the head of his cock along your slit, your hips jerking when he nudges your clit.

Your eyelids flutter open weakly when warm kisses dance across your shoulders, a shaky moan leaving from your lips as Shouto presses into your slippery cunt once more. He sighs beside your ear, and you watch as he closes his eyes, heated lips meandering up your jaw to take the tip of your ear between his teeth. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispers, sucking cold air along your skin when your pussy grips him tight in an automatic response. He nibbles at your cartilage, thrusting halfway inside as his hand collects your chin. Turning your face, he pushes his lips against yours, silencing your moan when his hips press flush against yours. The new position has your eyes rolling back, his cock massaging that sacred spot nestled deep within your core. His tongue starts to wrestle with yours in your mouth, his palm leaving your face to press flush against your pelvis, perfectly lining up two fingertips to greet your clit.

Your jaw falls open at the added stimulation, pussy winding tight around his length and pulling him deeper inside. That familiar coil is present again in your stomach, your pulse racing and perspiration gathering down your back and above your brow. Shouto’s tongue only drives further into your mouth, toying with yours. His hips begin to smack against your ass, balls slapping the fingertips that rub steady patterns on your pearl of nerves. You can feel your orgasm building, pressure heightening at a surprising speed, and you begin to whimper onto his lips, fingers curling into the tarp underneath your hands.

Shouto takes his tongue from your mouth, a silver string of saliva connecting your mouths. “Look up, beautiful,” he instructs, nodding to the wall in front of you.

Your elbows almost give out at the scene before you, and Shouto grabs your shoulder to pull you upright, thighs spread wide to showcase where his body connects with yours. Your eyes can’t decide whether to stay on his slick cock pumping in and out of your tight hole, fingers working diligently on your clit, or to linger on his face, his scorching eyes half-lidded and teeth clamped gently on your shoulder. He kisses your neck sloppily, free hand curling around you to cup your breast and pinch your nipple with cold fingers. Your back arches, ass pressing against his hips as he starts to pound into you, your cunt quivering and trying desperately to keep up with his insatiable pace.

“See how pretty you are, Y/N?” Shouto goads in between kissing and nipping the soft skin on the side of your neck. You take a glance at yourself, that embarrassed feeling leaking through your pores again when you see how fucked-out your expression is; pupils blown in lust and mouth hanging open, tongue resting on your lower lip. “Who’s making you make that pretty face?”

You can barely find your voice, pussy pulling snug around his thick length as you hurtle toward your climax. Throwing your arm backwards around his neck, your hips try to meet his rapid tempo, and your face turns to nuzzle against the smooth expanse of his cheek. “Y-You, Shouto,” you cry, his fingers on your breast pinching tighter and beginning to roll. The honorific dangles on the tip of your tongue, but you bite your lip in order to seal it away. “I’m so— so close,” you warn, but he does not slow. His hips keep their frenzied pace, and the fingers on your clit suddenly surge with a searing heat, leaking into your pussy and pushing you over the edge.

Shouto bites out a swear, his corded arm holding you upright against his torso as your slouch onto him. Your thighs tremble as you fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the other hand flying to hold onto the wrist glued to your abdomen. Euphoria rushes through your body and your pussy clutches onto his cock like a vise, a string of incoherent babbles and moans jumbled together slithering over the skin on his throat. You want to beg him to stop, to give you a second to catch your breath, but your voice is silent as he continues his ministrations on your overstimulated clit, hips never stalling. He carefully pushes your shoulder, allowing you to catch yourself on your shaking hands, parallel to the tent. With your cheek pressed against the plastic, both his hands fly to your waist, fingers turning white as he rams into you with renewed vigor.

Unaware that he’d been holding back from full force, you scream out in absolute ecstasy at his new tempo. His cock draws along your swollen walls, balls smacking your puffy clit, fast and rough. Blearily you look at the reflection in front of you, already feeling another orgasm approaching at an alarming rate just from the sight before you; Shouto’s eyes in thin slivers underneath a furrowed brow, focused on the bounce of your ass in front of him, jaw hanging open unabashedly and hot puffs of steam billowing out. A cord stands out along his neck as he strains to deliver you such pleasure, muscles taught and tense along his torso. Both of you are breathless and about to cum, perspiration rolling along your skins from the steam and heat trapped inside the igloo.

His eyes meet yours in the reflection and you give in, cunt spasming around him, your fingers grappling onto the tent in bliss, and his name falling from your ajar lips. Through your haze of euphoria you hear him swear, a loud groan bouncing off the icy walls of the structure before he pulls out, hot ropes landing along your spine, all the way up to the curve of your shoulder. Your pussy flutters as you ride out your orgasm, vacant and craving to be filled by him again. Shouto’s hands are gentle on your hips, one turning to trail his knuckles along your skin.

Shouto leans forward and gathers you against his chest, despite your protests about the sticky fluid dripping down your back. You can feel his hot cock against your spine, still slick and hard. He carefully pulls your hair to the side, tilting your head to place his lips on yours. You melt into his embrace, feeling peaceful and satisfied. His lips curl into a soft smile to mirror yours, and you deepen the kiss for a moment before pulling away.

“Warm enough?” Shouto asks after clearing his throat, that charming smile still turning up the corners of his mouth.

You chuckle at his question before you pause, your brain beginning to come back to reality. “Definitely, but… getting cold now, actually,” you realize aloud, head swiveling around as you take in the icy walls of the igloo still standing tall, sheltering your naked bodies from the storm.

Shouto lets out a quiet noise of agreement, one hand leaving your body in favor of searching through his disheveled backpack. He swiftly returns his hand to your body, a handful of unused napkins from your earlier meal in his palm. He also cups his other hand into the snow on the ground, melting it and heating it before he lets it glide down your skin, following the rivulets with the napkin. “If we were in any other situation, I hope you know I’d take much better care of you right now,” he comments, a hint of humor in his deep voice.

You smile at his statement, letting your hair fall in your face as you lean forward in order to aid him. “That’s alright, I think you’ve taken care of me enough,” you reply cheekily, moving toward the sleeping bag once he taps your ass gently, signalling he’s finished.

Shouto raises a thin brow, eyes trailing over your naked breasts as you slip your bottom into the sleeping bag. His hand runs over his sculpted chest, repeating the same procedure he’s just completed on his own skin. “What, now that I made you cum three times, you’re not shy anymore?”

Your cheeks flush at his remark, and you slither into the safety of the sleeping bag, shielded from his perceptive gaze. Your refuge does not last long, for Shouto shuffles inside the bag too, his warm skin pressing against yours. After he zips the compartment closed, he gathers you in his arms, shifting you so your head lays on top of his chest. You can hear the quick thump of his heart underneath your ear, blood rushing through his veins and sounding like a sweet, soothing melody. When he speaks, it rumbles in your ears, shivers swirling underneath your skin.

“You know, you’re pretty cute whether you’re shy or not,” he confesses. You make a squeak at his compliment, your cheeks feeling hotter than ever. Shouto only laughs, the addicting noise ringing off the walls of your haven. “Well, especially cute when you’re shy.”

Shouto wonders how you can be so timid after he’s fucked you senseless, but he doesn’t push his luck. He only grins as you smoosh your face onto his pec, a hand covering your inflamed cheek. You’re more than grateful when he changes the direction of the conversation.

“You should sleep, Y/N,” he suggests, fingers tracing along your hip. “You’ll need to be well-rested for the return down the mountain tomorrow. Most likely my agency already has reinforcements on the way here— it’s protocol— so we won’t have to pursue the villains any longer. Though I doubt they made it through the blizzard.”

You nod, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion. You hadn’t realized you were so drained, but after hiking up a mountain and trekking through a snowstorm, you suppose it’s only rational your body is so spent. Not to mention you’d just had the best fuck of your life, with probably the most handsome, dapper man you know.

Before you can submit to the alluring tendrils of slumber, Shouto smooths his warm palms along your spine, his voice soft and sweet like honey. “Are you sure you’re warm enough? Just tell me and I’ll heat you up, for real this time,” he murmurs, a quick wave of heat emanating from his palm as if to prove his offer holds legitimacy.

“No,” you sigh, never having felt this warm, and safe in your life, “This is perfect.”

Shouto holds you as you succumb to slumber, and he hopes you don’t notice how his heartbeat quickens, a flustered pink dusting his pale cheeks.

-—-—-—-—-—-

The trek down the mountain the next morning is light-hearted and much easier than the journey up. The sun high in the sky, the perfectly smooth snowbanks reflect the bright light of day, nearly blinding if you gaze at them too long. Shouto trudges through the knee-deep snow ahead of you, creating footholds for you to step into with more ease.

Without the heavy storm from the former night, it’s easier to see where the pair of you are going, and you make your way down to the sloping foothills of the mountain in good time. The expedition feels less cumbersome without the icy storm biting into your body, but also because Shouto talks with you the entire time. He touches your waist, holds your hand for a moment too long when he offers you his support, and grins at you without restraint. Your heart races at every interaction, giddiness trickling through your veins.

When the pair of you finally reach the base of the mountain, you’re greeted by the rest of your team. They’ve set up a makeshift camp a short distance from the mouth of the trail, just through a small spattering of trees.

Relief surges through you at the sight of your coworkers, your eyes widening and your foot automatically taking a step toward the group. But Shouto grabs your wrist, spinning you around and pulling your body close to his. The weather isn’t nearly as freezing at the bottom of the mountain, and the heat that rushes into your cheeks at the action is much more noticeable. His arm wraps around your waist, leading you to the side of the path slightly and blocking your figures with the trees.

“Y/N,” Shouto starts, eyes cast toward the side and a boyish blush on his cheeks. The sight of him so hesitant makes your stomach drop; you’re not accustomed to seeing the pro hero anything but confident and collected. Yet his voice is still just as deep and calm as he speaks, despite his flustered disposition. “Before we rejoin the team, I wanted to ask you something.”

You place your hand on his chest, fighting your bashful demeanor to comfort the man before you. “Shouto? What is it?” Head tilted to the side, your fingers spread and retract over his coat, smoothing over the stiff material there.

Hearing you call him by just his name makes him smile warmly, his stare flickering to your hand on his chest. “I know this is kind of backwards, but… I wanted to know if you’d like to have dinner with me,” he chokes out, shocked that the words come out sounding effortless and suave. “I want the chance to show you that last night was more than just sex to me.”

The rock-like feeling in your stomach dissipates, your frown melting into a timid smile. He wants to have dinner with you— a date! Last night meant something more to him; he wants to spend more time with you. Your heart swells in your chest and you nod eagerly. “Yes!” You nearly shout before you attempt to reign in your eagerness, “I mean— yes, I would— I would really like that, Shouto.”

The grin that splits across his face is more blinding than the snowbanks. It makes butterflies swarm your tummy and you can’t help but smile in return. He chuckles and the arm around your waist tightens, your body pressing against his. His lips graze your forehead and your breath catches in your lungs, a soft laugh falling from your lips.

Shouto holds you for a moment before he lets you go, dusting off his gloved hands on his pants. The faint pink drains from his cheeks, his usual indifferent expression sliding back onto his face. “Alright, let’s join the team, then,” he gestures for you to move back onto the path, and you take a step forward in front of him. A strangled noise of surprise catches in his throat when you press your lips to his in a quick, gentle kiss.

You pull away and examine his bright red cheeks, two-toned eyes wide and lips parted slightly, clearly unexpecting your sudden affection. You laugh at him, taking his wrist and tugging his stiff body back into the camp’s line of vision. Shouto seems to recover rather quickly, pinching your ass as you begin walking toward the camp. You’re about to swat at him, but your coworker notices the two of you approaching, and begins to run toward the pair of you. You shoot him a playful glare and he only smirks.

The team of fellow heroes pulls the two of you apart, fussing and showering you with a million questions— but you don’t really pay attention to any of them. Your eyes meet a blue and gray gaze through the commotion, and even without a raging storm to freeze your bones, your heart fills with warmth once again.

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

o my frickin god you guys i cannot believe this fic turned into such an absolute monster. 11k words— i am so mf extra. i hope it was worth it though, please lemme know if you wanna be trapped in an igloo with shou too LOL 🤪🥶🥵

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𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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defiblover27 · 3 years

Text

Old Friends

Sorry that I have been gone for so long. Finally back to writing again. If you ever have any ideas for a story my DMs are always open. Enjoy!

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Bek is a 37 year old female with blonde hair that falls to her shoulders. She is slightly on the heavier side with and stands at just five foot three. Bek and one of her closest friends Ryan have decided to meet up at her house after they have both been busy with their professional careers and have not had the time to sit down and catch up in quite a while. Bek puts on her jeans and a shirt and then finally pulls a hoodie on over top while she waits around for Ryan to arrive before he has to go into work later in the morning. After Ryan arrives the two sit in the living room and start chatting about their current lives and reminisce the good old days of growing up together. The chatter quickly develops and they sit and laugh together as they recall some embarrassing stories that they experienced together. "I can't believe that we really did that.... Would you care for a cup of coffee before you have to leave?" Bek asks. "That would be great" Ryan responds. Bek gets up from the couch and heads into the kitchen just a few feet away. After picking up the coffee pot she turns to the walk to the sink to get some water when she suddenly feels very light headed and her tongue starts to tingle. Before she can do anything her vision goes dark. There is an audible thud and the shatter of the glass coffee pot is heard in the living room as Ryan jumps up from his seat. "You okay in there Bek?" as he turns the corner he sees the glass shards across the floor and Bek lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. "Oh my god Bek" he quickly rushes over and kneels down beside her. He shakes her shoulders to get a response and after a few shakes Bek lets out a sigh as she begins to regain consciousness. "What... what happened?" Bek asks shakily as she attempts to sit up. "You must have passed out has this happened before recently?" Ryan asks as he helps her up into a seated position. "No nothing at all, I've felt a little under the weather since this morning but besides that nothing." Bek responds as she slowly picks herself off the floor into a standing position. "I'm calling an ambulance" Ryan states as he heads back into the living room to get his phone. "No I'm fine really" Bek pleads but Ryan is already gone and dialing 911. Bek hobbles over to a bench in the kitchen by the table as she leans up against it. She can hear Ryan in the other room talking to the emergency dispatcher. She still feels lightheaded and a little woozy but brushes it off without another thought. Ryan reenters the room and stays by Bek and explains that the ambulance is on the way. After a few minutes the EMT's arrive at Bek's house and Ryan lets them in and leads them to where Bek is leaning up against the bench in the kitchen. They set down their bags and ask a few initial questions. After checking her vitals they explain to Ryan that she should be okay but they want to transport her to the hospital just in case. Bek tells Ryan to go to work and that she will call him later. The paramedics get his contact information before he leaves and he tells her to make sure to call him later. Ryan leaves the house and heads to work even though he is still worried about Bek. Jayden, one of the paramedics, asks his coworker Alex to go to the ambulance and grab the gurney since she is having trouble walking. Alex leaves the room while Jayden stays behind with Bek. "My... my chest... it..." Bek collapses to the ground for a second time. Jayden catches her as she collapses and lays her gently on the floor. He feels for a pulse and breathing. Finding none he quickly places his gloved hands between her breasts and begins CPR. He felt as each compression caused her chest to cave in and return to its position each time. After giving thirty aggressive compressions he tilted her head back, sealed his lips over her mouth, pinched her nose, and delivered a breath. He gave two full breaths into her still lungs causing her chest to rise and fall with each one. He did another round of thirty compressions as he felt a few ribs pop out of place due to

the force of the compressions. Again he gave two breaths as Alex returns with the gurney to see their patient unconscious on the floor. "What happened?" Alex asked quickly as he grabbed the heart monitor and AED from the gurney. "She went into full cardiac arrest, I've done two rounds of CPR and still no response. Alex grabbed some shears from his pocket and cut away Bek's hoodie, shirt, and bra causing her breasts to fall to the side. Jayden placed his hands between between her exposed chest and continued CPR. "We need to attempt to stabilize her before transport." Jayden announced. Alex grabbed an orange ambu bag from the O2 bag and sealed it over Bek's face. After every thirty compressions Alex squeezed the ambu bag twice to inflate her lungs. While Jayden was performing CPR Alex also attached the electrodes and AED pads to Bek's bare chest. The monitor whined to life as the line bounced up and down in v-fib. The AED charged to 200 joules as the paramedics backed away. The shock button was pushed and Bek jerked on her kitchen floor as the electricity coursed through her dying body. With no response Alex took over CPR as the AED charged to 300 in preparation of a second shock. Alex used the full weight of his body to compress Bek's chest as he felt a few of her ribs break under him. The AED announced that it was charged as they backed away and pressed the shock button. Again Bek jerked on the floor before relaxing again. "Still no response, lets give one more shock and then transport regardless." Jayden announced. Alex was already giving Bek CPR and simply shook his head in agreement. The AED was charged the 360 as CPR continued on Bek's dying body. They backed away once more as the AED was charged and shocked her again. This time the increased voltage caused Bek's chest to rise slightly off the kitchen floor before crashing back down causing her breasts to shake. "Asystole, lets roll out hopefully the ER can do something else to help her" They rolled her over before placing her on a backboard and loading Bek and all of their equipment into the ambulance and sped away. Alex hopped into the drivers seat and flipped on the lights and sirens as he attempted to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Meanwhile Jayden was in the back of the ambulance compressing Bek's chest which now had a grayish look to it as her body began to shut down. The first few minutes of the ride were uneventful as Bek remained in asystole while her chest was being pounded away on. After pushing another round of cardiac drugs into the IV Jayden was able to force Bek's heart into v-fib as the AED was charged to 360 again. The shock caused Bek to jerk violently on the gurney before going still again. There was no change in rhythm so the AED was charged again as Jayden quickly tilted her head back and slid a metal blade into her mouth and down her throat slightly. He then passed a 8.0 ET tube down her airway and secured it with a blue holder. Attaching the ambu bag he gave a couple ventilations as he placed his stethoscope onto her cold and clammy chest to ensure it was placed properly. He was able to get it right on the first time so he dropped the bag so it laid against her face and pressed the shock button again. Bek's feet jumped off the gurney slightly and clenched up showing off the wrinkles of her small feet. Jayden began to lose hope of saving Bek as the monitor went flat once again as she went into asystole once again. Jayden pounded away at her chest as a purple bruise began to form in-between her breasts from all of the aggressive CPR. Her complexion started to fade and her lips turned to a bluish purple as her body was shutting down. She was now cool to the touch other than the center of her chest where Jayden's warm gloved hands have been so often. Each compression forced her breasts to shake violently as her chest was caved in rhythmically. He pushed another round of drugs into her dying body and gave to quick squeezes of the bag hanging out of her mouth before continuing CPR. He lost track

of how many cycles he has done so far or how long she had been down. All he knew is that he wouldn't stop until he got her heart beating again.

As they arrived at the ER Bek was still under intense CPR as her chest caved in rhythmically. They rolled her out of the ambulance as Jayden straddled the gurney. His hips placed directly on hers as his body hovered over hers as he continued aggressive compressions. Alex picked up the ambu bag laying on the gurney and gave a few squeezes every few seconds in attempt to give her much needed air. They took her directly into the trauma room as Alex gave the report. Jayden hopped off of the gurney and helped transfer Bek to the bed. They rolled her to her side and slipped the backboard out replacing it with a CPR board to get her chest in the correct position. Her nude body now laid dying on the bed as a nurse took over CPR. Jayden backed away slightly trying to catch his breath from all of the CPR that he had just performed. They placed another IV port and gave Bek her next dose of epi and continued CPR. The monitors beeped in tune with each compression that she received as her body shook around from the force. The attending doctor took out his pen light and checked her pupils. They were sluggish but reactive meaning that she still had a chance at coming back. They had no time to waste before it would be too late though. A day that went from hanging out with an old friend turned into a day where a team of medical professionals did everything they could to bring her back to life. The monitors began to bounce erratically as Bek converted into Vfib once again. The paddles were taken off of the crash cart, a large amount of gel was placed on one of the paddles as they were rubbed together, placed on her bare chest, and discharged. The shock caused Bek to flop on the bed and after the shock there was no change. CPR was resumed as the paddles were charged again to 360. In a moments notice the cold metal paddles were back on her skin as she was shocked again. This time her arms flailed to the sides and her feet scrunched up and relaxed again. Bek still did not convert so another nurse centered their hands between her large breasts as the paddles charged again.

Jayden was near the nurses station as soon as they left the room and called Ryan. "Hello is this Ryan?" Jayden asked. "Bek is not doing very well and I think that its important for you to get to the hospital as soon as possible. You are the closest thing to family that she has." He hung up the phone and looked into the trauma room as he watched the resuscitation continue. A few minutes later Ryan busted into the ER and ran toward Jayden. Jayden had to catch Ryan in his arms before he could burst into the trauma room. "What the hell is going on? She seemed okay when I left. I should have stayed with her." Ryan frantically pleaded. "She went into cardiac arrest shortly after you left. We have been doing everything that we can for her. She is in good hands." Jayden responded. Ryan could barely see into the trauma room but was able to see as everyone backed away and then as her body shook around on the bed. He fell to the floor as Jayden caught him and tried to console him.

"Asystole doctor" the nurse in charge of ventilations announced. "Push another round of epi and continue CPR please." he replied. The team worked in silence as they continued resuscitating Bek but they all knew that she was inching closer and closer to death. After three minutes at her 40 minute mark of her code the doctor asked "is there any family here?". A nurse informed him of the situation and he asked that Ryan be brought into the room. Ryan could barely hold his own weight as Jayden guided him into the room. "I'm the attending here and have been in charge of Bek's case. She was brought into the ER 20 minutes ago in full cardiac arrest. Her heart hasn't been beating for over 40 minutes. We have given her all of the drugs that we can and have done everything in our power. I am going to check for any signs of life again. Come on over and hold her hand." The two of them approached Bek as Ryan placed her hand in his. He could feel how could it was. "Stop CPR and check for pulses." The team backed away as they checked her carotid, and femoral pulses. The attending checked her pupils for the last time and found that they were fixed and dilated. "Time of Death 10:46am. I'm very sorry." The doctor announced. He left Ryan and a few nurses in the room as they started post mortem care. The disconnected the ambu bag, leads, wiped the gel off her chest, hung a toe tag on her right foot, and finally draped a white sheet over her nude body. Jayden stayed in the room with Ryan until she was taken down to the hospital morgue. Her autopsy found that she had suffered a massive heart attack.

#cpr #resus #resuscitation #defib #defibrillator

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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Kizuna itself vs. the two versions of the novel

Written on request from a friend who wanted to remain anonymous. This is more of an editorial than a meta, and while I usually have a policy of “this is an analysis blog, not a review blog” it goes into more of my personal impressions and opinions than usual, but it’s something I write hoping to be helpful.

There are basically three “official” full versions of Kizuna: one being, of course, the movie itself, one being the Dash X Bunko version of the novel, and one being the Shueisha Mirai Bunko version of it. While it’s certainly not to say that any of the three is an “incomplete” version of the narrative, if you really want as full of a picture of the story as possible, somehow, each of all three versions of the story happens to have really important information that the other two do not. If I had to pick only one of these three versions to recommend to people, I would of course pick the movie itself; it’s obviously the base story everything else is based off of and was the one the production centered around as a priority, but the novelizations have a surprising amount of info that provide a lot of insight into the movie’s story and themes.

I get the impression that the creation of Kizuna involved making a lot more story and background details than could fit in a 95-minute movie, so these novelizations, which were based directly off the original movie script, ended up being an outlet for a lot of these details (and as much as I could be harsh on the movie itself for being a bit “reliant” on extra material, I have to admit that Adventure and 02 were both like this too -- a lot of our current understanding of the series comes from the Adventure novels and drama CDs -- so frankly I’m thankful we at least got this with a 95-minute movie instead of a yearlong series). On the flip side, while I'm not going to say that the novels are completely and utterly inaccurate representations of the movie, in a perhaps too-close approximation of Adventure and 02's writing style, this is a movie where even the nuances in a single line or split-second moment carry heavy implications, which become much blurrier or harder to identify when they’re presented differently (or not even presented at all) in the novel’s context, especially when they emphasize very different things from what the movie itself was emphasizing.

The short version of this is that I believe the Dash X version contains the greater amount of “plot and story” information but significantly misses out on the emotional themes and presentation, whereas the Shueisha Mirai version abridges and cuts chunks of content but is much better at conveying the intended message. More on this below the cut. (Note that the following post spoils Kizuna’s plot events.)

The movie itself

Since the following parts are more “in comparison to the movie”, I’m not going to go too much into this in this section, but one thing I will say is that the official English subtitle translation for the movie is really not great. Even if you take out nitpickiness about the fact it misses several significant nuances (the difference between “unchangeable fate” and “changeable destiny”, or the fact that Gennai refers to partnership dissolution as a “case” and not like it’s something that happens overall) at really plot-important moments, some lines (thankfully, usually not plot-important ones) are just straight-up incorrect. And worse, there’s evidence the official English dub was based on that translation! (I’m not faulting the people in charge of the dub for this, but whoever handed them that translation to work with.)

The dialogue in the Dash X Bunko version is transcribed effectively word-for-word from the dialogue in the movie (or perhaps vice versa, given that the novel is based on the original script), so I highly recommend checking that version as a reference for dialogue or if you want to do any intimate analysis on it. I don't want to go as far as to suggest not supporting the official version of the movie because of this, but at least please be aware that the translation used there is not entirely reliable.

Dash X Bunko

If you talk about “the Kizuna novel”, this is the one that people usually tend to be referring to, for two reasons. Firstly, it was translated shortly after the movie’s release, and due to the unfortunate circumstances of Kizuna being delayed in accessibility outside Japan for several months, this basically served as the only comprehensive source of info about the movie outside Japan for a very long time. Secondly, in Japan, this one was marketed as “the one for adults” in contrast to the Shueisha Mirai one being “for kids”, which meant that a lot of people assumed that the latter one was just an incredibly stripped down version that was otherwise disposable or replaceable. (This is very, very much not the case, and is extremely ironic when it comes to a movie that partially centers around the dangers of looking down too much on things associated with childhood.)

When it comes to “plot and story info”, this is the one that probably serves as the best reference (especially for fanfic writers or those who need a refresher on certain plot events or to look up something quickly), and probably has the most “comprehensive” listing of plot events surrounding the movie. The dialogue in it is a word-for-word recreation of the movie’s script, and actually includes more scenes than the movie itself does, including two that I suspect to be deleted scenes (a detailing of the specifics behind the initial plan to pursue Eosmon, and a conversation between Koushirou and Tentomon) and adaptations of the first and second memorial shorts within their context in the movie. It also contains some interesting background details and extra context for some things in the movie that you might think would normally be animation flair or something, but take a very interesting implication of story importance if they’re going out of their way to write this in the script. (There’s a scene where Agumon and Gabumon appear in front of their partners when they’d been behind them a minute before, and it’s easy to think this might be an animation error, but not only does the surrounding context make this unlikely, the novel itself actually directly states that their positions had changed.) Given that, I think it was very fortunate that this novel was available to us for those outside Japan waiting for the actual movie to come out, because this level of detail was very important to have on hand rather than fragmented spoilers on social media.

However, the part where I think the novel is significantly deficient in compared to the actual movie (and also to the other version of the novel) is that it describes the plot events in too blunt of a manner and doesn’t bring out its themes very well. (It’s kind of like having a long and very detailed Wikipedia article plot summary; it definitely got all the hard facts down, but the emotion is gone, which is still a pretty significant issue when media’s all about the feelings and message in the end.) While “considering the movie to be more cynical than it’s probably meant to be” happens regardless of which version someone’s working from, I’ve talked to perhaps an unnervingly high number of people who started with the novel and were absolutely convinced that the movie’s message was about adulthood sucking and needing to just accept it, until they saw how the actual movie pulled it off and the surrounding atmosphere and realized it definitely was not. (I think one really big factor here is that a lot of the visual imagery makes it extremely, extremely hard to miss that Menoa’s mentality is completely screwed up and her way of seeing things was dubious to begin with; prose descriptions really just don’t capture the way they slam this in your face with visual and musical cues during the climax of the movie.)

You can figure this out from the novel itself, but you have to really be looking closely at the way they word things, and on top of that it’s hard to figure out which parts you should be focusing on and which parts aren’t actually that important -- in other words, the “choice of priorities” gets a bit lost in there. Even the little things lose a lot of value; it’s theoretically possible to use the novel to put together that Daisuke is wearing his sunglasses indoors during his first scene, but you have to put together the context clues from completely different paragraphs to figure this out, none of which compares to the actual hilarity of visually seeing him wearing the thing in a very obviously dimly lit restaurant because he’s our beloved idiot. (For more details, please see my post with more elaboration on this and more examples of this kind of thing.)

I wouldn’t say that the movie itself isn’t guilty of (perhaps accidentally) having some degree of mixed messaging, but I would say this problem is rather exacerbated by the novel’s way of presenting it due to its dedication to dropping every single plot detail and event without much in the way of choosing what to contextualize and what to put emphasis on (as it turns out, treating practically everything in the movie as if it has equal weight might not be a great idea). So, again, for that reason I think the novel serves as a good reference in terms of remembering what happened in it and knowing the movie’s contents, but I also feel that it’s really not the greatest deliverer of the movie’s message or themes at all.

Shueisha Mirai Bunko

The second version of the novel was not translated until several months after the movie first released, and shortly before the Blu-ray and streaming versions of the movie itself came out anyway, so my impression is that on this end a lot of people don’t even know it was a thing. On top of that, even those who know about it often dismiss it as the “kid version” -- and to be fair, it did baffle quite a few people as to why this version even exists (Kizuna is technically not unacceptable for kid viewing and its plot is still understandable regardless of age, but since the movie is so heavily about the millennial existential crisis, it’s not something kids would really relate to). So a lot of people tended to just skip over it...which is really a shame, because it contains some interesting things that actually aren’t in the other two versions at all. For instance, did you know that, as of this writing, this is the only thing that plainly states the specific explanation for why Yamato decided to become an astronaut, for the first time in 20 real-life years?

While there are still some things that weren’t in the movie proper (mainly the Eosmon initial plan and the adaptation of the second memorial short), for the most part, the actual events are somewhat abridged compared to the movie and the Dash X version, and other than a few stray lines, there’s not a lot of extra information that would be as helpful for referencing the events of the plot. The version of the novel here is rather broadly interpretive of the scenes in the movie, so several things are condensed or taken out (and, amusingly, because it’s assuming that the kids reading this don’t actually know the original Adventure or 02, it has to describe what each character is like in a quick one-liner).

However, interestingly enough, it’s because it’s so heavily interpretive that it illuminates a lot of things that weren’t really easy to glean out of the Dash X version. For instance:

Some scenes are described with “other perspectives” that give you info on someone else’s point of view. (For instance, we see more of Yamato’s perspective and thoughts when he has his first phone call with Daisuke, or a bit more detail in the process of how Eosmon kidnappings work.)

We get a lot more information on what’s going through everyone’s heads during each scene, and what emotions they’re feeling at a given time. (This is something that you could at least get to some degree in the movie itself from facial expressions and framing, but would often be a lot blurrier in the Dash X version; here, it’s spelled out in words.)

When things are abridged, you get a clearer idea of what the intended point and theme of the scene was because it’s stripped down to include only that part. In one really interesting case, the scene with Agumon finding Taichi’s AVs has a “censored” equivalent where Taichi’s pushed to a corner because he can’t find anything non-alcoholic in his fridge -- so when you look at the two versions of the scene and what they have in common, you can figure out that the point isn’t that it was a lewd joke for the sake of it, but rather that Taichi’s forcing himself into boxes of “adulthood” that are actually meaningless and impractical.

Some of the descriptions of the characters, scenes, and background information make it a lot more obvious as to their purpose in the narrative (it outright confirms that Miyako being in Spain means that her personality is getting overly enabled there).

The scene where the circumstances behind Morphomon’s disappearance are revealed makes it significantly less subtle what the point is. In the actual movie, a lot of this involved visual framing with Menoa seeming to become more and more distant, but in this version of the novel they basically whack you over the head with the final confirmation that Menoa is guilty of neglecting her own partner, which contradicts her own assertions that “they were always together” (maybe not emotionally, it seems!) and helps clarify the commonality between her, Taichi, Yamato, and Sora in what exactly led to their partners disappearing.

Bonus: this version of the novel really wants you to know that the ending of the movie is about Taichi and Yamato fully having the determination to turn things around and lead up to the 02 epilogue. (The movie’s version of this involves the extended version of Taichi’s thesis and the credits photo with Yamato obviously next to a rocket, while this novel’s version involves more detailed fleshing out of how Taichi and Yamato decided to use their experiences to move onto their eventual career paths and what kind of hope they still have at the end. The Dash X version...didn’t really have a very strong equivalent here.)

In other words, while this version of the novel isn’t the greatest reference for plot or worldbuilding, it does a much more effective job being straightforward about the intended themes and message of the movie, and even if the scenes in it are much more loosely adapted, it’s much better at adapting the emotional nuances of the things that would normally be conveyed via visuals, expressions, and voice acting. (Although I would still say that the movie itself is the best reference for that kind of thing, of course.) If you just want lore or plot ideas, I don’t think it’ll help you very much, but since this series is so much about characters that had their ways of thinking fleshed out in such incredible detail, and about strong theme messaging, this is all still very valuable information in its own way.

#digimon #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #shihameta

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

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Full Court Press (NBA!Kylo Ren x Reader) - Part 1/2

A collaborative fic by @weareallstoriesintheend & @saynotoshityouhate

Words: 1329

Summary: Your boss is making you take clients to a professional basketball game - not your ideal use of a Friday night. That is, until something caught your eye.

AU Inspo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdpBEY21/

Warnings: Just some spicy thoughts! The spice comes in part two!

(Link to Part 2 Coming Soon!)

“But…I know absolutely nothing about basketball. Can’t you find someone else to go?” You looked at your boss, his arm extended with four tickets to that night’s Tie Fighter game.

He shook his head, pushing the tickets into your hand. You were going, and were taking along three high profile clients. It wasn’t how you’d hoped to spend a Friday night, but hey, the snacks courtside were much better than general admission.

The company car dropped you and your clients at the front of the arena. You wore your favorite black and red blouse and dark jeans, nothing too showy, but still fun and professional for a work outing - and fitting, since it matched the Tie Fighter’s uniforms! The four of you took your seats courtside. You could reach out and touch the players you were so close. You tucked yourself neatly into your seat along with your clients, quickly attended to by a waiter who asked for your drink order. You were used to fancy amenities in your job, but this was just over the top!

It was hard to keep track of what was happening out on the court. Big men, running back and forth...how did people find this interesting again? The only thing holding your attention, as much as you hate to say it (as a strong, independent, boss ass bitch) was the tall, center forward for the Tie Fighters.

He had long, dark hair that was pulled into a ponytail apart from a few wispy pieces that fell loose around his face. His skin was littered with moles and freckles, and his left arm was a full sleeve of tattoos. You tucked your hair behind your ears as your skin began to warm, the dirty thoughts filling your mind betraying your professional exterior.

You were snapped out of your daydream by the shrill shouts of the Tie Fighter’s coach. “Ren! Hustle! Get down the court!” The pale, red-headed coach was turning purple with the exertion of his shouts towards the player you had your eye on.

That must be Kylo Ren, the infamous star of the team, known for his off the court antics that always had him in the news. If it wasn’t girls in clubs, it was violent outbursts towards reporters or his coaches. Most recently, he had assaulted the red-headed coach in the locker room after he questioned Ren’s work ethic. The team couldn’t lose him, so they hit him with a hefty fine instead, which to Kylo was just pocket change. He was terrifying...in the best way.

“Y/N, has that shipping issue resolved yet? Last time we talked, you had begun making some progress on those negotiations.”

As you turned to answer the client’s question, you suddenly found yourself tackled by one of the players, your body trapped under his, the folding chair disintegrating in the process. Opening your eyes, you saw a set of hazel eyes staring back at you, partially hidden behind thick black hair draped across his sweaty forehead.

“You okay?” It was him, Kylo Ren, looking deep into your eyes, searching for any inkling of injury.

“I’d be better if you got off of me,” you grunted, his weight holding you in an uncomfortable position.

He chuckled. “I don’t know about that, Princess, but I’ll take your word for it.” Kylo stood, extending his hand to you to help you up.

You took his hand as he pulled you upright. After adjusting your blouse and wiping spilled beer off of your pants, you looked back at Kylo.

“I’m fine, promise.” You were shocked that he hadn’t run back to the rest of his team by now and was just loitering by your seats. You raised an eyebrow at him, which prompted a sly smirk by the star player.

“Feisty. I like that.” He turned around and headed back on the court. You took your seat, quickly finding a fresh drink and a dry towel in your hand from one of the arena staff.

At halftime, one of the athletic trainers found you at your seat, handing you a folded up note. You took the note, your forehead knit in confusion. Peeling apart the note, you saw two lines of scrawled script:

Sorry I knocked you over. Come to the locker room after the game - I’ll make it up to you. -KRen

The rest of the game, you were overrun by nervous butterflies. You tried to avoid eye contact and focus your attention on your clients, but you kept getting drawn back to the actions on the court. You’d watch him dribble, seeing the sheer size of his hands palm the ball with ease. You wondered what else those hands could do. You saw the way every muscle in his body worked in unison, flexing and stretching, glistening in sweat. At one point, as he prepared to shoot free throws, he looked in your direction, that signature smirk spread across his face. He winked and licked his lips lewdly before continuing his pre-shot routine. You adjusted in your seat, aroused by the man’s audacity and public display.

With a few moments left in the fourth quarter, it was clear the Tie Fighters wouldn’t be winning this game. It was an ugly display by the home team, as well as their star player. As the final buzzer rang, you made eye contact with the same athletic trainer who had visited you earlier. He nodded his head towards the locker rooms, standing up and walking in that direction. You turned to your clients.

“I just got a text from my sister...family emergency. Are you all okay with making it back to the hotel? Have some drinks at the bar - charge it to my account. I’m so sorry to end the night early.” They made some sort of remark about hitting the town, you weren’t really listening. You were gathering your things and heading the way of the locker room, despite every muscle in your body telling you this was a terrible idea.

You followed the trainer down a long dark hallway, the walls covered in motivational posters and team photographs. Kylo was heavily featured, your eyes examining his larger than life features, the butterflies in your lower belly beginning to swarm. You stopped for a moment, looking down the seemingly endless tunnel.

You took a deep breath, shaking the nerves from your shoulders and wiggling your fingers. He probably just wants to apologize and make sure you’re alright. Maybe sign an autograph. Totally harmless. You worked with powerful men all of the time, it took a lot to intimidate you. You began to walk again towards your escort who was standing outside an unmarked door. You looked confused, expecting a more dramatic and flashy entrance.

“This is the back entrance. The rest of the team meets for a bit without Mr. Ren, giving him a chance to cool down in private. You’ve got about 30minutes. If you’re not gone by then, I’ll have to come in and bring you out myself.” Again, you looked confused, tilting your head at him. Rolling his eyes at you, he opened the door and pushed you inside.

The locker room was round, with wooden cubbies around the perimeter, each with a player’s name and number across the top. The carpet was black and red, a giant tie fighter in the center. Sitting in the cubby directly ahead of you, head in his hands, was Kylo Ren. You took a few more steps forward before clearing your throat.

“Um, hi…I’m y/n? You kinda knocked me over earlier? I was summoned?” Kylo looked up from his hands, flashing you that signature smile.

He stood, taking long strides in your direction, before crashing into you once more.

All at once his fingers were laced in your hair and his full lips were pressing into yours, you let out a muffled gasp and froze in his grip.

What the hell was he doing?!

#full court press #saynotoshityouhate #weareallstoriesintheend #nba!kylo ren #nba!kylo #adcu #adcu fic #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren au #adcu community #star wars x reader #star wars

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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years

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Taking it Natural

Well I can never fully stick to an outline lmao. But, I did manage a lil fic involving just some simple stuff between Cormag and Artur.

Kink stuff is more on the lesser end, cause I wanted to focus a bit more on dialogue and also wanted to write something on the smaller scale of sizes. Also was just fun to write a shorter, simpler story and also one not set in Askr which I need to do more lol

"I am perfectly fine doing the dishes," Artur lightly hums to himself. He scrubs away at the bits and remnants of the day's finished meal. A few pots and pans already on the drying rack alongside the ladles, said dishes preemptively cleaned before dinner had even been eaten, he washes the clutter of used dinnerware. His back facing Cormag, his partner currently sits at the couch.

"I'll go check on Genarog then," His voice comes out strained. Completely leaning against the couch, Cormag's stomach continues its prolonged harassment towards its owner. His stomach is a cacophony of churning and gurgling noises, the overworked, stuffed gut letting it's discomfort be known. Despite his declaration of performing a chore, he simply remains seated with his head leaning back. His lips are parted as he languidly recovers enough energy to catch his breath.

"I already fed him and made sure he's comfortable in his stable," Arthur places a plate on the drying rack beside the just washed cutlery and glassware. His still soapy hands reach for the next plate to scrub at.

"Ah," Cormag's strenuous breathing remains the same. He keeps his eyes closed as a way to block out any possible external discomfort besides his tumultuous tummy. "Then I'll…" Cormag trails off with a groan. A few extra pants and wheezes come out as his gut seems to give him an extra angry complaint. "Then I'll-"

"You can wait on the couch. I am fine, Cormag," The last plate cleaned and set aside to dry, he dries his hands on a dish towel, the damp cloth adorned with miniature wyverns. Turning around, he smiles as he gets an eyeful of Cormag's sorry stuffed state.

Cormag retiring from being a soldier, he had instead taken up woodworking once he and Artur decided to live together. His new line of work requiring a different, less intensive set of skills, the sudden change of constant routines and fighting to meticulous, long periods of time sitting while carving was a sudden change for his metabolism and appetite. The lack of much activity affecting his physique was only compounded by Artur's task of taking care of the house's chores. Cormag had already been aware of Artur's proficiency in the culinary arts through their occasional picnics back when the two had first begun a relationship, yet the latter's constant practice through cooking everyday left his prowess in the kitchen to something to truly be proud of. Cormag having a generous fill of food every meal of the day, his indulgence of Artur's cooking hadn't moved quite past an extra helping or two every go around. Although, even those generous extra helpings helped plump and widen his waistline to a body type rather past stocky and into fat guy territory.

Clothes upsized just as his body upsized, his maroon t-shirt does a sufficient job in covering Cormag’s sun kissed skin. His compact yet soft pile of squishy fat for a stomach curves outwards as it ever so gently slots itself on top of his doughy thighs. Pressed up against his shirt, the malleable tummy barely covers any of Cormag’s lap, enough space for Artur to be comfortably seated atop him still. The two fleshy legs seem even wider as he sits, the bunched up fat splaying a slightly extra amount from resting on the couch. Cormag’s pants do their best in perfectly covering the two, the waistband even widened as well to not uncomfortably squish against Cormag’s hips. The center of his gut juts out more than his squeezable love handles, Cormag’s rotundness more pronounced. The stuffed mass seems to taunt Artur, his eyes finding themselves often drifting back towards the perfectly rubbably surface. Cormag’s sizable chest makes itself comfortable on top of his stomach, the handful of breasts splaying a bit to the side from the accumulation of fat. His pronounced chest only helps make Cormag seem extra wide, Artur always feeling rather twiggish next to his plump teddy bear of a husband. Though the lightly tanned moobs are offered enough room from Cormag’s spacious shirt to not be so confined and pressed up against the fabric. Cormag’s biceps are no more, the somewhat, albeit nicely, defined biceps coated in a plush, warm layer of fat. The plump appendaged perfect for a nice, crushing yet comforting hug, Cormag’s arms had always been a secret favorite of Artur’s. Cormag rests his arms on the cushiony back pillows, the bottom heft of his arms squishing ever so slightly against the surface. His face at the very center of his arm span, Artur can only see the fleshy double chin connected to Cormag’s lovably wonderful kissable face. Though he can very much hear his love’s taxed breathing even over the angered grumbling coming from his gut.

“Oh, Artur,” Cormag’s arms wobble for a few moments; the two doughy appendages struggle as he tries to push himself up despite his body’s protests. “Give me, hah, a minute,” His rotund body expands with each great, deep breath he takes.

“No worries,” Artur sits himself beside Cormag. His lap calling to him, he’d feel like a monster causing him anymore discomfort. “I’ll wait beside you,” Artur pats Cormag’s thigh.

“Heh,” Cormag lets out a small chuckle, the only response he can give before he has to take a few more breaths to help relieve the heavy pit of pain resting in his gut. “I really ate like a pig,”

The faint warm onset of a blush on Artur’s face blossoms on his face, the healer always getting a tinge of embarrassment whenever Cormag even offhandedly mentions his size or eating habits. “Perhaps. But, I should learn to stop cooking so much. I just think of something nice for us to share and so I kinda just make it,” Artur tosses a noncommittal shrug at the end, a few awkward laughs thrown in as well as if he hadn’t confessed his unique admiration in the way Cormag’s body plumped out. A few extra pounds looking rather dashing on his tall figure which would only look more handsome if those few extra pounds swelled into a dozen or perhaps even a hundred before Cormag was resting at a sizable 300 pounder of a man.

“Maybe. Guess we both should learn some restraint,”

“Perhaps,,,” Artur nearly reaches for Cormag’s aching gut to soothe the beast before thinking better of it. “I have a salve that should help,” Without waiting for any confirmation, Artur goes to the closet full of his supplies. Herbs able to help cure maladies unlike staves, he rummages through the several jars and boxes he has. Though only Artur would consider his neat, organized setup a mess requiring rummaging, Lute always interested in his tidy organizational skill. Having fetched the ointment, he stands in front of the seated Cormag. “This has to go directly on your skin,” He tosses the lower hem of Cormag’s shirt up. Applying a dollop of the ointment on his hands, he wastes no time in getting them all over Cormag’s stomach.

“You’ve never needed an excuse to do this stuff before,” The salve immediately begins to work its magic on Cormag. His labored breathing slowly begins to take on a more natural pace and the evident discomfort on his face washes away. “You sure do know your way around there,” Cormag even shifts around on the couch, his stomach no longer threatening to self-destruct from the slightest jostle.

Artur drops his head in mirthful laughter, Cormag’s surprising silly teasing always getting to him. “I have rubbed your stomach how many times, Cormag?” His hands drift on over to Cormag’s love handles. Standing above Cormag, he grabs on to the chunky handles as he leans down for a kiss.

“Not enough, knowing you,” Cormag whispers as they part.

“Then you truly do know me,” Artur retorts. Cormag’s stomach is no longer a ticking time bomb, so he figures it’d be fine to sit in his favorite spot. He gently lowers himself down onto Cormag’s lap. His soft squishy, tummy rests comfortably against his back.

“If you had this kind of stuff laying around, why use it only now?”

“Well- I,,,” Artur considers his next words for a moment. “I felt bad with how much I stuffed you tonight. I may have gone overboard so-”

Cormag promptly cuts him off with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t force me to do anything. You’re cooking is great. I tell all my clients about your cooking. They kept hounding me about your recipe for those cookies you always make to butter them up,”

“Ah,” Artur turns bright red as he recalls the high praises from all of Cormag’s clients, a few even inadvertently referring to Cormag’s weight upon said praises. “Well, I also didn’t use this because I didn’t want you to feel like I only cared about stuffing you and getting you fatter,”

“I’m gonna have to get up for this one,” Rising up, Cormag makes sure to help Artur up first. “Look at me,” He grabs Artur’s shoulders. Artur shorter by a few inches, he feels miniscule right now. “If I ever have any problems with my weight, you are going to be the first person I tell. We’ve known each other for years before I started gaining weight,” Cormag brings Artur to him, wrapping him in a bear hug. Artur’s arms are ensnared by Cormag’s own doughy arms. Though he knows his arms wouldn’t be able to wrap around him regardless. His feet rise off a few inches from the ground as Cormag holds on to him. Cormag begins to chuckle, his heart always aflutter with Artur in his arms. The ring of laughter catches onto Artur, the two laughing together. They remain like so for a few minutes, neither speaking.

Eventually, Cormag lets Arthur back down. A hefty sigh escapes his lips from the minimal amount of activity. “And if you ever have any problems with my weight, then let me know,” Cormag holds onto Artur’s hands, rubbing the palm of them with his thumb.

“Of course. But I don’t think I could ever have a problem having such a handsome husband.”

“Unfortunately for you, my husband is more handsome than yours,” Artur snorts from Cormag’s reply. His hands find their way to Cormag’s arm for a light slap.

“I guess you win then. But, thank you. Neither of us have done this, so I wanted to make sure we’re going at a natural pace for the both of us,”

“Taking it nice and slow is my preference. Enjoying the travel is just as important as the destination or however you say it,” An idea sparking in his brain, Cormag devilishly grins, his plump cheeks dimpling. “Let’s enjoy the scenic route some more,” Cormag leans slightly down. He gently whispers in Artur’s ears before resting his lips on his partner’s.

Artur grinning, he merely murmurs in hushed agreement as Cormag kisses him, the crackle of joy feeling just as natural as their first kiss, the two ready to indeed enjoy Cormag’s current size and take things naturally, wherever it might lead.

#Cormag is kinda hard to write but I hope this is somewhat close #I just imagine him eing actually kinda dorkish with someone he's comfortable lol #my writing #fat fiction #fat!Cormag #fat!Sacred Stones #maleweightgain #male weight gain

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years

Note

Hiii! I have returned HAHAH may I request prompt no. 10 from your holiday list for (of course, the one and only) Zoro? Hehe thank you so much 💖

Holiday Prompt #10 With Zoro

A/N : look at this gorgeous, sexy swordsman. I love him. 💚 thank you for requesting again!! :D I was wondering where you’ve been, haha.

note : suggestive themes ahead! bit of NSFW. also a bit cliché.

H.P. #10 : Hot Springs

Summary : exploring a new island, you and Zoro both agree to hit the hot springs first. However..

“God, Zoro..”

The soft pants was heard throughout the hot spring’s walls, Zoro’s grunts following after as he pulls your head towards his.

He then connected your lips together and captured them in a lustful and passionate kiss, effectively keeping you quiet.

“Shut up..” He growls out quietly, thrusting upwards into you even harder, the quiet sounds of splashing from the water in the hot springs being heard.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your breasts against him, your hot breath hit his ear and soft whimpers of pleasures slipped from your throat.

Trying your best to keep quiet so the people outside the walls couldn’t hear, it was proving difficult with how hard Zoro was thrusting into you.

How did you even get to this point?

“You wanna join us, [Name]?”

Hearing Nami’s offer, you gave a gentle shake of your head. “You and Robin can shop together. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do then?” Usopp asks, getting his things together to explore the island with Chopper and Luffy.

You glance around and shrug a bit. “I might hit the hot springs first and stay there for a while. It’ll be pretty relaxing and a nice stress relief.”

Sanji and Brook can feel their noses leaking blood as Sanji swoons. “MY DEAR [NAME]-CHAN IN THE HOT SPRINGS?!”

You sweat drop a bit as Sanji seemed to be lost in a fantasy and clear your throat. “Right, so I’ll get going then..”

“Hot springs huh? I’ll join you with that.” Zoro grins a bit, seeming to enjoy the idea of relaxing in the steam.

Snapping out of his dream, Sanji scowls at Zoro. “You damn marimo, you better not try anything that will hurt and damage my [Name]-chan’s innocence, you hear me?!”

Zoro scoffs at the cook, rolling his eyes. “As if I’ll try anything, and not like I could anyways, you stupid cook. Hot springs are always separated!”

Luffy could only laugh at the two bickering as Nami just exhales and shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Ignore them. We’ll come and join you in the hot springs if we finish early. And if you happen to be out before then, we’ll be at the mall.”

You return the navigator’s smile and nod, waving to them as they began to take off, Usopp dragging Sanji away with the help of Franky.

You turn to Zoro, who was still holding a scowl towards the blonde chef and you pat his arm. “Come on, just ignore him. Let’s get going.”

Zoro’s scowl slowly fades as he nods at you and began walking, heading in the opposite direction.

You giggle lightly and point in the correct direction and call out to him. “Hot springs’ this way.”

Quickly stopping in his tracks, Zoro clears his throat and began following after you, shutting his eye and avoided eye contact with you, turning his face to hide his flushed cheeks.

You playfully roll your eyes at him and continued to walk towards the hot springs.

Once you arrived at the building that led to the hot springs, feel a grin forming. “Time for relaxation!”

Noticing a sign, you walk up to it and read it aloud.

“An outdoor hot springs, wooden walls cover the area and genders are separated.. a door is placed between the wall that separates genders for safety reasons...”

“An outdoor hot springs, huh?” Zoro questions, listening to you read that. “..seems so.” You nod slowly, eyes still skimming the sign.

However, your mind was more focused on the door that led to the other gender’s bathhouse.

Looking away, you notice the two doors that separated genders and smile slightly.

“Looks like I’ll be parting ways with you.”

Zoro nods, a small curl of his lips could be seen as he began heading to the males’ bathroom. “Yeah. See you.”

You hum and made way to the females’ restroom, closing the door and look around. There were lockers and cubbies for personal items, and neatly stacked towels for use.

Stripping yourself of your clothes, you grab one of the larger towels and wrap it around your torso and began heading out, moving the glass door to exit.

Making your way over to the water, you subconsciously glance over towards the wall that divided you from Zoro and wondered how thin the walls were.

You then saw the door and deadpan at it. It wasn’t even by the end or the corner of the wall, it was directly in the center.

The height of the wall was pretty high though, so that was nice for some privacy.

Exhaling softly and trying to relieve any nerves or worries, you just pull off the towel slowly as you began lowering yourself down into the water.

The warmth enveloped your body and a satisfied sigh escaped your lips.

“Ah..”

Zoro leans back against the rock as he made himself comfortable in the water, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as his eyes shut closed.

Feeling content at the steam the water brought, Zoro was at peace and tranquility.

“Nothing can disturb my peace..” he mutters out calmly, feeling all weight and stress lift off his shoulders.

That is, until he heard something.

“Hm, hm, hm~”

Furrowing his brows, Zoro opens his eye and listens intently to the hum just now. “Hm~”

Glancing over in the direction of the hum, he noticed the wall and door before hearing an all too familiar voice singing.

“..is that [Name]?..” he tilts his head a bit, wondering why he was able to hear you but figuring out the wall must be the only thing separating the two of you.

He didn’t say anything and just closed his eye again, relaxing in the bath and just let himself enjoy your melodic voice.

Though, he didn’t expect to hear a scream from you in the middle of the singing.

Snapping up, Zoro quickly stands up, having the thought to grab a towel and wrap around himself before rushing through the door, slamming it open.

He looks into the female’s bathhouse and expected to see some pervert or enemy on the verge of attacking you..

But instead sees your naked form standing across the water, towards the wall and staring at the surface ground.

Where a spider was crawling.

“Z-Zoro!”

Zoro was just in shock, not expecting to see a mere spider to be the cause of your fear and much less to see your naked body, only thing covering you was your arms but even then it barely did much.

Immediately, the heat began rising to his cheeks and it wasn’t from the steam.

“I-I, I heard you scream and I thought it was..” He stuttered at first, flustered and unsure of what to say.

Warm cheeks washed over your own as you glanced down at him and notice he was just in a towel and blushed deeper, as the realization sinked in.

“Ah-!” Widening your eyes, you shriek and jump down into your water, crossing your arms tightly around your body and hugged yourself.

Zoro jumped at your scream again and his blush deepens as he takes a step back before turning away instantly. “S-Sorry! I-l”

He just shut his mouth before he said anything as you tried to hide yourself more, which didn’t help since the water was rather clear.

“I-It’s fine, but just, leave, please!” You utter out, turning away from him but only heard him grunt a bit and the sound of jiggling can be heard.

“Er..”

Slowing turning back to face the green-haired swordsman, you furrow your brows slightly. “What’s wrong?..”

“The door is stuck.”

“Huh? What do you mean the door is stuck?!”

Instinctively, you stood up and began running towards the door where he stood and began roughly handling the doorknob.

Zoro widens his eyes at your body as he sputters and coughs. “O-Oi, aren’t you going to cover up?!” He scowls a bit, ignoring the red blush of his cheeks.

“Damn it, how can it be stuck?” You mutter a scoff and a string of curses, ignoring Zoro’s words as Zoro exhales and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, calm down, it’s fine.” Zoro says, trying to get you to relax as he focused his eyes on your face more than anywhere else.

“I’ll just go out from the door that leads to the baths, so don’t get so worked up.” He sighs, bringing a hand to touch and place itself on your shoulder.

Still focusing on the door, your hand suddenly slipped from the handle and you knocked Zoro’s arm back, just enough to cause him to start falling backwards.

Shocked, you rushed to grab his arm to help him up, but Zoro’s strength only caused you to fall down with him, with you on top.

“Ouch..”

Zoro grunts at the newfound weight on his body, slowly lifting his head and opening his eye to see if you’re alright, just to get a face full of your bare breasts.

“Hnngh-!”

“Aish.. Zoro, are you alright?” Pressing your hands onto his chest, you lifted your upper body up a bit, groaning out slightly at the pain in your side and ankle.

Hearing no reply from him, you sat up and widen your eyes to see his red face and him doing his best to look anywhere but you.

“Zoro, are you okay?! Are you hurt?” You question franticallg, unnoticed of the situation that was occurring.

Straddling his hips, you try to pull his hands away from his face. “Oi, why aren’t you answering me?! Are you okay?!”

“..Damn it, j-just get off of me already! I’m fine!” Zoro shifted uncomfortably beneath you, and with his shifting, was it only then did you realize what was happening.

You were straddling Zoro.

And what you felt beneath you, wasn’t just his thighs. It was something a little bigger, and right under you bottom. You were sitting on the hot seat.

A bulge was forming below you, making you shift side to side a bit to get comfortable but Zoro was quick to stop you with his hands, placed at the sides of your arms.

“Stop that, before it gets worse.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to get up, only to wince and fall back down, much fo his dismay.

“S-Sorry, I’m just a little sprained..” you mumble, trying to slide off but with the movements you made and the thin towel that kept your skin from touching each other,

You were causing some friction to rub against him, and Zoro was not comfortable.

“O-Oi, stop moving for a second.”

It didn’t take a genius to tell that you were basically grinding against his crotch but it wasn’t your fault. You were hurt and stuck on top of him.

“I’m sorry but-“

Biting your lip, you stayed still for him as Zoro took a moment to relax and just breathe and think this over.

It was going to be awkward as hell, considering that you two were crewmates and just happened to end up in such a situation like this. If the others found out.. Zoro didn’t even want to imagine it.

Zoro’s hands made their way to your waist as he grins it tightly and he pondered what to do.

He couldn’t lift you up directly because you could end up hurting yourself further if he wasn’t careful, and he could also slip off his own towel but if you closed your eyes, maybe it would be okay.

“Hey, would you-“

“Zoro..”

Interrupting him, you chewed on your lower lip as you leaned down to face the swordsman, breasts pressed against his chest and your ass positioned directly over his covered, semi-hardened member.

“Do.. do you mind if we..” you trailed off a bit, a bit too embarrassed to ask him yourself.

You had small feelings for the man, and with all that shifting from him and you, you couldn’t deny that your lower heat was starting to get wet, and it wasn’t from the water either.

“Just for today, if you don’t mind. Please? I need you, right now.” You whispered out, slowly moving your hips so you can form some sort of friction against him, eliciting a low groan from him as Zoro narrows his eyes.

He was quiet for a moment, staring directly at you for any sign of hesitation or lie. Deeming that you were genuine and serious, he clicks his tongue.

“Fuck it..”

And with that, he moves his hand up to cup your cheeks and pulls your face down so he can press your lips together with his into a kiss.

Which soon led to you and Zoro fucking right in the hot springs, going several rounds all over the place.

It wasn’t until you heard the crew’s voices outside the walls, that you two eventually stopped.

“..do you think they heard us?” You breathed out heavily, glancing at the walls before at Zoro.

Zoro was mid-thrust, still thrusting in and out of you, though it was slower but still just as deep and rough.

Zoro licked his lips lustfully, eyeing the walls carefully before leaning down to capture your lips in his once more.

“Who cares? Right now, all my attention is on you.”

a/n: hiii, I hope you guys liked this!! Thanks so much for requesting againnnn! 💚 I love Zoroooo.

Does it seemed rushed? I’m too worried about my writings being rushed now.

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #holiday prompt #one piece writing #ns.fw

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years

Note

Hey I like your blog a lot but I have to create an account to send this! :) can you write Dazai, Chuuya and Atsushi finding their s/o crying alone in the closet? Been feel down lately, thank 🥺💘

a/n : I hope you feel better. If you ever need to talk to someone I'm always here to talk to. I hope you like this sweetie. Much love to you, dear.

Dazai

He was used to you not answering your phone every time he called, you were an avid napper and he only called as much as he did to make sure you knew that he cared. He knew that you enjoyed waking up to see your phone screen filled with notifications from him, missed calls, and so many voicemails that the mailbox was filled completely.

He started getting slightly antsy when you didn't respond to any of his texts or calls by mid-evening. Sure, you napped a lot, but you never stayed asleep this long. You would at least have gotten up to use the restroom or get something to eat or something. "Maybe she just didn't check her phone..." He mused to himself, spinning around in his desk chair at the office, staring at his phone screen that was opened to your texts. He was waiting for those three little dots that would indicate that you were responding, that you were okay.

"Get off your phone, Dazai." Kunikida said, smacking the top of his head with his notebook as he walked by. He grunted and set his phone down on his desk, turning back to the work on the table. Sure, he didn't actually enjoy doing work, but it was the only thing that got his mind off the fact that you weren't writing back.

Back at the apartment you shot up in your bed, it felt like there was a giant weight on your chest, your head was pounding and your vision was going blurry as you felt the tears coming on. Nothing in particular had triggered your anxiety attack, sometimes it just happened. You clutched your hands to your chest as you kicked the blankets from around your legs, but they only got more tangled. Your breathing became harsher, the feeling of being trapped had you in a full blown panic and you kept kicking, trying to remove the blankets. You moved off the bed, and as you looked around you realized how dark it was. Your senses were heightened, you heard every noise from outside, you could feel the vibrations in the floor as trucks drove by, everything had you on edge.

You ran to the closet door, grabbing one of Dazai's shirts off the floor knowing that his scent would be on the shirt, you slumped down against the wall gripping the shirt tightly and bringing it up to your face, trying to find some comfort in his familiar musky scent. Your tears flowed silently as you rocked back and forth on the floor, trying to even out your breaths and calm down as much as you could.

It was 8:30 at night and you still hadn't responded to any of his calls or texts. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and slipped his arms through as he made his way out of the office. He was always the first person to leave, but nobody had ever seen Dazai move so quick. He ran out of the building, and luckily for him your apartment was only a block away. He started off in a sprint, his skin hyper aware, hoping to feel the much anticipated vibration of his phone in his pocket.

When he got to the apartment complex he saw that none of the lights were on in any of the windows and he began to panic, fumbling with the building key as he tried to unlock the main door to get in. He couldn't steady his hands and it took him a full two minutes just to get the key in the lock, but as soon as he did he had the door flung in and he was racing up that stairs, skipping two at a time to get to his floor as quick as he could.

He got to the apartment door and he was more careful this time, worrying that maybe someone was in there with you. He slowly unlocked the door and turned the handle, walking on his toes as he stepped into your shared apartment, careful not to make any of the floorboards creak or knock into anything. He didn't turn on any lights, but he could see in the moonlight that everything looked the same as the way he had left it this morning when he went to work. There was no sign of any struggling, but you were still nowhere to be found.

As he walked further into the house he could hear small whimpers coming from the bedroom. His mind jumped to conclusions, thinking that you had been attacked during your nap, and that the perpetrator had left you for dead. He ran as fast as he could, knocking into the decorative table that was against the wall, knocking off the pictures that had lined the table. He didn't care as the glass shattered against the hardwood floors, he just needed to get into the room.

He kicked open the bedroom door and heard your soft squeal from the closet. "Y/N?" He whispered your name as he walked over to the closet, opening the door to find you curled up in a ball on the floor of the closet. "Hey... you okay?" He asked, bending down to sit on the floor next to you. He was slightly taken aback as you scurried across the floor to move onto his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in his chest. "It's okay... It's okay, my belladonna. I'm here now."

He had only been slightly aware of your anxiety, you had never let on to him how bad it could get at any point during your relationship, and he surely hadn't seen you this bad off. It broke his heart to know that you had been crying by yourself in the closet for god knows how long. He cradled you against his chest, his arms loosely wrapped around you, not wanting you to feel too constricted in his hold, but he didn't want to let you go.

He would always nonchalantly ask how you were feeling every morning, making sure you were okay before he left for work. He set your phone up with a special ringtone for his calls and texts only so you knew it was him, and his texts would always be things along the lines of him telling you he loved you or asking if you were okay.

You were his beautiful belladonna, his one and only, and he wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

Chuuya

He kissed you softly before leaving, not able to look directly at you as you pouted at him from the bed. It was supposed to be his day off, you had planned the entire day for the two of you and it was centered around him specifically. "I'll try to be back soon, baby." He said, trying not to let his frustration show through his words, he felt just as bad about leaving as you did seeing him leave.

When he got to work he realized that he had left his phone back at the penthouse, he was forgetful when he was aggravated. Now he couldn't even text you to let you know that he loved you, to tell you that he couldn't wait to see you. He was pissed at Mori for calling him in, and he was pissed at himself for accepting it. He could have said no, he should have said no. He knew that you had spent all week planning for this day, the two of you had been looking forward to it since the beginning of the week when he had informed you that he had a day off.

His phone started ringing and he picked it up, not giving the person on the other end a second to speak before he started screaming. "Will you just piss off! Leave me alone for a god damned minute!" He slammed the phone down onto the receiver and sighed. It felt good to let some of his anger out, and he didn't really care who the unsuspecting victim was on the other end of the line. Leaning his head against the back of his chair he looked up at the clock on the wall, it was already three in the afternoon, he wondered what you were doing.

You had called his phone once, just wanting to hear his voice. You missed him even more right now, knowing that he should be here with you and he wasn't. It wasn't fair, but it also wasn't his fault. You knew that he couldn't say no to his boss, it didn't take away the sting of watching him walk out that door though.

When his phone started vibrating on the nightstand you couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed. He wasn't here, and now you couldn't even talk to him because he had left without his cellphone. You sat on the bed trying to figure out what to do, and then you had it, the best idea! You pulled up the number pad and began dialing the number, it would connect you directly to his office.

You pressed the call button and held the phone to your ear, the smile already forming on your face as you waited for his voice to come through. Your mouth opened to speak, but he was faster, screaming at you through the line and you could only sit in shock, your mouth still hanging open as his voice rang in your ears. You were about to respond but you heard the phone slam on his end, and then the dead silence right before the dial tone.

Did he know it was you? Was he mad at you for calling while he was at work? Did he not like you calling his office phone? Your hands were shaking, you couldn't even hold your phone. It dropped down to the bed next to you and you slowly got up, your movements were robotic as you made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed the shot glass out of the cabinet and poured yourself a shot of whiskey. You hated the taste, but you hoped that the sting of the alcohol hitting your stomach would overpower the sting from Chuuya's words.

It didn't take much, you were a lightweight, and you soon found out that your tolerance for whiskey was even lower than your tolerance for vodka. Your head felt heavy, and when you got up to go back into the bedroom it felt like the gravitational pull was fifty times stronger than it had been before you had drank. You used anything and everything as a crutch as you walked to the room, but it seemed like with every step you took, the door moved back further. You had lost your footing and began crawling at this point towards the door, the entire room was spinning.

You don't know how you got in the closet, but when the door was shut, no light shone through and the lack of lighting helped ease your headache. The only problem now was that you were stuck with your over analytical drunken thoughts, and that wasn't a good thing at all. He hated you, he was going to leave you, that's why he accepted the job offer. He didn't want to be with you today in the first place. He was cheating on you. Your call had interrupted his fling with another woman. You started crying, and it didn't seem like it would ever end, the thoughts only continued to grow more and more painful as you dwelled on them longer.

Chuuya was called into the meeting room, and as he sat around the table he looked at everyone's faces. He expected one of them to look pissed at him, or maybe call him out for being such an ass to them over the phone, but none of them seemed phased. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Which one of you fuckers called me earlier?" They all looked confused, none of them had called him, but now he was the one confused. "Well who else has my office number?"

"I gave Y/N your office phone number, just in case there was an emergency and-" He held his hand up to cut Kouyou off, his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose as her words sank in. None of them had called... you were the only other person who would have that number... He had talked to you that way...

"Dammit!" He shouted, pushing back from the large table. Everyone's eyes followed him as he stormed out of the room, running back to his office to call back the last number. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Then it went to voicemail. "HEEEEYYYY!!! This is Y/N! I can't make it to the phone right now... Chuuya stop! That ticklessss...." The message stopped and the beep sounded, but he couldn't speak.

He grabbed his keys off his desk and ran out the door, trying to think of what he would say, what could he say? If he had just given you the chance to speak before going off this wouldn't even be an issue. How would you even react to seeing him running through the door? Would you allow him to take you in his arms, would you listen to his apology? Surely you couldn't believe that he would purposely talk to you that way! He loved you dearly, he would never talk to you in that tone, even when you piss him off, which was a rarity, he still was able to keep his cool with you. You were too important to him to even think of talking to you in such a way that risked having you leave him.

He ran out of the building to his car, shoving the key into the ignition and pulling out of the lot, his tires squealing as they peeled across the asphalt. His fears were taking over as he sped down the freeway, hoping that he could make it to the penthouse before you left. He was so scared that you would walk out on him, and although it seems silly that you wold leave him over something so seemingly small, he knew how sensitive you were. You were so delicate, fragile... he was so worried that he had broken you.

He ran into the penthouse, his body was going the same speed his sports car had been going down the highways. Getting to you was of the utmost importance, he had to apologize, he had to tell you that he didn't mean to speak to you that way at all. When he walked in he saw the bottle of whiskey out on the counter, it was still open, the lid laying next to it. The small shot glass had a small tinge of your lipstick on the brim, and although he didn't like the idea of you drinking by yourself, at least he knew that you were still there.

"Y/N? Baby, where are you at?" He called out, looking around the open living area. He would have seen you when he walked in if you were there though, so he made his way to the bathroom door, knocking lightly before opening the door and peaking in, only to find it empty. He turned to the bedroom door that was still slightly cracked open, and that's when he heard your quiet sobs coming from the room.

He pushed the door open and looked around, expecting to find you on the bed, but it was empty as well. The sound had definitely come from this room though, so he looked around the room. A small hiccup sounded from the closet and he made his way over, tapping his knuckle against the door rhythmically before asking if he could open the door. You didn't respond, and he didn't quite know if that meant yes or no, but he didn't want to keep you waiting for an explanation, and he didn't want to stand around while you were obviously crying behind the door. He turned the knob slowly and pulled the door open, and when he saw you it was like his heart broke.

You were curled in the fetal position on the floor, clinging onto one of his hoodies like it was a lifeline, sobbing into the fabric. Your body was trembling with the shaky intermittent breaths you took in between your silent sobs. He dropped to the floor, reaching out a hand to place on your shoulder, but you jerked away from his touch. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He whispered weakly, it killed him seeing you cry, knowing that it was his fault only made it worse.

"Was she prettier than me? Do you love her?" Your voice was muffled behind the hoodie, and he wasn't sure if he heard you correctly. You peered up from the clothing, squinting your eyes as you tried to adjust to the lighting. "You won't answer..."

"You... you think that I was... cheating?" He had heard you right, but that didn't make it any easier for him to process what you had said. Did you really think he was capable of such a thing? You sniffled and your bottom lip jutted out, he reached out to hold your face in his hands, brushing away the tears with his thumbs. "Baby doll, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on, the only girl I ever have and ever will love." Had he given you a reason to doubt him? Had he not told you that he loved you enough? Did he don't tell you enough just how gorgeous you were? He would gladly remind you every second of every day just to ease your worrying mind.

He ended up sitting with you in the closet for a bit, he sat against the wall with your head in his lap. His fingers trailed absentmindedly across your body as he listened to you speak. You told him about your insecurities, how you never felt like you were good enough for him, that you were always so scared that he'd find someone better someday. When you finished speaking he made sure to reassure you that you were beyond good enough for him, that you were too good for him. There would never be anyone better than you, it was impossible for there to be someone in the entire galaxy who was as amazing, beautiful, and genuinely perfect as you.

Atsushi

Atsushi was very protective of you, considering you were the only person in his life who has ever genuinely loved him, he didn't want to lose you or the affection you gave him. He was always scared that you would leave him or that someone would take you away. He thought that he was cursed, that everything good that ever came to him would eventually die or be destroyed. He was under the impression that he didn't deserve happiness, but once he found you, he was starting to believe that maybe it was possible, maybe for once in his life he was allowed to experience true joy. The protectiveness wasn't that bad, it was just him acting on his fears, and that was something that you had gotten used to. He wasn't over bearing, he didn't keep you locked in the house or anything, he just always checked up on you, his voice was always filled with worry whenever he called, he just loved you so much, he wanted to be sure that you were okay, that you were going to be there when he came back home. You always reassured him that you would be right there waiting for him, and you could picture in your head his cheeks burning bright red whenever you said those simple words, reminding him that you loved him dearly and that you would never leave.

You were already awake, fresh out of the shower, padding around the kitchen as you made him breakfast. He always slept in a little later, his ability was tiring for him, and using it left him exhausted. He needed extra sleep to keep up with work, but you couldn't deny how precious he looked when he was sleeping, and you always got to witness him when he first woke. He would trudge into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his mouth stretched in a wide "O" as he yawned, before finally opening his eyes and seeing you standing at the stove working on whatever food was on the stove. It happened as planned, a perfect daily happening that you looked forward to every morning. He wrapped his arms around your back, pressing a swift kiss to your neck before working to help you lay out the plates on the table. "You're going to be okay while I'm at work, right?" It was always the same question every morning, as if anything would make today any different from the days before.

"I'll be fine Atushi. You really need to stop worrying about me so much. It's much more dangerous for you out there than it is for me in here." You tried to calm his nerves, turning around to look at him. He was sitting at the table, his head in his hands, his mind filled with worry. You made your way over to where he was sitting and draped your arms over his shoulders, planting a small kiss to the top of his head, a small sigh of relief escaped his lips as you pulled away.

"Promise me, if anything happens, you'll call me. Okay?" He turned his head to look up at you, his face becoming flushed when he saw how close your face was to his own. You nodded, it was a quick jerky movement and the smile that replaced the small pout that he had been wearing only seconds before made your heart flutter. He was perfect in every way, and sometimes you wondered if you deserved such a man as him. You pecked the tip of his nose before heading back over to the stove to flip the pancakes. Today would be a good day, a normal day, just like any other day. He had nothing to worry about.

Atsushi got into the office and everyone could tell he was on edge. They were dealing with the Port Mafia, Akutagawa being the worst of them. The Port wanted to get their hands on him, and he was paranoid about how far they were willing to go to get to him. Every other worry he had about you previously seemed like nothing now, the Port Mafia was one of the biggest threats he had to deal with, and if there was anyone who would be able to get their hands on you, it would be them.

"Hey, come on... don't worry so much. She's always been safe before, she'll be fine today, and every day after." Dazai tried to console a panicking Atsushi. He was sitting at his desk, his pen tapping loudly against the hard wood, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard that Dazai was sure that it would begin bleeding any second now.

"Before... before the Mafia was after me? That's what you mean, right?" Atsushi asked sarcastically, finally dropping his pen and spinning his chair around to face Dazai. "I...I can't lose her Dazai-san... I can't!" The tears threatened to spill over, his heart rate was rapid, his breath came out quickly and when he tried to inhale it sounded more like he was choking.

"They don't even know where she is, where you live. They know nothing. She's going to be alright." Dazai patted his back before turning away, leaving Atsushi alone to dwell on his fears. His head fell against the desk with a loud thud as the tears finally fell from his eyes.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through tv stations trying to find something that could be used as background noise for your daily afternoon nap. You finally settled on the Weather Channel before getting comfortable enough to close your eyes and get some rest. You had just begun to fall into a peaceful slumber when you heard the front door knob being wiggled. You tried to brush it off as someone possibly coming to the wrong apartment door, just an accident, that's what it was. You tried to settle back down on the pillow, but then the knob was wiggled more violently. You sat straight up, grabbing your phone as you quietly moved off the couch and tiptoed into your bedroom. There was a pounding on the door, and as soon as you got to the bedroom you shut the door behind you and locked it. The violent pounding and the jerking of the doorknob seemed to go on endlessly. You were panicking as you held the phone against your chest, looking around your room to try to find somewhere that you could hide and call Atsushi.

The closet door was cracked open and you hurried over, grabbing a metal hanger from the rack and wrapping it around the handles on the inside. You tried to calm yourself as the sounds of the possible intruder trying to break their way into your home echoed throughout the house. Your hands were shaking and your palms were sweaty as you cowered in the far corner of the closet, trying to pull up Atsushi's number. You held the phone to your ear and took a shaky breath as the ringing resounded through the speaker. It only took one ring for him to answer, you never called him while he was working, so he knew there was something wrong.

"Y/N! Are you okay? What's wrong?" The panic in his voice was still nothing close to the panic you were feeling in that moment. You wanted nothing more than for him to be here with you, to let you know that everything was going to be okay.

"S-someone... they're... trying to g-get in..." You stuttered out in a shaky whisper, your cheeks were wet and stained with the tears that had fallen and were still falling. You heard the sound of Atsushi's phone being dropped, hitting the hard wood floors of the office with a loud thud as a large gush of wind whistled through the speakers.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face between them, trying to control your breathing as you listened out for the banging on the door. It had stopped completely, and you feared that maybe the person had finally made it in and was now looking for you. You tried to make out any sounds of footsteps or talking, but everything was silent. Everything seemed so still, it was eerie, and that scared you even more.

Atsushi was racing down the back alleys, hoping and praying that he would get to you in time. He should have trusted his gut feeling that he had this morning and just stayed home with you. The feeling that something bad would happen had lingered with him all through the night and all morning during breakfast, and he had been right. He was running at the speed of light, his body being propelled forward with the sheer force of anger and fear.

When he made it up to the apartment he saw that the door wasn't opened, and he didn't know if that made him feel better or worse. Would someone have shut the door after doing damage? He wasn't sure. Most movies he had seen had the door left open after a crime was committed, and all the cases he had worked were either outside or in warehouses, so he wasn't really sure what to think.

His hands were shaking as he reached out to grab the door knob, it was still locked. He saw the marks on the door though, signs of someone beating at it repeatedly, the wood was scuffed and in some places even chipped. Someone had really wanted to get in, but whoever it was either didn't have an ability, or just didn't want to attract attention and decided not to use it at all. He pulled out his keys and quickly unlocked the door, pushing it open slowly and peering around the room to see if you were anywhere close by.

The Weather Channel was on, but other than that, there was no sound coming from that room, or the house at all. It made his heart stop, did something actually happen to you? Did this person find some other point of entry? He quickly shut the door behind him and began looking around. He was scared to call out your name, fearful that if someone was still there they would definitely hurt you when they heard him. So he tiptoed, hoping that his shoes wouldn't be too loud against the hard wood floors, but at this point with the silence, everything seemed loud. Even the sound of his breathing seemed to be too loud in his ears.

When he was done checking over the main floor of the apartment he moved to the bedroom, wiggling the doorknob and finding that it had been locked. He knew that you were in there, whether you were alone or not was the main issue. He didn't want to wait to see if you would come open the door yourself, so he kicked it in. That's when he heard your loud scream from the closet. He rushed over and tried to pull the doors open, only to find that they too had been secured shut. "NO! Stay away from me! M-my boyfriend is a tiger! He'll kill you!" He could hear the desperation, the terror in your voice as you screamed. If you weren't so petrified, he might have possibly chuckled at your words, but now wasn't the time. He did take pride in the fact that you knew he would defend you, that he would always be there to keep you safe.

"It's me, angel. Please, open the door." His soft voice sounded heavenly to you. It was salvation, it was the voice of your savior. You quickly yanked the hanger away, and as soon as he knew he could get in he yanked the door open, dropping to the floor next to you and pulled you into his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Y/N. I wasn't here, I'm so so sorry."

You both were crying at this point. Your forehead rested against his chest as you let your tears fall into his lap. His arms stayed wound tightly around you, afraid that you would run if he let you go. His tears fell like rain into your hair, his head was hung low as guilt and sham overcame him. "You needed me and I wasn't here. I promise, from now on, I will make sure nothing like this ever happens again. You don't need to be afraid anymore, angel." He murmured as he planted a garden of kisses along the top of your head. "Everything will be okay, I promise."

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you're feeling a little better now. I hope I've fulfilled your request need and that you enjoy these scenarios. Please, don't hesitate to reach out to me if you need someone to talk to. <3

529 notes · View notes

whenimaunicorn · 4 years

Text

Playing House Part 10

Ubbe x Reader, Ivar x Reader. Modern Vikings college AU

Words: 3481. Short for me but I think these words pack a punch...

Content Tags: predator kink, voyeurism, roleplayed fear, roleplayed punishment, overstimulation

Catch up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

You had spent months wrapped up in delicious, heady anticipation, just wondering what these boys would be like in bed, or if you would ever even get there with either of them. Now it seems like the tables are turned; it’s Ivar and Ubbe that are obsessed, each of them tantalized and awakened in their own way to what you’ve brought into their lives: the opportunity to indulge every kinky fantasy and fucked-up thought they’ve ever had.

You say no to some things, of course. But your limits are so far from “normal” that you still manage to surprise and delight them with your amenability to trying just about anything. You’re here to serve. And the excitement of still not knowing what they’re going to want to do to your body next? That’s the most intoxicating feeling of all.

Classes start again for you and Ivar, meaning you probably have more important things to do than being the fuckdoll that keeps the apartment looking nice for her boys. But Ivar takes care of you here, too: a strict schedule is set, for study and play, so neither of you fall behind. That’s not to say that Ubbe doesn’t sometimes use you as a cockwarmer while you’re going through your flashcards, or that you don’t spend some evenings knotted up on the couch in comfortable bondage while you and Ivar finish your reading assignments. You find ways to get everyone’s competing needs met.

And Ubbe… Ubbe has discovered his own brand of kink.

“Hey y/n,” he says, catching your eye just as you’ve finished polishing up the kitchen. All he’s got to do is give you that look, and you know what’s about to happen. And he reads something in your eyes that signals you’re up for it, too. He winks. “Run.”

You launch yourself past him through the doorway of the kitchen. His hand almost catches at your hip, but you twist away from him just quickly enough, grinning at your triumph even though he probably only let you get by him so that he could enjoy the chase.

You get the couch between him and you, but realize that now you’re cornered. His teeth are bared like a savage as he follows each of your feints, left, right, left again. If you could get past him and down the hallway, you might be able to get to your room with enough time to lock him out.

You know, if you actually wanted to win.

You’re giggling; he’s growling. “When I catch you, y/n,” he threatens, “say goodbye to those panties.” You feint to the right, then rapidly to the left, but he doesn’t fall for it. “I’ll rip ‘em faster than Ivar can keep replacing them.”

You’ve stopped wearing anything other than skirts and dresses around the apartment. Between Ubbe’s constant roughhousing and Ivar’s penchant for sliding his hands up and up and up, you never want to have to pause the action long enough to shimmy out of anything so complicated as pants.

“You’re not getting away,” Ubbe informs you with a deep, predatory chuckle. Tiring of darting from side to side, he starts to climb directly over the couch at you.

That’s your chance, though. As soon as he’s off the ground you dart off to the left, ducking under his reaching arm and speeding over to the hallway that leads back to the bedrooms. You can hear his feet thudding behind you as he jumps down, but maybe you can make it . . . passing Ivar’s empty room, you duck into your own and fling yourself at the door, adrenaline making you giddy as you try and swing it around and shut it right in Ubbe’s face.

His arms scoop around your waist before you pull it even a few inches. “Gotcha,” he gloats, then lifts your feet up off the floor and tosses you at your bed.

Ever since that scuffle after he made you answer Ivar’s call, you had both realized Ubbe loved to feel you fighting him just as much as you loved struggling against him. And so now, whenever Ivar’s not home, you fear his return only about equally as much as you worry that the neighbors might call the cops on all the bangs and thumps they have to be hearing whenever you and Ubbe get into it. Hopefully they can hear that you laugh just as much as you scream.

You try to bounce off the mattress as soon as he flings you onto it, but again Ubbe is too fast for you. His wide hand centers on your chest and pushes you right back down, then holds you there as he gets his other hand up your skirt. “I don’t know why you even bother to keep wearing these,” he says, the exertion thinning out his voice as he gets his fist around the side of your panties and starts dragging them down.

When you arch your back and grind your ass into the bed to try and make his job more difficult, he slaps the side of your thigh and then tries again twice as hard.

You’ve chosen lace today, which you slightly regret as you feel the friction of the scratchy material digging into your skin. And so you relent, just a little, shimmying along with his efforts and letting him work your panties all the way off without any more snags. “So much easier when you cooperate,” Ubbe notes.

“But where’s the fun in that?” You scoot up like you’re trying to escape again.

His palm slams you down, pushing you into the pillows piled up at the top of your neatly-made bed. Well, it was neatly made. Ubbe’s rumpling it pretty thoroughly now. This time his hand is bridging your collarbone, pressure teasing your neck. It’s enough to make you go completely still, and drop your consciousness into sub-mode as you savor the dominance of the gesture.

With your guard finally down, Ubbe gets himself tucked nice and tight between your legs. He keeps that solid pressure going on your chest, though, while working to open up his pants.

He makes this noise when he’s close to sinking into you, when you’re fighting like this. It’s a growl but it’s somehow gleeful; a predator who knows he’s inches from getting his jaws around your throat. “You gonna keep fighting?” His teeth graze against the side of your neck. “Or are you gonna make this easier on yourself?’

You choose easier, licking your palm quickly so that when Ubbe drops his cock out of his pants you’re right there to slather some lube on it before he starts working his way into you. Ubbe groans at the feeling of your hand, then spits on his own fingers to return the favor in a hurried swipe across your entrance.

No foreplay in this game. The game is the foreplay. Ubbe has taken to eating you out afterwards, long and slow and luscious. Right now, it’s all about the rush.

You cry out as his blunt head catches a little before finding the right angle to sink in deeper. You all did the responsible thing and got STD tests not too long ago, and now you’re free to bareback it as much as you please. It’s easy to believe Ubbe’s promise to be monogamous for as long as you’re doing it like this. With how often he throws you down and fucks you around here, there’s no way that he’d have anything left for anyone else.

Ubbe’s cock has that kind of width that you never just ‘get used to.’ You’ve gotten better at taking it, as fast and hard as he wants it at times like this, but that first inexorable slide always makes your eyes pop a little. It takes up all your concentration to relax your body and let him stretch you.

Which is probably why you just missed something really important.

Ubbe’s about twenty thrusts in before you can get a hold of yourself enough to stop squealing, to relax the clutching grip of your hands around his shoulders and cross your ankles over the back of his bouncing hips, to get comfortable and open your eyes.

You look over Ubbe’s shoulder to see Ivar leering at you from the door.

It finally happened. He finally caught you. Adrenaline seizes your muscles up tight, locking your legs around Ubbe’s back and making him moan deeper while your own vocal chords freeze.

Ivar’s head wiggles as he leans his shoulder against the doorframe. A single finger comes up to his mouth, in that universal gesture for silence. Then his eyes leave yours to trail over the rest of your body, the sprawl of your thighs bouncing under Ubbe’s heaving back.

He settles in a little deeper, so he doesn’t need to hold himself up with both crutches. His finger leaves his lips and he palms down at his own crotch instead.

Ivar wants to watch.

Tingles burst out across your body as you incorporate the pleasure of Ubbe’s deep dicking with the self-conscious awareness of being on display for your other lover. Ivar can’t see much besides your legs and your eyes so he must—oh fuck—must be in this just to watch the reactions that play across your face.

“Make some noise for me, baby” Ubbe moans against your neck. “You’re so quiet.”

He lifts his head far enough to look at your face, and your eyes snap to his quick, before he thinks you were looking at anything over his shoulder. Ivar is a dark blob in your peripheral vision as you focus on the face of the man who’s fucking you right now. Not the one that’s sure to fuck you twice as thoroughly as soon as this is over.

You make a little sound for Ubbe, somewhere between a squeal and a moan. It’s really all you can produce under this sense of looming doom that might be smiling sadistically from the doorway at you right now.

Ubbe frowns. “I could barely hear that,” he mocks, then grins and adjusts his hips, pulling your thigh up higher around his back. “Guess I gotta hit it a little deeper.”

“Unf,” you cry, unable to hold back as he, true to his word, tries his best to rearrange your guts. You throw your head back and just ride it out, giving him those full-throated groans you know he’s looking for. As far as you can tell, Ivar’s looking for them too. If this is happening, then you might as well go all out with it.

If Ivar wants to stay and watch, then you can’t be in that much trouble. Just pretend trouble. Which is definitely the good kind.

The weight of Ivar’s eyes means about as much as his hands on your body ever could. He’s not even doing anything, and yet, he is absolutely a third lover in this room. The heat of that gaze makes your skin prickle, makes your cunt tighten around Ubbe’s cock and sets you moaning, then screaming through your teeth as you feel your orgasm building hot and thick and all for Ivar and those eyes.

“Fuck,” Ubbe growls, the desperate edge to his voice showing he’s on his edge too, “you feel so good. Can never get enough.”

You can’t, either. Not of either one of them. Ubbe’s pace increases, coming up to that home stretch before he empties himself inside you. And given the delicious, mad pressure building between your thighs, you just might come right along with him.

Ubbe buries his face in the crook of your neck with a long, guttural noise as he hammers out his final, ecstatic thrusts. You’re so close to peaking, too. So—close—just—a—few—more—

Ubbe’s thrusts are slowing but you’ve still got everything you need. You latch wide, desperate eyes on Ivar’s smirking face, using that dirty feeling of knowing you’re being watched, that he’s watching, to push yourself over the edge.

The look in Ivar’s eyes is dark, so dark, as he reaches to the side and, with a shit-eating grin, pushes firmly against the bedroom door. It hits the stopper against the wall with a loud, distinctive sound.

Ubbe freezes, recognizing that someone must have just come in. You make an odd sobbing noise as your impending orgasm melts away.

“I think that is enough.”

Ubbe leans his forehead against your shoulder, exhaling long and hard. With a slow tilt of his hips, he grinds himself deeper into you, one last stubborn farewell to the pussy. He brings his mouth up close enough to whisper in your ear. “Uh oh. You finally got caught.” As he pulls away, you see a new kind of eagerness on his sweaty face.

He always did want to know what your punishment was going to be.

“I will take it from here, Ubbe.”

There are times that Ubbe Lothbrok can be stubborn; an alpha male with his own plan and need to assert himself upon a situation. Right after he’s blown his load is not one of those times. He pulls himself out of you in one long, slow swipe and tucks his softening cock right back into his pants. His eyes flick over the disheveled sprawl of your body underneath him, a prideful smile curling his lip, and then he straightens up and off your bed. “She’s all yours.”

Ivar struts forward, head waggling as his crutches carry him swiftly to the edge of the bed. You close your legs modestly, but his hand clamps down on your thigh, holding you open for him. “I told you never to let me catch you.” The look on his face is positively wicked.

All you can do is whimper, still flushed and half-crazed with your need to come.

“And yet, you left the door open. Like you wanted me to see.” He starts smacking at your inner thighs, quick, precise little swats, holding your legs spread when you twitch and try to protect yourself reflexively. “Stay. Open.”

You can only imagine what Ivar is seeing, your naked pussy swollen, needy, and leaking cum. It’s almost unbearable. His smacks turn to flicks of his strong fingers as he moves closer in toward your center, alternating sides and just watching you force yourself to keep your legs open.

Then comes the slap you had been anticipating, right on your clit. You cry out, surprised how much you like the feeling. Maybe it’s only because you were just on the brink, but after the sharp pain recedes a fresh rush of arousal suffuses you and you sob. “Ivar, please.”

He pauses. “Please, what?”

“Please let me come.”

He raises one heavy brow. “That’s all you can say? Unrepentant to the end, I see. Well then, dirty girl, if that’s what you want your punishment to be…” His hand covers your mound, thumb finding your needy clit. He rubs one single, glorious circle, then stops. His head swivels. “Ubbe. Did you think you get to watch? Out.”

* * *

You’re going to pass out. Mercy, please, there’s no way that you can handle another orgasm. Ivar’s got your muscles clenching, the sheets soaked, your legs trapped around his body and your pussy stuffed with the third vibrator he’s decided to try. He’s even got another one vibrating right against your asshole, just to give you ideas about other sins he might have in store for you. Pleasure runs like a raging river, unrelenting. Every time you try to catch your gasping breath, Ivar raises the flood.

“Come on, greedy girl,” Ivar coaxes, his voice husky after all the effort he’s spent working you over. “Surely you can’t quit before orgasm number eight.” He changes something down there and all you can do is wail like an animal as he somehow makes you feel more full than ever. And then his finger returns to your clit. He’s just about got this down to a science, after so many experimental trials here in your darkened bedroom. Fuck you with the toy, change the vibration every few minutes so your body can’t get used to it, tease your asshole and press down on your clit juuuuust so.

It’s starting to feel like he knows the angles your body likes better than you do. He’s turned your clitoris against you, co-opting that magic button into something he can press on his whim to make you explode in another spine-shaking climax. This time, you come so hard you see spots blooming in front of your vision.

Something must have changed in your voice as that last one crashed over you. This time, Ivar does not immediately start re-tuning the machine, gearing your body up to start the cycle all over again for number nine. Instead his hand falls steady and warm, covering your shuddering sex with a reassuring stillness as he leans in over you. His voice is low as he comes close enough for you to meet his drowning eyes in the dark. “Mercy?”

“Mercy.” You can barely say it. You barely have a voice left after all the ecstatic screams he’s forced across your throat.

Ivar makes a soothing sound, one that rings in your ears like the most beautiful, reassuring thing you’ve ever heard. He’s letting it end. You made it all the way through; you didn’t have to stop him. You lasted until he offered. That had been the goal your submissive soul clung to as he took your body through just about every pleasure it could handle. He reaches down to click off the vibrations. You sigh as he slips the last toy out of your body. “You did so good for me.”

He covers your pussy with his hand again. It feels immensely comforting, stillness and steady reassurance after all that thrusting and vibration. You let all the remaining tension drain out against his palm as you close your eyes and let yourself come slowly back to something approximating reality.

The next thing you’re aware of is Ivar coaxing your head up higher on the pillows. “Drink,” he says softly, putting a water bottle in your hands and guiding it up to your lips. “I wrung you out pretty good.”

The water is cool and extremely welcome. You want to make a joke about how little moisture you must have left in your body, after all that, but slaking your thirst is so much more important.

Rolling your blanket around you, Ivar lays down to cuddle beside your exhausted body after taking the water bottle away. You never would have guessed, before all this, what an avid snuggler Ivar Lothbrok is. He seems to crave your body against his own, after these intense sessions. He pulls you in tight against him. “We could take a shower, if you want,” he offers.

“I don’t think I can move.”

His chuckle is indulgent. “Fair enough.” He snuggles his cheek in a little closer. “Let me know if you need anything.”

So. He’s not fucking you today, either. Not that this even feels like the right time for your first time…it’s just something that’s been on your mind. Maybe it makes you old-fashioned, but it just feels like he hasn’t fully claimed you yet. Part of you kind of thought that once he caught you with Ubbe, that might have been what he was waiting for, to make you absolutely his. But this doesn’t feel like a turning point at all. Nothing he had said indicated that he did not like seeing you that way, or that he expected you to stop fucking Ubbe now. It’s always just been another game.

Which suits you just fine. You wonder if you will ever have a chance of getting bored in this apartment.

Your meandering thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Ivar’s phone, a quick, chirping notification.

He shifts lazily to check it when it chirps a second time. A short bark of a laugh rumbles out of him a moment later.

“What?”

Ivar rolls back to show you his screen. The text message is from Hvitserk, who you know to be another one of his brothers.

Be in town tomorrow

gonna crash in Sigurd’s room

“Looks like someone else wants in your bed,” Ivar croons at you.

You know that Hvitserk just doesn’t know that the apartment has acquired a new roommate, but you get a funny feeling deep inside your overstimulated body, anyway.

“Maybe I should tie you up naked tomorrow,” Ivar continues, voice low and teasing as he nips at your ear. “Leave you right here as a gift for him to find when he arrives. Haven’t seen him in a while, I’m sure I missed a birthday somewhere in there.” He grins at whatever he sees in your face. “If you need another lesson about what greedy girls get.” His finger taps you affectionately, right on the nose.

Next Chapter

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#ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #ubbe/reader/ivar #ubbe/you #ivar/you #playing house fic

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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

Text

Full Court Press (NBA!Kylo Ren x Reader)

A collaborative fic by @weareallstoriesintheend & @saynotoshityouhate

AU Inspo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdpBEY21/

Words: 1329

Summary: Your boss is making you take clients to a professional basketball game - not your ideal use of a Friday night. That is, until something caught your eye.

Warnings: Just some spicy thoughts! The spice comes in part two!

PART 2