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sneezingfetishftw-wavs · 1 month

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I made a wav of chapter 1 of my Vox sickfic! This doesn't include the narration: fic linked here or you can keep reading for the fic copied under the cut. I added a slight robot voice effect to the sneezes and coughs, plus there's the sound of Vox's fans (which is the real sound of my laptop fan lmao) - let me know if you'd like to hear a version without these effects.

If there's enough interest I might do more chapters. The main limitation is I don't sneeze a lot even with inducing - these sneezes are compiled from like 5 different sessions smh. (So if a wav where I don't actually include the sneezes, or I reuse sneeze audio I've used before, is of interest to you then definitely let me know cause doing the voices is fun)

“Why are the lights so fucking bright in here? Are you trying to give me a headache?” Vox was often a bit of an insufferable prick, but today he was far worse than usual. His interview for Voxtech Angelic Security was just an hour away and he’d already managed to insult pretty much everyone in the room. The lights dimmed, he returned to a previous complaint. “And why haven’t you turned the AC colder already? It’s like a sauna in here!”

“The AC is already as cold as it goes, sir.”

“Then fix it! God, what am I even paying you for?” He paused, then pulled out his cell phone. “Hey Val, are you free right now? I got an employee I’d like you to knock some sense into—or rip the limbs off of, whichever you prefer. I could do it myself, but I know how much you enjoy that thing.”The employee shuddered. “Great, thanks! See you soon.”

Vox looked around. “Where is my water bottle? There should be one on the interviewing desk. Is anyone around here doing their goddamn job?” Another employee rushed over with a water bottle. “Finally.” He took a sip and immediately grimaced. “Where did you get this? Normal water doesn’t scrape my throat like that! Disgusting.” He threw the water bottle aside, pausing only to make sure the lid was on first.

He took a deep breath, which immediately triggered a coughing fit, his voice crackling like a broken speaker. His screen went grey and fuzzy, static flaring with each cough. “Who did the last maintenance on the filtration system?” A sheepish woman stepped forward. “Fix it! Actually, no. Get out. You’re fired. The air is so thick in here I can hardly breathe.” She hung her head and wandered off. It wasn’t like she was the first to be fired on a whim, and at least Vox didn’t literally tear people apart. “I’ll take a look at it along with the AC, then, sir,” the employee from earlier offered.

“You’d better. But don’t think that’s enough to save you,” Vox said, standing so close the employee could hardly hear anything over the fan. “Val’s still on his way.” The employee gulped.

Valentino began shivering the moment he stepped in the door, but he ignored that and made a beeline for Vox. “Where’s the victim?” he asked with a grin.

Vox pointed to the man cowering in the corner. “He won’t fix the AC.” Val nodded, still shivering. “He says it’s already as cold as it can go, but I’m boiling here!” Val raised an eyebrow at that. A loud whirring started as Vox’s fans kicked in.

Val put a hand on Vox’s forehead, and jerked it away almost immediately. “Amorcito, you’re incredibly hot!”

“Save it for later, Val,” Vox chuckled.

“No, I mean it’s hard to believe how much you’re overheating. And in a freezing room, no less. I thought my hand was going to burn!” Vox crossed his arms and shook his head. “I mean it, Vox, you’re obviously running a fever!”

“Shut up. I’m fi… hi…” his screen flickered with each hitch. “Hi’tzzzcht! Fine.”

“Sir?” The employee raised a finger tentatively, regaining some boldness now that neither of them was ripping him apart. “One of the lights just broke.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me? Just fix it! Ugh, it’s a wonder anything gets done around here.” He gave a long sniff, trying to stave off the buzzing tickle. “And send a cleaning crew in. It’s way too du… huh… huh… hut’TZZZZSHT! Dusty in here.”

“We just cleaned yesterday…” the employee said weakly, trying not to look at the speaker that had just popped.

“I didn’t ask you when the last cleaning was, I asked you to clean the damn studio! Now get on with it before I change my mind and let Val rip your arms off.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The employee practically ran off to begin his tasks as Val gave a toothy grin, looking menacing despite the intense shivering.

“There you go. I’ll be back here for the sound check. And this place better be fucking spotless.”

Vox and Val walked out the door. “I’ll catch you at the penthouse,” Vox said, activating his teleportation powers. He only made it a few feet. “Hhh’dzzzzcht!” The hallway lights flickered.

“How about we walk together?” Val offered, wrapping his arm around Vox. Vox sighed, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. Repeatedly teleporting a few feet at a time sounded even more annoying than walking. While they walked, Val pulled out his phone with his free hand to text Velvette. “Meet at the penthouse ASAP.”

Velvette almost dropped her phone when she saw the pair of them walk through the door. “Walk” was actually a bit of an overstatement. Vox was practically staggering, leaning heavily on Val for support. His screen was dimmed, except for a bright spot in the center where his nose would be, if he had one. His fans were still whirring loudly. His normally immaculate suit was wrinkled, as if he’d crumpled in on himself repeatedly. The man was, quite obviously, a mess.

Velvette stared in silence for a moment. “Wow. He really does look awful, doesn’t he?”

Vox glared. “I’m fine. I’m just taking a quick break before the studio’s ready for my interview. Those morons still have a lot to set up.” The pair stared at him.

“Um, Vox? You sure now is the best time for an interview?” Velvette asked.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his hypnotic eye swirling so slowly it might as well be a broken Ferris wheel.

“Right,” Velvette said, rolling her eyes as Vox’s screen flickered again. “Totally fine, and definitely not about to sneeze.”

“I’m not going to… hih’tzzzzch!” He opened his mouth to protest more, but no sound came out. Damn it, were his audio drivers glitching too? Or was it just his vocal cords? He smacked the side of his head with a grimace. “The interview has to be today. If I delay it, it’ll look like we’re hiding something.” Thank god that worked. Vox without his voice was… well, he really didn’t want to think about that.

Velvette raised an eyebrow. “You literally just smacked yourself in the head cause you couldn’t talk. You really think you’re in a good state to be giving an interview?”

Vox’s screen brightened for a moment. “I’m fine! It’s fixed now.” His screen dimmed again, then started flickering. “I’m perfectly heal… heh… hhh… healthy! Just let me go to the godda… ehh… ahh… hah’TZZZZSHT! The goddamn interview.” Valentino’s phone instantly shut off. Velvette, seeing this, clutched her phone tightly to her chest.

Val tried turning his phone back on, but it was unresponsive. “You broke my phone, Vox. You broke my fucking phone! What else are you gonna break if you go back in there?”

Vox frowned. Loath as he was to admit illness, it really was in his best interest to minimize property damage. Especially with a live audience.

“I’ll do the interview,” Velvette offered.

Vox gave a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit, his screen a sputtering mess of static again. “No offense, Velvette, but I’m pretty sure you’re not familiar with the ins and outs of the system.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not recognizing you don’t have a lot of options. Would you rather send Valentino?”

The other two recoiled at the suggestion. “God, no!” Vox replied. “Ugh, I guess if you really want to, go knock yourself out. My notes are on that tah… hhh… ahh… hah… hah’TDZZZCHT! Tablet.” Said tablet was now stuck in bluescreen. “Shit.” He rubbed his aching head, trying to think.

“Are the notes backed up like the rest of your files?” Vox nodded, not even trying to speak this time. “I can pull it up on my phone, then. I’ve got this. Backbone of the Vees, remember? You just stay here and get some rest,” she said, blowing a kiss as she left.

Velvette strutted out the door, taking with her the responsibility that had been keeping Vox together, and it was like a switch had been flipped. Vox immediately plopped himself down on the couch, limbs dangling limply. “Everything huuuurts, Val.”

“I know, Amorcito, that’s why I’m here.” He gently stroked Vox’s arm. “Now, is it really everything? Or can you be a bit more specific so I can actually help you?”

Vox’s mouth moved, but no words. A frown. A throat clearing sound. More mouth movement, still no words. A deeper frown. A self-inflicted smack on the side of the head. Still no words. The fans kicked into high gear as Vox was about to spit steam out of his head.

“Shh, gentle, Voxy. Let’s try not to blow out the power grid again, hm?” Val patted Vox’s screen. “I’ll get you something for your throat.” He searched through the fridge for some Gatorade. Electrolytes had to do something for an electric being, right? In the absence of any speech from Vox, the fans were even more noticeable. Better grab a cold compress from the freezer too, then. He placed the cold pack on Vox’s screen and handed him the bottle. Vox took a sip and shook his head. His voice still failing him, Vox made images appear on the screen. Val blinked, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

“Something wrong with the drink?” A nod. “Tastes bad?” Head shake. Val tried to think what could possibly be wrong with a drink. “Too liquidy?” Vox rolled his eyes. “Wrong color?” A facepalm. “Uh… too cold?” Vigorous nodding, and then a wince and a dizzy expression. “I got it. Just rest here, Vox. I’ll find you something.”

Val returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug of tea. Vox’s screen was dim and pale, the colors washed out. His weak fingers could barely grasp the handle of the mug. “Oh, Voxy, you poor thing,” Val said, his wings wrapping around Vox for support. The steam from the drink got into Vox’s vents and his screen started flickering. Val noticed immediately and set the mug on a nearby table, holding Vox through the buildup.

“Hhh… hhhh… hhh… hhht’dzchhht! Hhhh’zzzzch! Hhh’ZZZZZSHT! Htchh’RRRRGZZZZZZT! Ugh.” The demon clawed at his throat, then paused in realization. “Fucking hell that hurt!” He winced. “Talking hurts.” Still, better to have a functioning voice, he supposed. He gestured to the mug, and Valentino handed it to him. He took a sip, grimaced, and then finished the rest of the mug in one gulp. Val surveyed the room and realized that a few of the TV screens were out. “Let’s get you into bed, hm?” Vox raised an eyebrow. “Not like that! Unless you want to, of course…” he added, licking his lips. Vox shook his head, exhausted. Val led Vox to the bedroom, the TV clinging hard to the moth as he took a few shaky steps. Val paused, then nodded to himself. He hoisted Vox over his shoulder, ignoring the spluttering protests. “Amorcito, you can barely walk. Let me carry you for a bit.”

Vox huffed, and Val felt the static shock. “You could at least have the decency to carry me like your partner instead of, I don’t know, a corpse?”

Val chuckled. “Have you seen yourself, darling? You practically are a corpse at this point.” Still, he switched to bridal carry.

After what felt like an eternity, dragged out by Vox’s complaining that he was on death’s door, they finally reached the bed. Val laid Vox down and sat next to him. “Now then, does everything still hurt? What can I get you?”Vox’s lips moved silently, then rapidly into what Val assumed to be a string of curse words. Hard to tell without audio. Val sighed. “You really are feeling awful, aren’t you?” Vox nodded. Val stared at Vox for a while until the moth’s singular brain cell finally came up with an idea. He blew a puff of smoke in Vox’s face. Vox flinched, and his screen flickered rapidly. “Hhh… hih… hhhh’dzzzzzzcht! Hih’tzzzzsh! Hah’TZZZZZCHT! TZZZSH! Tzzzsch’TZZZZZST’dzTZZZZZSSHHT! What the fuck, Val?” He rubbed his throat. “Oh. Uh… thanks, I guess? I don’t know. That fucking sucked.”

“If you’d rather not repeat that, then I suggest you get your words out now before you lose your voice again.”

Vox scowled, but he knew it was a valid point. “I just… I’m sore all over. It’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this?” Val raised a finger. “Besides everything that got me into hell.” Val shrugged. “Ugh… my throat hurts, my head hurts, all my muscles ache, there’s this constant buzzing in the back of my head that won’t go away, everythig is blisterigly warmb whatever I try… oh for fugck’s sake, I get congestiod dnow too? Ughhhh…” He groaned and rolled over, faceplanting into the bed.

Val tutted sympathetically. “You never do anything half-assed, do you?” Vox nodded, dragging his screen across the blanket. “Vox, if you’re feeling so warm, why are you still wearing all those clothes?” A pause. Vox wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “There’s no image you need to keep up right now, Vox. Let’s get you comfortable.” Vox sat up and let Val get to work. The crumpled suit was set on a nearby chair. The sweater and shirt were pulled off and tossed to the same chair, Vox dropping his arms instantly the moment he no longer needed to put in the energy to keep them up. The shoes were removed and the pants taken off and folded up with care. As soon as it was done, Vox collapsed face down into the bed again, breathing heavily from the effort.

“You said you’re sore all over, would you like a massage, Amorcito?” A thumbs up. Val got up to find the massage bar. They’d found that using a more solid form helped avoid any accidents… they did NOT need a repeat of the time poor Vox got massage oil stuck in his vents. Val began massaging Vox’s arms, but paused when he felt Vox’s shoulders shudder.

“Hhhh’dzzzzzzchmp!” The sound was muffled into the bed. Vox slowly dragged himself up until he was facing Val. “Hit’chZZZZZZZCHT!” Sparks flew from Vox’s screen and landed on Val’s arm.

“Keep your sparks to yourself, Vox!” he said, wincing at the static shock. “Hmm… that might explain the electronics failures…”

“Sorry, Val.” He said, rubbing his screen. “Wasd’t expectig it to comb that fast.” He gave a long sniff. “Hhhhh’dZZZZZZT!” He pointed at the massage bar. “Can you put that away? I think the scent is too strong right now, my sensors must be acting up.”

Val switched to an unscented massage bar and resumed the massage. A few soft moans from Vox let Val know that his attempts were effective. Eventually the sound dropped off entirely, except for the occasional sneeze, which Val assumed meant the video demon’s voice had given out again. After a while, there was no sound at all except for congested breathing. Val gently turned Vox on his back, revealing closed eyes. Val breathed a sigh of relief. The man was much less exhausting when he was unconscious. Maybe now both of them could get some rest.

#snezbin hotel #my wav #scenario snez

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mypromptlair · 2 years

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TCF Prompt 20

TBOAH AU - Regressions

Although Choi Han was able to gravely injure the White Star, he escaped the great battle that took the life of Cale Henituse. All those that remain are left in despair. Because even though Cale was known for being 'trash' throughout his life, his true attitude and voice in the end helped them in moving forward and being able to keep going during this horrible war(whether he realized it or not).

In the end, its not Cale who regresses, but his old comrades. Not only hoping to change the outlook of the war with the White Star, but perhaps saving an old dear friend, not only from a certain villain, but from himself as well.

Meanwhile, an 18 year old Cale Henituse is quite confused as to why this man from Harris Village is so set on being his guard. More importantly...why the fuck did Ron hug him this morning? And Hans is sticking to him like glue? Not seeming afraid of him at all(and was he glaring at the staff calling him trash?). Not to mention that damn crown prince inviting him personally to the capital instead of his brother! ugh. So many plans going drown the drain...but at least these kittens(kids) from the slums are cute. Hmm...maybe its not so bad...

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Choi Han, The Molans, Rosalyn, Lock, Alberu, On, Amiru, Gilbert, Eric and Hans are the ones who regress.

OG!Cale doesn't fully regress, but he does end up having snippets of certain events(nightmares that give him headaches, etc)

OG!Cale does get all the ancient powers, including his mothers

GoD does bring KRS partly as an ancient power given to Cale(as Record, etc), and then sent off to help LSH and CJS with GoD things.

They all eventually end up meeting up to help each other, but that's a long ways yet.

On grabs Hong and goes to Cale asap cause she knows he will take them in.

Raon is saved and taken in of course. He doesn't fully remember, but like Cale he has nightmares of what could have been. Something they bond over.

Everyone is super protective and Cale is just: ????

Henituse family is confused as well, but Deruth allows it cause they make his son happy(and then they find out Cale was being trash on purpose and are not pleased. Apologies and much needed talks on both sides are given).

It takes a while(he's been acting for 10 years without a moments rest after all) but Cale allows himself to be well...himself again.

While not KRS, Cale is still an oblivious, sacrificial, unlucky bastard(thank you Eruhaben).

War ends in 2 years instead of 20. Much to the joy of everyone(Cale is kinda happy, but not, he did NOT want to be a Commander dammit! stupid hyu-...crown prince!)

Redika is killed at the plaza after trying to go after Cale

Clopeh is also killed at Henituse territory

Some events are the same as TCF, but OG!crew aren't KRS and bulldoze their way through events rather than scheme/scam lmao. It gets worse after Cale gets hurt, coughs up blood, etc.

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0l0x · 1 year

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Skyler managed to get that part back on last night, so we don't have to buy a new toilet after all! It works even better than before now. I'm SO glad omg. Good thing the RV store was closed yesterday or we would have bought it already. God forced us to wait overnight and use our heads. Everything happens for a reason I guess.

Someone jimmy-rigged us into this situation and we jimmy-rigged our way out of it lmao

The bad news is: our water pressure regulator is leaking, so we have to buy a new one. But that isn’t really news, it’s been leaking since we bought the fucking thing almost a year ago, it’s just worse now.

We’re going to cough up 30 bucks for a temporary replacement, which should last at least 6 months to a year. And some time before it craps out, we’ll spend the 100-200 bucks for a proper one. We just don’t have the money for a good one right now.

(Normally a cheapo RV regulator would work if our water came from a hose, but we installed permanent PEX plumbing to the RV, so we need a more expensive house-rated one now.)

11-14-2022

#renovation

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unofficialadamtaurus · 2 years

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SORRY BUT review pt 2 because i CANT drop this chapter and I NEED to scream about the parts I can’t stop thinking about. hollow people is currently living in my head rent free homie and i freak the fuck out every time if i even THINK ABOUT THINKING about this chapter

god gOD GOD the way you sell adams spiral is just so painful. he doesn’t want to feel this way, so helpless and afraid and hurt as his worldview continually shatters right in front of him. it’s just siwnwoahnsndowjbskxu

also Blake’s hands hanging by thread made me SEVERELY uncomfortable. (in a good way!!) like. FUCKING OW.

> "I did love you, Adam."

>He paused. Glanced at her. "Your love was a lie."

LIKE he really truly believes that in that moment and it’s just DUMBASS PLEASE STOP.

> Was he just afraid?

> But he was so angry.

> Killing Blake was supposed to set things right. It was supposed to erase the cracks spiraling through his foundations. It was supposed to fix him. How could this be wrong? How could it—no. Why was it just making things worse?

duuUUUUDDDE my heart HURTS reading his anger and confusion. fuck I can FEEL it. that burning sensation and spiraling mind and frustration and its just. no words. no fucking words

> Good gods, he was unwell.

BITCH i be saying that this WHOLE DAMN TIME. YES YOU ARE VERY UNWELL.

> Something that, for years, everyone had left to fight its fear alone.

AGHHGGAHHHHHHH GOD that just STINGS

> She drew in a breath—

> And the ceiling caved in.

JESUS FUCK you are NOT forgiven for that. FUCKING HELL IT WAS SOWNSNALZWONAIS DJW

> "No, Yang," she strangled the urge to cough again, "you need to stop. I was getting through to him."

> "Blake. He was going to kill you."

LMAOOO honestly take a shot every time yang tells her stubborn as fuck gf to stop heading into situations that’ll kill her. or at least stop being blind to the goddamn high ass probability????? legit you’ll get alcohol poisoning.

and that little ruby vs Adam bit??? i LOVE how you write rubys combat. it’s so fluid

> Adam took most on Wilt and pushed against the last with a fierce grin and his hair aglow. She froze, terror she couldn't control locking her muscles and preventing her from dodging.

FUCKING CALL BACK FUCK YEAH

> Blood dripped from the new wound on his forehead.

serious moment but bloody Adam?? thank you 😋

and blake apologizing to him and he just can’t believe it DAMN IT that hurts. AHGH GOD those two.

Also homie DO NOT thank me for screaming at you about your fic because IT IS A PRIVILEGE TO READ. seriously this is absolutely amazing thank you.

(im too much of a dumbass to pick up the heavy foreshadowing you’re blatantly putting down IM SORRRYYYYYY)

cannot believe you just and hit me with a part two lmao and I will thank you as much as I damn well please. I get so few reviews that I cherish the ones you send in 😊

I'm so glad that your reaction to everything Adam did in this chapter was along the lines of, "You absolute idiot, please stop." Like we can all see that he's about as lost as a person can be but all he can see is the purpose he's so desperately clinging to. It takes Blake putting her whole life on the line solely to refuse him - not to win the fight, but to say he's wrong - for him to realize it.

And yeah, Blake's injuries are a bit graphic if you bother to imagine them. But if Weiss can be de-impaled, then Blake will probably be fine. Probably.

#anon #unofficial adam answers #hollow people spoilers #adam taurus #blake belladonna #hollow people #happy tag #long post #hollow people reviews

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itsnsfwalways · 3 years

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Edge Of My Seat

warnings: female reader, mean dom! mgg, degradation (like.... really intense humiliation and ownership talk), slight daddy kink, exhibitionism, overstimulation, choking, squirting, deep subspace, branding (oops), fluffy aftercare (quite a bit of tears oops again)...... i think that’s everything. good luck.

prompt from the lovely @slutforthegubes / @spencersbed (literally one of my favs): i was thinking maybe a fic where you and him are out with the cast but you keep teasing him. when he almost cums his pants is when he decides enough is enough. he makes up an excuse for y’all to leave. the whole car ride home he edges you. once y’all get him he takes you over his knee and spanks you. after he deems fit, he overstimulates you and makes you beg for him to fuck you. when he does finally fuck he absolutely rails you. afterwards he gives you aftercare. he puts lotion on any marks, cleans you up, cuddles you and makes sure you are okay.

A/N: the fact that this has taken me a month to write..... i’m so sorry bre LMAO. i hope you enjoy and that it hits all the right spots !

See, it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you were riled up. Matthew didn’t touch you once this morning, besides a few kisses and your morning cuddles, of course, but no funny business whatsoever! You knew that you were meeting the crew for lunch later today, and made it your mission today to show him what he’s missing.

“Come on, baby, right here,” he whispers to you, touching your waist as if you were a flower ready to break while he guides you into the table, sitting next to you and immediately putting a hand on your thigh, unable to go a few minutes without any physical contact.

A whimper almost escapes your throat at the touch, so worked up over, what, not getting off before noon? God, who have you turned into? Shaking your head from side to side to clear your thoughts, you turn your attention over to Matthew, who’s already ordering you two drinks, his left hand moving in the air as he speaks to the waitress while his right thumb continues to rub small circles into your thigh. Your eyes zero in on his gorgeous hands, because, wow. His long, skillful fingers didn’t even have to be near you and you turned into a sex-deprived slut around him, only wanting one thing.

You turn your body more towards Matthew, sliding your hand under his shirt to rub his back while your other sneaks around the front, softly tracing over his stomach. He hums, glancing over to you before squeezing your thigh, thinking you just wanted some affection right now, but his eyes harden when he feels you trace his happy trail, just barely touching the skin but it’s enough to make him inhale sharply, covering it up with a cough.

“What are you doing?” Matthew lowly asks, his nails beginning to dig into your thigh, sending goosebumps down your arms in excitement. You shrug, slowly bringing a finger down to trace across his hip, going across his inner thigh to ghost across his growing bulge. You do your best to cover up the smirk crawling on your face but you catch Adam’s eye when you look away, blushing when he says loudly, “Hey! What kinda funny business are you two doing?”

“You wish, Rodriguez,” you laugh, placing your hand on top of Matthew’s bulge and looking back to him, raising your eyebrows to see if he’s okay with it. And of course he is, but you were breaking the rules, and you knew he was going to make you pay for it when you got back. Perfect.

Palming him slowly, you watch as he stutters his way through ordering for the both of you, knowing you’ll be able to see the indents from his fingernails for at least a day with how hard he’s gripping you. You hand your menu over to him with a completely innocent look on your face, and can feel him twitch underneath you when he takes it with clenched teeth, handing it over to the waitress with a tight, “thanks.” Sweeping a hand through his hair, he moves his eyes over to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Better stop now, little girl. You’re already in for a punishment for being such a greedy mess while I’m trying to enjoy lunch, don’t want to make it worse by continuing it, hmm?” When he pulls back, you bite your lip to attempt to contain your smile as you shake your head slowly back and forth, beginning to unzip his pants extremely slowly, not breaking eye contact with him. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he stares down at you, not being able to smack your inner thigh because he was literally right across from his friends, and more importantly, his coworkers.

He lets go of your leg finally, grabbing his glass and gripping it with more force than necessary, his blood boiling at the sheer disobedience you were showing him. Deciding the best option for him would be to ignore you, he begins talking to AJ about something random, you honestly could care less, but decide two can play at this game. Tracing him through his underwear, his cock very distinguishable, you turn your attention to Paget, noticing Matthew’s eyes flit to yours when you begin speaking.

“Thank you for those flowers you sent us the other day, I meant to have him tell you,” gesturing to Matthew, squeezing him harshly through the fabric at the same time, “They were gorgeous, have them as our kitchen centerpiece now.” Paget laughs with you, taking a sip from her glass.

“Of course! I’m glad you like them. It feels like forever since I’ve seen your pretty face, your man likes to hide you quite a bit you know,” she points, squinting her eyes at Matthew, who just shrugs, looking briefly over at you. “You need to bring her out to hang with us more, I’m getting bored of just you.”

You laugh out loud at this, but catch yourself before you can really start digging your own grave. You watch him roll his eyes, fake laughing which sends Paget into another fit of giggles, while you just continue to pet him through his clothes, not stopping as the food is dropped off in front of you, Matthew sending the waitress a tight lipped smile as he shoves a bite of food in his mouth, giving him an excuse to groan deeply, the sound going straight to your clit. He refuses to make eye contact with you as he mumbles out, “This food is so good,” not even acknowledging your hand on top of him. Alright, fine.

Your hand finally wraps around his cock, pulling him out of his underwear and watching with a small grin as his lips part and he takes a slow breath out while staring down at his food. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you take it as a sign to begin slowly pumping up and down, taking your time to swipe your thumb across his tip everytime you reach the top. One hand snaps down to meet your thigh under the tablecloth, squeezing hard enough that his fingertips go white from the pressure, while the other moves down his face to hide his mouth, eyes darting across the table.

“Hey, Matthew, did you ever get that script I sent over your way? What did you think of it?” Paget asks, both yours and Matthew’s heads snapping her direction. You turn back to look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief as you put a fake innocent look on your face.

“Oh? I never heard about a script, what’s it about, babe?” You ask sweetly, biting your tongue between your teeth to keep from laughing at his reaction when you squeeze the base of him and he jumps up. His eyes flash dangerously towards you and you feel his nails dig into your thigh before he clears his throat to answer.

“Yeah, I-I did look it over, the Horse Girl one, yeah?” Matthew stutters, turning his head back to Paget and running a hand through his hair. She nods and you make eye contact with her, winking before moving your attention back to Matthew, who, unsurprisingly, refused to look back at you.

“I think it might be a good... a good fit,” he pauses in between his words, eyes slipping shut for only a moment, which fed your ego nicely. “Should be easy to just be an idol of someone, plus my only ‘big’ scene would be having sex with her, so,” he shrugs, picking up his glass to take a swig as your hand stops its movements. Paget’s eyes meet yours and you can tell she’s just as confused as you are by his statement.

“Alright, player, not in front of your lady,” Shemar laughs, gesturing to you and sending Matthew a questioning look. You turn your head back to him and begin pumping him again, much faster this time.

“Ouch,” you say plainly, swiping your thumb over his tip to collect some of the precum gathered there. Slowly bringing it back to your lips, you nonchalantly suck it into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as Matthew’s hips buck up into the air. His lips part, eyebrows raising as he grows even harder, watching your wet thumb slide out of your mouth seductively. His jaw tightens, a vein popping out in his neck when he brings his arm around you, pulling you closer next to him and making it look as if he’s kissing your head to apologize. His tight voice sends shivers down your spine when he whispers,

“If you don’t stop right fucking now, Y/N, I swear to god, I’m going to bruise you purple.”

Pulling away, he watches through clenched teeth as you return your hand to his cock, leaning up to ‘kiss his jaw’, but really muttering, “That a promise or a threat, sir?”, squeezing hard around his base. Your other hand moves to go underneath his shirt, scratching your nails down his back.

Matthew let’s out a harsh cough at that, licking his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, and biting, his hand slipping to your waist to pinch the skin there. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you move your attention to your food as you begin to pump your hand faster, trying as hard as you can not to move your shoulder and give the two of you away.

Matthew grips onto your side harshly, squeezing the extra pudge on your body in his hands so roughly you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow. His spine was tingling, with pleasure, anger, frustration, and frankly, complete shock. He knew you were far from innocent, but exhibition was normally his thing.

Feeling him beginning to pulse in your hand, you start to speed up your hand once more before it’s completely ripped away from his lap, and you watch with a smirk as he stuffs himself back inside his pants, the veins in his shaking hands prominent from how tightly he’s had them in fists or grabbing you.

“Guys, I’m so sorry, there’s an emergency at home that Y/N and I have to go take care of, I hate to leave but we need to go, now,” Matthew stands up, taking your jacket off your seat and directing his last words towards you, nostrils flared in anger as he manages to keep a smile in his face. You try to suppress your grin as you stand up, waving goodbye to everyone quickly as Matthew grabs your wrist and pulls you away.

“Sorry guys, someone’s a little frustrated today,” you call out to them, your laugh being cut short by a sharp gasp when Matthew digs his nails into the inside of your wrist. He definitely shouldn’t be playing with you like this in public but, fuck, you always had to cross the line didn’t you. As soon as you’re out of everyone’s vision, he places a strong hand on the back of your neck, similarly to how you’d pick up a kitten by their scruff.

“You are so fucking lucky we are in public and with my goddamn friends right now or you would be bent over that table in two seconds. Who the fuck do you think you are, almost making me cum where you could be photographed and the whole world would know my girl is a fucking misbehaving cockslut. How embarrassing would that be for me?” You suck in a sharp breath of air at his words, barely registering you’ve made it to the car before he’s ushering you inside, shutting the door behind you and making his way to the drivers seat. Buckling your seatbelt slowly, you begin to rethink everything you did tonight, maybe you went a bit too far. Trying to gain any brownie points, you whisper out, “I’m sorry, sir,” but this just sets him off even more.

His fingers tighten against the wheel as he pulls out of the parking spot, refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is, he was so fucking close and one move could have him cumming in his pants. But he decides to have a little fun with you instead, after all, you were still being a naughty little girl just asking to be punished. His hand reaches down to grip your inner thigh, fingers pressing into the skin harshly, light scratches coming from his nails digging into your skin. “I think you’re sorry you didn’t get to see me finish, but my good girl would never do something like that, you know who would though?” He pauses to smack your thigh once, quickly, before massaging the reddened area afterwards. You clear your throat before muttering out, a soft, “who?”

“A filthy whore would. But you’re not a filthy whore, are you? Are you, Y/N?” He pushes, smacking your inner thigh once more. You try to clench your legs together but Matthew pulls them apart quickly, gasping when his nimble fingers tug your thong down your legs, lifting your butt up to allow him to slide it off of you. He bunches the fabric up in his hands, and you can’t even start to answer his question before the lacy underwear is pushed into your mouth. He finally looks over at you, your wide eyes staring back at him while you force your hands to stay at your sides, feeling the way his fingers trace shapes along your thigh. “Since you don’t want to answer, I guess you are, which is such a shame. Here I was thinking I could let you cum, but if you’re just here for my pleasure,” he pauses to tut at your whine of protest, “I’ll just use you for me. Spread your legs.”

The harsh command parts your legs instantly, your pussy clenching around nothing but the cool breeze that hits it when your skirt shifts up your leg. You watch as Matthew slips his middle two fingers into his mouth, eyes focused on the road as he wets the digits. He pulls them out after a few seconds, leaving the trail of spit connecting his lips to his fingers as he leans forward to spit harshly onto them, bringing his dripping hand over the center console to land directly on your pussy. His fingers immediately move to collect your wetness before beginning to massage very slow circles around your clit, not allowing you to have him where you really want him.

“Listen closely, you fucking slut,” Matthew spits, glancing over for only a second to make sure you’re looking at him- as if you could be looking at anything else. “You’re not going to cum until I tell you to. I don’t want to feel you fluttering around me, no squeezing my digits, because that means that I would be pleasing you, correct?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with furrowed eyebrows, nodding slowly and attempting to say, “Y-yes, sir,” but your words come out garbled from the makeshift gag. Matthew’s middle finger trails down to trace your weeping hole, tapping lightly on the wetness surrounding his favorite place.

“I’m not here to please you, stupid girl. I’m not here for you to play with, I’m not here for you to toy with, and I’m definitely not here to give filthy whores what they want. Have I made myself clear, or does my dumb little cockslut need to learn her place?”

Chills run down your body at his words and you can’t help the whimper that comes out, having to tighten your hands in fists to stop yourself from clenching, knowing that he’d be able to feel it. Your head tilts to the side to look out the tinted window, hearing Matthew laugh at your reaction, before feeling his finger slip barely inside you, shallowly fucking you so it only just passes his first knuckle.

You sharply inhale through your nose when a second finger breeches you, the two fingers beginning to massage the inside of you, rubbing against that one spot that has your legs shaking. You hum loudly, letting Matthew know that you’re close, but he only speeds up his digits, moving his thumb to rub circles against your clit, the sudden pleasure causing you to clench tightly around him. You can’t even begin to think of what you did wrong before his fingers are out of you and inside his mouth, sucking them deep into his throat to clean them of you, ignoring the harsh exhale you let out. He finally turns to you, laughing at the redness in your cheeks before taking out the panties from your mouth, slipping them into his pocket before he yanks you towards him by your throat, releasing it to slide his still-damp fingers past your lips. You do your best to give his fingers the best treatment you could, sucking them deep into your mouth while tracing your tongue in between them, your stomach swirling with need.

He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth and doesn’t give you anytime to catch your breath before your back is pinned to your seat and his hand is between your legs once more, slipping inside you easily and only curling faster into your g-spot when you moan loudly, your back arching against the arm on your chest, whining when his thumb returns to your clit, so on edge from this morning. He starts off by making small circles directly on your sensitive bud, ignoring your whining, before pulling his hand back and smacking your dripping sex, a loud moan filling the car.

“Tell me what you’re not going to do,” he demands, two fingers returning inside of you and immediately going to work while you try and think. Your mouth opens and closes as Matthew brings you closer and closer to the edge, watching you stay silent while your legs begin to shake. You gasp out, “Not going to c-cum, not going to,” clenching your fists as you interrupt your words with a sharp whine, unable to keep yourself from pulsing around him.

You almost shout ‘no!’ when he pulls his fingers out of you, but you aren’t even able to catch your breath before he’s going back and forth on your clit, watching you with his lips between his teeth as your breath stutters and your eyes roll into the back of your head, a pathetic, “please,” falling from your mouth. Matthew chuckles, moving his fingers to pinch your clit harshly.

“Who does this pretty pussy belong to? Remind me, darling.”

His even tone sends shivers down your spine as you pant out, “You, sir. It’s yours.” He hums, beginning his slow, circular movements once more. “That’s right. It’s mine, which means what? That I’m the one who controls when, and if, you ever come. I’m the one who decides what you receive, what you deserve, and when you deserve it. Do I need to repeat myself or does my dumb puppy understand?”

Your body thrashes in your seat as you nod quickly, trying to hold back as best you can. “Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours,” you repeat over and over, catching Matthew’s attention when he turns his head over to look at you. Pulling his fingers away from you, he places them in your mouth once more, his eyes moving back and forth between the road and your pretty face, tears already glistening in your eyes.

Removing them finally, he pats the side of your face twice, wipes his hand on his pant leg, and returns it back to the wheel, completely ignoring the panting girl in his passenger seat. He sniffs, trying to hide his grin as he asks, “You green, little love?” You nod immediately and repeat the color back to him, shifting in your seat, but stopping as soon as a hand clamps down on your thigh, pulling them apart. “You keep those there and shut the fuck up til we get home. I’ll deal with you then.”

It feels like forever til the car pulls into the driveway with a harsh stop, causing the seatbelt to dig into your neck slightly. Matthew scoffs when he notices you swallow and take a deep breath, mumbling out, “God, you’re pathetic, even my driving turns you on.” He runs a hand through his hair quickly, turning to you when you haven’t moved, nerves fizzing all throughout your body. “Out. Run along inside, little girl.” His voice dropped to a low, sturdy tone and sent a chill down your back, his eyes scarily calm as he stares you down. With shaky hands, you exit the car, rushing up the stone steps quickly while you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to experience. The click of the door unlocking barely even registers when you here the familiar sound of the car door shutting, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. Toeing your shoes off at the door, you rush up the steps into the bedroom, almost feeling as if you’re being chased by a scary monster. Which, in a way, you kind of were.

You were just finishing hanging up your coat when Matthew walked inside the bedroom, leather shoes still on which you can’t help but lick your lips at. He just looked too good in them, mixed with the pale pink button up he put on this morning, his appearance alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. The expression he gives you let’s you know how much trouble you’re in, nothing but a simple smirk on his face while he methodically rolls up his sleeves. He motions you over with two fingers when he takes a seat on the chest at the end of your bed, which, to guests, looked fairly normal. You had come to learn, however, it served one purpose and one purpose only: the perfect place for him to sit while he spanked the living shit out of you. Hesitant steps brings you to stand in front of him, almost eye level with him when he takes your hips in his hands to force your body in between his spread legs. The silence in the air cuts through your body like a knife while he slowly unzips your skirt, watching as the fabric drops to the floor before glancing up at you. “Such a shame you couldn’t be good enough to keep your pretty little thong on until we got home,” he tuts, pulling the lacy black fabric from his front pocket to twirl it around in the air. Your face burns from the movement and he grins, hair wild around him making him look almost feral. Unhinged.

The underwear suddenly flies off of his finger and lands somewhere in the room, forcing your vision back up to his eyes. He reaches up with one hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, using it as an excuse to grip the back of your head with his fingers and yank you closer to him. A gasp is pulled from your lungs when Matthew tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to the ceiling so he can start biting down your neck. His teeth follow the artery down the side of your throat, pinching it just hard enough to make your pulse spike and he’s able to feel it on his tongue, the throbbing sensation going straight to his cock. He pulls away just for a second to murmur delicately in your ear, “Do you know how badly you’re about to get it, you filthy, fucking brat? I’m about to destroy you.” His words fall from his lips like honey, swirling around your head and leaving you basking in the gentle, sing-song voice he uses with only you that you don’t even notice when he pulls away until he forces your chin down to look at him. Matthew smiles gently, very gently, at the way your eyes remained unfocused for a second, because he was going to enjoy this, enjoy you. Chills pop up on your skin when your brain finally realizes what he just said to you, mixed with how nice he was being right now. This was the calm before the storm.

Your eyes meet his finally and he purses his lips at you minutely, squinting his eyes as he studies your face. You have half a mind to try and apologize but when your lips part, no words can fall out because you know, you know there is no going back. It’s almost like he knows what you’re thinking when he asks you softly, “You’ll use your colors when you need them, yes?” And waits for you to nod and mumble out, “yes, sir,” while looking down at his lips. He leans in closer to you, stopping an inch away from your parted mouth to ask, “And what are they, sweet girl? Why don’t you remind me?” You have to shut your eyes to breathe for a second and Matthew allows you to have this time for yourself right now, knowing how rough he’s about to be. “G-green, yellow, red, sir. I know em, I’ll use em,” you sigh out, leaning your forehead against his to ground yourself.

“Mmm, that’s a good girl. Why don’t you lay yourself over my lap for me then? Think you can manage?” He hums, the vibration from his throat mixed with his breathy whisper makes it impossible for you to not obey his every command, obediently turning your body to lay across his lap, head resting on his thigh while your feet hold you lightly on the floor for now. You know that they will be limp by the end of this, but you can at least try to have some dignity in the beginning. Matthew stops your thoughts quickly by starting to massage your ass, starting with the left cheek before moving onto the right, alternating between harsh, pointed grips underneath his fingers and soft, slow circles with his palm. “Normally, I would make you tell me everything you did wrong here, ask how many you think you deserve, that sound about right?” He questions, nails digging in to scratch the skin around your hips. You whimper in the back of your throat and squeeze your eyes shut, breathing out, “yes, sir,” to appease him. Matthew hums, moving his hands down to scratch at the back of your thighs, the sensitive skin causing you to suck in a harsh breath of air. You press your forehead deeper into his thigh at his next words, choking on a gasp.

“See, Y/N, I just don’t think you deserve that. You wanted to be a nasty whore in front of all of my friends, so why should I give you that common courtesy when you’re just a little slut?” He punctuates the end of his question with a harsh slap, the pinky ring he put on today biting into the skin of your ass. You barely have time to apologize before he slaps you again, this time on the other side. His other arm reaches for your neck, holding the back of it similarly to a scolded child, tightening his grip when he shouts, “Answer me!” and spanks you once more. The pain bites through you like you fell on ice and Matthew revels in the high pitched whine that rings throughout the room. “You shouldn’t, sir, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, just punish me,” you cry out, pressing wet kisses to his thigh.

Fuck, Matthew liked hearing that and tilted his head back, biting his lip, the rush of power that ran through him at your words had his hands shaking. He feels you choke out a cough around his hand and releases your neck from the tight grip he had it in. He sniffs, running a finger lightly down your spine. “I’d apologize for that but I just don’t really care,” and you can sense the grin on his face when he spanks you once more and has you moaning against his leg.

The feeling is beyond words, the stinging sensation not even pain at this point but pleasure, it feels like every spank is bringing you closer and closer. Matthew’s pant leg has to be soaked by now from your drooling mouth but you don’t even notice, only letting out rough gasps or ‘thank you, sir’. Suddenly, you feel a smack on your upper thigh, and, without even thinking, reach a hand down to cover your skin.

Before you could even blink, Matthew had grabbed your waist, placed you sitting on the wooden chest, and was walking towards the closet, not speaking a word to you. Grateful for the break, you brace yourself with your hands on the chest and try and get yourself back to Earth, wiping the drool off your chin with a grimace. You can feel your sticky, shaking thighs and ass burn from the direct contact but your face burns even brighter when you feel the wood below you become damp from your dripping center. You couldn’t remember how many spanks you had gotten at this point, your head was starting to get hazy and your body was on fire, needing Matthew’s touch. Your head snaps up when the clicks of Matthew’s shoes grow louder and your stomach drops when you see the metal handcuffs in his hands, no change in the calm manner he’s presenting. A rush of heat goes through you when you see the damp circle on his thigh from your mouthing at him. He squats down in front of you to bring the handcuffs up, gliding the cool metal down your face while watching every small change your facial muscles make. A chuckle comes from the back of his throat suddenly and you look up to say a small prayer before looking back at him, watching as he taps the cuff to your bottom lip. “You’re real brave for trying that one, Y/N. I mean,” he pauses to shake his head from side to side, laughing harder when he sees your thighs clench. “You just can’t help yourself, you stupid, stupid girl,” and then your face burns and your core burns and Matthew grabs your face in his hands and forces your eyes onto his.

“Ask me again.” He sounds desperate for it, need filling his quick plea and your mouth drops in his grip, wide doe eyes looking at him. He shakes his head, drawing his lips into his mouth for a moment before tilting his chin up at you. “Ask me to hit your pretty little face again.” He whispers this last part onto your lips, just barely allowing his bottom lip to skim yours before he pulls back to watch the way your eyes slip close and a soft ‘please’ escapes you without hesitation.

The control he had over you was a funny thing, it wasn’t that he had you on a leash, metaphorically, it was you that had him chained and owned. You owned him and he was thrilled to be able to show you just how much he appreciated that. His hand leaves your face slowly and you open your eyes immediately to watch him stand, his prominent bulge now inches from your face. “You can do better than that. Beg for me. Now.” His voice grows dark and he grits his teeth together, unimpressed with your whine. You swallow, looking up at him incredulously before managing to spit out, “Please, I’m so sorry, sir, please hit me. I want you to slap me til I beg you to stop, please, sir.” Matthew watches as your eyes grow glossy with unshed tears and your lungs have you panting for air before you see his hand pull back a ways. You close your eyes in anticipation, lips turning into a sedated smile while you wait for the slap.

The rush of adrenaline never comes and your eyebrows crease in confusion before you open your eyes to see Matthew smirking at you, arms folded in front of him, metal cuffs swinging back and forth in his hand. “You didn’t think I was going to give you what you wanted, did you? Cute performance, though, seems I’ve taught you well. A good little actress you are,” he pauses to laugh at your pouting face before unlocking the handcuffs, not even acknowledging the shocked gasp you release at his words. When you’re still sitting in front of him seconds later, he rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers at you, “Up, now. God, Y/N, do you ever listen?” He sounds annoyed with you, your mind tells you, and your body scrambles to appease him, jumping up so fast you almost fall. His hands catch your shoulders easily, it was second nature at this point, before he spun you to face away from him, forcing your arms parallel behind your back to click the cuffs into place on your wrists. With each touch, his fingers leave behind trails of fire on your skin, and you revel in the hidden gentleness behind each rough touch he allows you to have. Matthew gives your top arm a tug and hums contently when you stumble backwards into his chest, moving your body like a ragdoll back onto his lap, being careful to make sure your neck doesn’t slam down on his thigh. Your fingers grip your arms as you test your mobility, which was, not much to say the least. Matthew’s left hand resumes massaging your ass, and your face snaps back to him when you feel it. How did you not notice it when he first walked out?

Adorned on his middle three fingers were three large silver rings with his initials on them, reading out ‘MGG’ in a bold font. They were something he didn’t wear too often, but when he did, God. He liked to wear them so the letters were facing his palm, and allowed for each spank to mark his initials into you, to claim you as his. Matthew meets your eyes and grins, moving your head to face the floor slowly by taking your chin in his hand and turning it slowly, not breaking eye contact until you’re physically unable to keep looking at him. His hand goes down to tug at the chain between your wrists, lifting them up just enough to put a strain on your shoulders before letting them fall harshly onto your lower back. “Too bad you’re all chained up. Can’t even say no to me branding you, can you? Cuz you like it, you filthy girl,” he teases, finally smacking your ass twice in a row, a light one to warm you up to the metal first before actually allowing himself to let go. You squeeze your eyes closed and let out an almost laugh at the sensation, the feeling completely different. This was painful, and Matthew knew it, which was why he forced your eyes down. He didn’t want you to know when it was coming, to give you time to prepare. You deserved to be punished and he had no problem dishing that out.

A particularly harsh smack rips a moan from your throat and your legs start shaking, you had to be absolutely dripping on him at this point. “Please, sir, oh my god, please,” you cry out, unable to catch your breath when the next one comes, another moan falling from you. Matthew pauses when he feels you choke on a breath, instead going to trace over the quickly forming marks on your backside while he lets you catch your breath. “What are you begging for this time, Y/N, hm? I know my dirty slut isn’t asking to cum, not after being so disobedient today.” The feeling of him writing his initials over and over into your skin mixed with knowing that they will bruise by tomorrow causes you to squeeze your legs together to push off your orgasm, wanting to be good for him.

“I-I’m trying, Sir,” you gasp out, wrists tugging at the restraints. You rest your forehead harshly on his thigh, trying to focus on your breathing when you hear the slap before feeling it. Matthew starts again, hitting you quickly three times in a row, moving his hand to slip his thumb into your open, panting mouth. You suck his finger deep into your mouth, grateful for it, but Matthew has other plans, deciding to hook your cheek and turn your head to lay on his leg, your face dripping mascara when you make eye contact with him. The curls around his face stick to him with sweat, his eyes blazing and lips a dark cherry color, likely to his obsessive biting. His eyebrows raise in a condescending manner, eyes flickering to the wet patch you’ve made on both of his legs now before examining the handiwork he made on your ass. He rests his hand to thumb over the indents, clicking his tongue when you hiss from his actions. “Color?” He simply says, spinning the M ring around with his thumb. You whimper out, “Green,” trying unsuccessfully to stop your hips from bucking up.

He looks unimpressed at your actions, eyebrows raised when he lifts you up so your wet core is pressed to him, you legs straddling his thigh. You try to lift yourself up for a second but Matthew holds you down harshly, ignoring the small, “Sir,” you whisper out from how close you are. He ignores you and begins to slide your hips back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness around onto him. Your eyes are wide when he flexes his leg to meet your clit perfectly, whimpers falling from your mouths like prayers. “G-Gonna cum,” you cry out, holding your elbows behind you as your stomach tightens and your legs begin to shake. Matthew shakes his head in front of you, tsking lightly before reminding you, “That’s not how we ask,” and continuing to grip your hips and have you grind on his thigh, leaning forward to bite at your neck and darken some of the marks he left there before. You whine deep in your throat and open your mouth, tongue falling out when Matthew pulls back to look at you. “Please, can I cum, sir?” You whimper, hair sticking to your forehead when you tilt your head back to try and hold it off. Immediately, a hand is wrapped around your bared throat and tugs you closer to him, pulling and pushing you by your throat rather than your hips as his other hand moves to grip your ass in his hand, smacking it once. “No. You can’t,” he commands, stopping his movements and holding your hips down so you’re unable to move on your own. Matthew watches with a mock sympathetic expression at your creased eyebrows and open mouth, a sad cry leaving it which he can’t help but roll his eyes at.

Tucking his thumb into your mouth, he pulls your mouth open and leans forward slightly, the feeling of him spitting onto your tongue from behind your closed eyes is enough to make you drop your head forward onto his shoulder. Matthew doesn’t allow this to happen of course, instead lifting you up onto his other thigh, his grip on your hips not releasing when he begins forcing you to start grinding on him again. You hiss at the stimulation so quickly after you were that close but say nothing, he can tell in your wide eyes that you not only know you deserve this, but you want it. “Got to make my thighs even, yeah? Can’t have a mess on one leg and not the other.” Your eyes move to the thigh you just rode, bottom lip finding itself between your teeth at the large wet patch left behind, glistening in the light. Moving your head back to make eye contact with him, you whimper from the nonstop pace he had set, getting closer to the edge than you thought was possible. “S-Sir, I can’t,” you stress, a clinking sound ringing behind you as you try and move your hands, groaning when they don’t budge.

“Someone’s a little frustrated it looks like, too bad your hands are tied, bet they’d be tugging on my hair like a proper whore,” he finishes this with a harsh tug on your own, pulling you backwards so he can see all of you. Your eyes slip closed and you curse at yourself for being so bold earlier, what the fuck were you thinking. A harsh ripping sound forces your eyes back open and you see your shirt fall off your body, mouth dropped open as you watch his hand immediately move to slap your left tit, moving to pinch your nipple harshly. He looks up at you, a smug expression on his face when he shrugs, gathering the pieces in his hand to toss aside. “It was in the way, I don’t know why you were still wearing it.”

It adds a new element, the fact that you were stark naked in front of him and he was fully clothed, wearing a button up and those tight black pants that squeeze his thighs so well. You buck your hips up in his hand when you start thinking deeper at the power that he just exuded effortlessly, how he didn’t even need to try and you gave yourself to him. “Sir,” you whine out, a tear slipping from your eye in frustration when you feel your toes curling. He gathers your face in one hand with a soft smile, wiping the tear with his thumb before slipping it into your mouth, knowing your body better than you do as the action calms you more than you thought was possible. He leans forward to ghost over your cheekbone lightly with his lips, murmuring, “I don’t really care that you want to cum, darling, it’s not about you, is it?” into your temple, before pulling back. You shake your head, mewling when he slips his thumb out of your mouth and smacks you harshly against the face, lifting your legs up at the exact moment that would have sent you over the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gasping at the slap and trying to stop your hips from bucking up in his grasp. Pulling your lips back into a smile, you blow the hair out of your face before looking up at him. Alright, so you weren’t going to come for a while, if at all, tonight. That also means that he’s going to be spending a lot of attention bringing you to that edge. Good enough. You watch as Matthew tries to figure out what has you smiling, fingers gripping your hips harsher to make you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. Standing up slowly, he moves you to kneel in front of him, forcing your head down with his hand on the back of your neck. He pets your head for a second, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“What’s got you so smiley, puppy?” The nickname he spits out at you sends a rush to your core and you whine at the way it makes you feel, like you’re so small and he’s so big, and god, is this a lot. “T-thought about your attention on me, Sir. Like it,” you moan out, pulling on your restraints and huffing when they don’t move. Matthew’s fingers tighten in your hair, and you feel the cool leather of his shoe sliding up your thigh. Your lips part as you realize where this is going and you can’t lie at how much you want it.

“Yeah, I got a bit of an attention whore as a pet, didn’t I? A tragedy, really, could’ve had you coming three times by now, but, you wanted to be a brat, so my hands are tied,” he comments, talking about you as if you were just a plaything to him. Your core throbbed when you felt the toe of his boot run along it, sliding underneath you so you rested directly on top of it. Matthew’s hand in your hair kept your head facing the floor as he continued. “It’s like you’re just too dumb to do anything unless I tell you exactly how to, you’re just a needy little thing who wants to cum, that’s all you are.” His degrading words mixed with the thrill of riding his fucking shoe rips a sob from your chest, a mess of “please, sir” and “yes” coming from you. He lifts your head up to get a look at your eyes before continuing on. “I’ll make this real easy for you, okay? Yes? Use your words,” He slips his thumb into your mouth and mocks you when you try and speak while your lips wrap around him, laughing when you whine and buck against his boot. He tilts your head up as says slowly, “You’re going to stand up, let me undo the cuffs, and get onto the bed. Then, I’m going to join you and you aren’t going to touch me once, okay? Got to train you somehow.”

Your cheeks burn at his last statement, whispering out, ‘fuck’, before shakily standing up, with his help of course, and turn around silently to let him undo the restraints. You hear them clink before you’re released, Matthew’s hands massaging each wrist for a few seconds before returning them to your side. You roll your shoulders once before moving onto the bed without another word, staring up at the ceiling as Matthew disappears back into the closet. Finally resting your head back onto the pillows, you attempt to shake out the tremors in your legs, whimpering at the cool air on your wetness. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, matching the throbbing in your core and you can’t help but whine in desperation.

Matthew returns shortly after, wearing just his briefs and his button up, shoes and pants left behind. You feel him place something next to your feet on the bed but before your head can turn his fingers are on your chin, making it impossible for you to move. He meets your parted lips with a quick kiss, smiling when he pulls away to rub your cheek with his hand.

Pulling his hand back, he slaps you across the face once, relishing in the harsh gasp he rips from you as your head turns to the side. His fingers move back to squish your cheeks together, his lips pursed as he studies your frame. Your voice shakes when you whimper out a pathetic, “please,” but Matthew just scoffs.

“Please,” he mocks, your spine burning white hot from the humiliation. “Didn’t bring you up here to beg, especially that badly, Y/N, I’m disappointed.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes as he tuts quietly to himself, shaking his head from side to side. His index finger moves from its place on your cheek to slip slowly between your lips, a chill spreading through Matthew as he feels your breath shake on his hand. He pulls it out suddenly, not giving you time to process before he spits down your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head on instinct.

“Getting too mouthy for my liking. Can you learn your place and shut the fuck up, little girl?” He scolds, angry eyes burning into yours while keeping his tone even. You nod automatically, licking your lips once before pressing them together, catching Matthew’s eyes drifting to watch you. He moves his fingers to trail lightly down your neck, brushing over your collarbone before going further down your body. You hear him chuckle to himself when you place your hands under your back, not trusting yourself enough to keep your hands away from him. His eyes look back to yours for a second before he grabs your nipple between his thumb and first two fingers, trailing the hard nub around them. His touch is gentler than you expected, your eyebrows pinched together when he moves to your other nipple, the fact that he was just playing with them right now was not like him.

“Not enough for you, hmm?” Matthew quips, bringing his fingers to travel down over your stomach, your breath hitching when he caresses both of his thumbs over your pelvis, pressing down just enough for you to let out a whimper, the tight knot in your stomach begging to be released.

“I think,” Matthew starts, completely pulling away from you to grab one of the items he put next to you. You debate turning your head to see but you know that the outcome would probably not be in your favor. Matthew’s hands come back into your eyesight and your mouth drops a little at what’s in his hands, a flogger with many leather strips hanging from the handle.

“Mm, you excited, puppy? You shouldn’t be, because what you showed me today is that my bitch thinks she’s allowed to use me like that. I think, you might need a little reminder of who the fuck I am. Because you know your place, don’t you, Y/N? Speak up, now.”

The grin on his face terrifies you in the best way, and your voice cracks when you whisper out, “Yes, sir.” He hums, flexing his fingers before wrapping them around the handle and beginning to run his other hand through the ends. “Tell me then,” he pauses for a while, turning his head back to lean down and whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?”

“You, sir, I’m yours, I belong to you, please, please, pl-,” your whimper is cut short by a swift hit across your chest, back arching off the bed at the sensation. He managed to hit you directly on the nipple with one of the strips, feeling harsh pinpricks of pain course through your body and leaving you gasping for air.

“That’s right,” he condescendingly praises, lightly dragging the flogger over your body. “I think you might’ve forgotten that I fucking own you. You are MINE,” your right tit this time. “My property.” Left. “My whore to fuck as I please.” Right. “And my fucking slut to use.” Two fingers slip deep past your lips for only a second before he’s removing the digits, a loud moan leaving you when he begins slapping your tits with his bare hands, feeling the slight sting of his rings still on.

“Fuck, Sir, please, I know, I know, please, I’ll be such a good slut for you, please, just fuck me,” you cry out, legs shaking from the pain flooding your system, your brain turning it right into pleasure. Matthew laughs at this, a genuine belly laugh, dropping the flogger on the ground next to you. His hand grabs you by the throat, pulling you slightly upwards so you’re forced off the bed a ways.

“Good luck,” he whispers, releasing you before finally beginning to unbutton his shirt, taking his time taking his eyes up and down your naked body, small red marks already appearing from how hard he’s grabbing you. Dropping the shirt behind him, he moves to sit between your legs, forcing your hips to come off the bed and into his lap, a small, “thank you, sir” coming from you. He smirks at you, taking his thumb into his mouth to suck it past his lips, his cheekbones protruding and your mouth watering at how fucking hot he looks, watching closely when he pops it from his mouth and he grins at you, leaning forward to spit directly on your pussy. “I wouldn’t be thanking me just yet, pretty thing.”

A gasp escapes you when he brings his thumb down to your throbbing clit, the slightest touch making your hips jump but you force them down, closer to him. He begins to trace small circles on you, feeling you start to flutter already from the gentlest touch. “Close already, are we?” You whimper out, nodding quickly. “‘S a shame you had to be a bad girl then.” You hold back a groan at his words, clenching tighter to try and hold off your orgasm.

Feeling this, Matthew smacks your inner thigh, hard, and slides a finger into you, shaking his head back and forth when he sees your legs start to shake. “Don’t get all coy on me now, go ahead and relax. Wanna feel how aching you are for me without having to worry if I’ll be able to take my finger out of your greedy pussy.” He finishes his sentence by slipping another finger inside and beginning to curl his fingers towards himself, finding that soft spot inside of you instantly. Your neck cranes backwards while your lungs beg for air, unable to breathe at this point, let alone hold off your impending orgasm. Matthew senses this, and withdraws his fingers at the last second, smirking at the loud whine you release.

“Tell you what,” he starts, pausing to spit roughly on your clit, glancing back up at you when you cry out in frustration. “If you can put that dirty mouth to good use and beg for me, I’ll fuck you. Use those crocodile tears and give me a good performance.”

You gasp out, shaking your head from side to side as your hips start bucking, which Matthew puts a stop to immediately. “Not... not a performance, please, sir, please please please please please fuck me, I’ve been so-so good and haven’t touched once! I’m so sorry, please just fuck me, I’ve learned my lesson, please.” You’re crying by the end, your body on fire and the bubble in your stomach feels like it’s ready to burst, hands shaking from the adrenaline.

“Again.” Is all you hear from Matthew, and you lift your head up and whine, staring up at him with eyes filled with tears, not breaking eye contact as he pushes his fingers inside of you once more, finding your special spot with ease and pressing. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan, cutting yourself off to rush out, “Sir, please, use me, please just get yourself off, fuck me like a toy for your pleasure, please just fuck me. Need you to hurt me, Daddy.” The title you give him spurs him on further and you sigh when you feel him get up and slide his briefs down, your head lolling to the side in exhaustion and, to be fair, preparation for what’s to come.

“Hey,” Matthew snaps, pulling your spaced-out eyes back to see him in between your legs once more, watching as he leans forward to massage his tip against your wetness, coating himself in seconds. “Eyes on me. I’m giving you my cock and you can’t even say anything to me? Don’t care where you are, I’ve trained you better.”

You can feel the degradation as faraway as you were and you blink up at him before nodding quickly, thanking him as if your life depended on it. He leans forward, one arm going to lift up your back, his free hand guiding himself slowly inside of you, simultaneously moaning with you as he sinks deep into your pulsing walls.

Without giving you a moment to think, he sets up a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward and hitting your swollen clit with each thrust, repeated moans and screams falling from your lips as you try and keep breathing from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel his hard, hard cock inside of you, and you know that if you were to look you would be able to see him poking through your skin slightly.

As if he was reading your mind, Matthew pushes down on your stomach and a scream rips from your throat, the pressure from both sides making it impossible to think anymore. “Y’fuckin like that, nasty girl, can see me fucking your tight cunt through your stomach, yeah? Yeah?” He presses down harder until you scream out, “Yes!” thrashing on the bed underneath him. He groans, removing his hand to hold onto the headboard in front of you, keeping his fast, deep pace as he stares down at you.

“Hardest I’ve been in my fucking life, I swear, got me fucking whipped for this cunt, but I know you’re just as bad for my cock, huh, baby? Gonna feel me for days.” He moves his arm out from underneath you to cup one of your cheeks, watching with a smile as you nuzzle into it out of habit. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, too sweetly for how he’s fucking you, his lips meeting yours and just sitting there for so long, just giving you his touch before he’s peppering small kisses on your lips, before pulling away and humming, and you hear the slap before you feel it against your cheek.

He’s fucking cruel, watching with a grin as your head rolls back and you clench so tight you almost push him out, but he slides back inside easily and resumes his borderline torture on you. His fingers make their way over to pinch your cheeks together, your tongue falling out automatically which Matthew hums at, spitting slowly into your waiting mouth. Some of it falls down your chin, but Matthew catches it with his thumb, sliding it right back into your mouth. You whimper around him as your legs begin to shake again, unsure of how long you’ll be able to hold off.

“S-So close, Sir,” you gasp out, cutting yourself off with a loud moan when his hand moves from your face to push your legs over his shoulders, fucking harder into you than he had ever tonight, reaching spots so far inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed.

Breathing felt like a chore at this point, you didn’t know this level of pleasure existed, as if you were completely filled and satisfied, but also on fire and so close from the biggest prize of your life. You try and express this in a whine, and hearing Matthew tut, as well as his hips stutter once, you know what’s coming next.

His hands wrap around your throat and begins to use it as a handle to pull you on and off his cock, choked moans and gasps being ripped out of your vocal chords. Matthew groans deeply, pulling his left hand away to smack you across the face once, throwing your head to the side as your back arches off the bed, the new angle allowing him to slip even deeper inside of you.

“Stay there, stay right fucking there. God, my cockslut doing so well for me, letting her owner fuck her so hard, so deeply.” His left hand grips your hip, using it as leverage as he begins to pull on your neck harder, speeding up the pace. A mix between a gasp and a whine falls from you, chest rising and falling quickly as you try and comprehend how fucking good this feels.

“G-gonna cum,” you cry out, whining when you see Matthew shake his head side to side, causing you to squeeze tighter around him to try and hold off. Matthew chokes on his moan and his hands fall from your body, hips stilling inside as he sits up more. While you’re grateful for the opportunity to breathe again, it’s short lived when Matthew smacks you across both cheeks, not even giving you a second before backhanding you on both sides. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body shakes underneath him, pussy fluttering around him as you try not to cum.

“Oh, you fucking liked that didn’t you, you dirty slut. Think I should take a picture of you like this to show to the world, let everyone know how filthy my girl is. What would they think, seeing you so close with my handprints across your face, saw how rough you like it.” His head’s tilted back, lips dark red and bruised from how hard you were biting them, chin glistening from your wetness, looking like a devil in an angel’s body. His tongue peeks out to swipe along his teeth, chest heaving but he stares down at you with a grin on his face, watching your body thrash, bark arching and falling repeatedly while your hands clench into fists as you try and hold off your orgasm.

“Please, please, please!” You beg, openly crying and squeezing the absolute life out of Matthew. Hearing you sob underneath him, he finally takes mercy on you, bringing a hand down to rub fast circles on your clit, the other tightening around your throat, squeezing as hard as he knew you could take.

“Give it to me, come on, let go for me. Need it so bad, now, Y/N,” he moans, looking into your open eyes before finally spitting in your open mouth, the bubble building up inside of you finally shattering and you scream, your body convulsing as you cum, and squirt all over the sheets, Matthew, and yourself, feeling as if your orgasm would never end.

It was like your pussy got stuck by lightning, you didn’t know this kind of pleasure was possible, it was like every nerve in your body was exploding, every atom being stimulated by Matthew, and you knew your voice was going to be sore tomorrow but you couldn’t stop moaning, the feeling otherworldly. You vaguely felt him release your throat, gasping as you tried to catch your breath, feeling as if your entire body had a vibrator held to it, the aftershocks hitting you again and again as you tighten and release Matthew’s cock again and again.

Matthew swore he saw God that day, watching your head roll back into the mattress and cum so hard he had to hold you down to keep you still, fucking you through his own as he came deep inside you, unable to wait after being drenched with your squirt. Your moans sounded like a choir in his ears, spurring him on to make sure to get every last bit of your orgasm out of you, groaning lowly in his throat before resting his forehead in the crook of your shoulder, continuing to slowly thrust in and out of you. His arms tighten around you immediately when he feels how much your body is shaking, lifting his head up to get a look at your eyes.

“Oh precious baby,” he murmurs, smoothing out your hair around your face. Your eyes were looking right through him, not even realizing he was there as you basked in the warm cloud you were currently on. He leaves a few kisses on your temple before trying to pull out of you, a loud whine stopping him quickly. His thumbs brush away the tears that had already started falling, hearing you moan, “No, no, no, no, no.” Slipping his thumb in your mouth, he rushes out,

“Okay, okay, not going anywhere sweet girl. Mm, you wanna tell me your color, honey love? You feeling good?” The hand in your mouth moves up and down as you nod slowly, eyes drifting back to the ceiling. “You did so well for me, pumpkin, such a good girl. Do you wanna go take a nice, warm bath? Make you feel so much better, how does that sound? Good?” You blink slowly up at him, squeezing them shut when they start to burn with tears. Matthew wipes them away faster than they can fall, biting his bottom lip nervously. You had never been this far under before, he was sure, and to have you so unresponsive made him a little scared. He just wanted to take care of you.

“Babygirl,” he breathes, pulling his thumb from your mouth to wrap around the back of your head and pull you closer to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Your bare chest is pressed against his and warmth spreads over your body, happy to be close to your dom. You hum contently and light suck on the skin your lips touch, holding it gently between your teeth, not even processing the groan Matthew lets out. He makes sure that he’s feeling you breathing under him, mind moving a million miles an hour trying to think of what he should give you first. Nuzzling your head out of his neck, he presses his lips to yours, lightly sucking on each of your lips to distract you while he pulls out.

“I know, I know, I know, honey, here, I’m still with you little one,” he tries to console you when you whine into his mouth, his fingers moving to replace his now softened cock. His hand moves to cup your dripping sex and he gently pushes a finger inside, but by the look on your face he knows you felt empty. “You can warm my cock later, but I’m gonna sit you up right now, my love,” he whispers, sliding his finger out of your quivering heat.

Pulling away slightly to make you chase his lips, he uses this as an opportunity to gently lift you up and sit in his lap, arms deadweight over his shoulders and your forehead pressed to his sternum. He wraps one arm across your entire back, holding you tightly towards him while the other hand strokes your back up and down. He continues to murmur, “good girl,” and humming in the back of his throat, knowing the deep vibrations from his vocal chords is soothing to you. The change in position allows him see all the marks he’s left down your back, nail scratches, small angry red marks left by gripping you a bit too tightly. He also gets a look at the top of your ass, handprints and small ‘MGG’ clearly visible all over. He winces while looking at that, maybe he went a bit wild on that one. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels you move your lips against his chest, whispering something too quiet for him to pick up on.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, pitch raised as if talking to a young child. You repeat what you said, his heart clenching at your small voice asking him, “Bathtime?” Stroking your hair softly, he holds you to his chest, lungs releasing all the air inside of him. He pinches his eyes shut and his voice cracks when he coos,

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can go take a bath now, do anything you want. Oh, little one,” he murmurs, feeling your tears fall onto his chest. He takes your face in his hands, studying your expression carefully. Your mouth parts slightly and he takes it as a sign to place his thumb back inside your mouth, watching you hum in appreciation. Lifting you up carefully, he brings you over to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with you in his lap while the water begins to run.

A small whine catches his attention from where he was pouring epsom salts into the bath, his head snapping to yours quickly. Your big y/e/c eyes stare up at him, still very hazy but recognizing where you are now. Releasing his thumb from your mouth, you begin to mumble, “Love you, love you, love you, love you,” over and over again, reaching your arms over his shoulders to hug him tightly. Feeling his arms wrap around your back, you breathe in his scent, senses overwhelmed with HIM. His lips kiss the side of your head as he sighs into your ear, squeezing you closer.

“Love you so so much, angel. Oh, you have no idea how loved you are, pretty thing.” You hum quietly, shaking your head back and forth. “Oh, you do know then?” His fingers run up your side lightly and you giggle, trying to lift yourself away from his skillful fingers. Pulling away to look up at him, you lose your words for a second when you see the bright smile on his face, eyes looking at you with nothing but appreciation, love, and a bit of worry still in them.

“Tickles, Daddy” you say around his thumb, having placed it back in your mouth already, as your eyebrows crease slightly because you think it makes you look intimidating. He hums, turning the water off behind him before his attention returns to you. A small chuckle leaves his lips when he sees your expression, watching with a lovesick smile when your lips turn up and you place a small kiss on the tip of his thumb. He swipes the digit across your lower lip, leaning forward to give you a kiss, sighing deeply into it.

“Why don’t I put you in the tub and you get all cozy while I go get some things for you? Oh, baby, don’t cry, only for one minute, okay? Daddy’s good girl can do it, so brave,” He consoles you, not liking the way a pout rested on your lips.

“Promise?” you ask pathetically, voice cracking while you let him slide you into the warm water, his arms getting wet when you hold onto him for longer than needed.

He can feel his heart breaking at your bambi eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of care he needed to give you right now. “Be back so quickly you won’t even notice, okay?” When you huff out all your air, he takes it as a sign to slip away and quickly grab everything he needs to, leaving you alone in the tub.

You bite your lip, reminding yourself that you were Daddy’s good girl, she could last a few minutes without him. Whining quietly to yourself, you rest your head on the side of the tub, feeling the effects of the last few hours catch up with you. While you were doing this, Matthew was running around the house like a mad man. He first grabbed the biggest glass of water he could find, some dark chocolate and peanut butter so he could get some protein in you, and finally grabbing the robes he threw in the dryer when he first got home. It was a habit of his at this point, he always wanted you to be warm, cozy, and safe.

You hear the record player turn on in the bedroom and perk up, the soft sounds of jazz slowly filling the space when Matthew walks through the door, arms full of different items that he places on the table next to the tub. He smiles down at you, taking your outstretched hands in his as he slides in behind you, pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. Soft kisses are pressed behind your ear as he sighs deeply, finally able to relax and completely focus on taking care of his baby.

“Look at you, my perfect girl, did so well for me. I got some lavender oil, you wanna put a few drops in the tub?” he asks you gently, holding the glass bottle in front of you. His other arm caress up and down your side, making it difficult for you to focus on anything else. “Y/N,” he draws out, his soft voice getting you to turn your head and look at him. “Lavender, yes or no?”

You nod slowly then, taking the dropper from the bottle and placing four drops into the tub, feeling so much praise when Matthew continues to tell you how good you are. A happy squeal comes from you when you curl back into his chest, feeling his laughter reverberate off of you. His hand reaches up to hold your head against him, the two of you sighing as you sat in your own little perfect world, nothing but love and calmness filling the space.

Hearing you sniffle, it breaks the silence you were surrounded in, sending a hot flash down his spine, Matthew’s arms pulling you back to look at him, your teary eyes making his fill with worry. Before he has the chance to speak, you choke out the most pitiful, “Bad girl?” His hands take your face in them immediately, bringing you close to kiss your forehead and shake his head back and forth. “No, baby, you’re my best girl, so good for me, so so good for me. My Y/N was just a little naughty today, yeah? But Daddy’s not mad, pretty. Got such a good girl for me.” When you shake your head back and forth in his hands, his eyebrows furrow, pulling away to look at you eye to eye, wincing when he sees how goddamn faraway you were. “Do you want to tell Daddy what got you so worked up? Maybe let me know your color, little one?”

You let out a wet sob, looking at his kind eyes staring at you with so much love that it physically hurts. “I just wanted you to touch me, b-but you would only let me kiss you! N-No lovin on me, but y-you are so good to me and I was being selfish,” you finally end, suckling your bottom lip before Matthew’s thumb replaces it, his other hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. His lips softly kiss your swollen eyelids, then your nose, then your lips, removing his thumb for a moment to pour his love into you.

“Not selfish, sweet pea, just gotta tell me you want me. I know I’ve got an insatiable puppy, who I love very much, yeah?” He smiles sweetly at you, pushing your hair back behind your ears to tsk, seeing another tear roll down. “I think you’re also just a little overwhelmed, should’ve let you eat more before I went so rough on you.” You can barely think of what he’s saying with the way he’s holding you and how kind his tone is, like you were a little child he needed to care for.

A cool glass pressed to your lips pulls you out of it, looking up at him while you drink it slowly, not having to lift a finger as he tilts his hand up for you. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, watching as you drink almost the whole glass, turning your head away when your done. He drinks the last few sips in one big gulp, placing it to the side before unwrapping the chocolate bar. His thumb presses against your lip as you bite into the piece he gave you, the bitter flavor having you crinkle your nose in response. Matthew laughs at you, placing the other half in his mouth.

“I know, sugarplum, not too sweet, but so good for you. Got some good antioxidants in there.” He continues to hand feed you half of the bar, eating the other half for himself after you bite each square. It takes more coaxing for the peanut butter, but he knows that you trust him with your entire being right now and you’ll listen to anything he says. It’s almost unreal the minimal amount of effort he has to put in for you to do what he says, something that takes some getting used to, but, god, does he relish in it.

You feel his hands start to rub soap up and down your body, taking his time near your shoulders, neck, and back to give you gentle massages. A long sigh fills the air as you lie there, feeling so well-cared for by him. A cup of water rinses off the suds from your shoulders, but your eyes have slipped shut a long time ago. Matthew takes his time washing your hair next, scratching your scalp and making sure to not tug on any knots, you can worry about those later. Right now was just to take care of you.

He feels you shift in his lap while he’s rinsing out the conditioner, his eyes snapping to watch yours open, still very far-away. Leaning his head down, he gives you a kiss on the nose, feeling so full of love when you giggle at his actions.

“Love you, Daddy,” you whisper, feeling like any louder would ruin the moment. He places the cup on the table, turning you around to face his chest as he hugs you, kissing the top of your head. Your eyes fill with tears out of nowhere and you tighten your arms around him, making it difficult for him to pull you away to look at your face. His hands hold your cheeks while his eyes search yours back and forth quickly.

“Hey,” he gently starts, a small smile on his face while he wipes your tears. “I love you so much, little love. So so much. You’re quite far away still, aren’t you? Still feeling green?” His body can finally relax when you repeat the color back to him, tension dropping from his shoulders from the verbal confirmation. “Good girl, so good,” he hums, the praise sending flutters to your stomach. “Thank you for telling me your color, angel. Do you want to get out and Daddy can put some lotion on you? Got some ouchies we need to take care of.”

After receiving your nod, Matthew unplugs the drain and stands you up, helping you out of the tub and immediately into a robe. The two of you walk back into the bedroom, his arm around your waist while you lean on him. He had changed the sheets when you were in the bath, not wanting you to have to lie on the soaked fabric. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you allow him to braid your hair quickly, knowing that you hated lying on the bed with wet hair splayed everywhere. You hear the elastic wrap around the ends and then his arms are around you, head tucked into your neck to kiss you softly.

“You warm enough for me to do your butt, honey?” He whispers, grinning when you nod happily. This was one of your favorite parts of aftercare. He gently slips you out of the robe, letting you get comfortable on your stomach before he sits crosslegged next to you, gently ghosting his hand down your spine.

“I’m using special lotion today, do you want aloe instead?” Special lotion was what you always called the cream Matthew put on your marks, something your faraway self once muttered when he was taking care of you. With no surprise, you agree with him, and he uncaps the pot, beginning to massage the cool cream on your ass. His heart clenches when you hiss at the ring marks, immediately spitting out, “I know, I know, shh, it’s okay.” His thumb traces over them, cock growing when he feels how indented his name was into you. He snaps out of it when he feels you shift under his hand, continuing to apply the lotion on your ass, and a thin layer across the scratches on your sides and back.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N,” Matthew breathes, caressing your back while you turn your face to look at him. “Just, such an angel for me. So so lucky to have my good girl.” Your cheeks turn pink and you try to hide your face in the pillow, not making it far before his hands turn your body over to look up at him. Crawling over your body, he rests himself on his forearms, dipping his neck down to plant soft kisses on your lips. After a minute, he pulls away to lift up the covers and shuffle the two of you under them, immediately wrapping his arms around you to tuck your head into his chest. This was his form of aftercare just as much as yours, he needed to remind himself that you were there and his and that you loved him.

“No more cryin’, honey, don’t like to see those tears on my girl, okay?”

His arms hold your naked body to his chest tightly, like if he let you go the world would end. Feeling your soft sighs hit him every few seconds was enough to make his eyelids begin to droop, and hearing how even your breathing has gotten, he figured you had already fallen asleep, and finally allowed himself to breathe. You were safe, loved, and cared for. He’d just have to get some food in you when you two woke up from the nap.

THREE HOURS LATER

Your eyes slowly flutter open, the bright golden sunlight hitting them from between the gap in the curtains. Turning your body to face Matthew’s once more, you exhale slowly, trying to get out of the sleep haze you were in. Or maybe you were still under.

Perhaps your thinking was enough to wake Matthew, the dom side of him always just knowing when you were up. He groans lowly, tightening his arms around you to pull you tighter into his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head a few times.

“Still floaty, baby?” He softly asks, holding the back of your neck in his hand, the feeling so deeply comforting to the both of you. You shrug, muttering out, “dunno,” before looking up at him finally, seeing his tired eyes already crinkled from the wide smile on his face. You lean up to press a soft kiss on his lips, just holding them there and allowing Matthew to suck softly on your bottom lip, shushing the small whimper that comes out of you.

“Love you, baby,” he whispers, smiling softly when you repeat it back to him. “You know you’re my good, perfect girl, yeah? Gave me a good fright seeing you so sad over me,” he frowns, tracing your cheek with his thumb. You nod slowly, whispering “good girl,” to yourself, smiling when Matthew tugs you closer to him, thumb moving down to play with your bottom lip.

“Feel like I should also let you know I changed into a pair of clean shoes when I got home, don’t want my girl to actually be dirty,” and you whine into his chest, blushing at his loud chuckle.

“Who knew I had a squirter as my little love? Why’d you hide that from me?” Matthew fake pouts, and you blush, trying to hide your face in your hands, but Matthew’s quick to pull them away by your wrists. Trailing a hand slowly down your face, he turns your jaw to examine the bruises on your neck, small, but distinct fingerprints outlined on your otherwise unblemished skin. He tuts, to himself mostly, placing his fingers over the purple marks and lightly pressing down, reveling in the gasp you release.

“Such a shame your pretty pussy’s much too sore to take me, because I’m doing that again and again and again to you, very soon, my dear.”

A/N: so...... yeah. lol. i’m sorry ? idk what to say after this. that was a lot. hope you liked it !!! i’m ASS at taking requests (seeing as this took over a month) but i’m going to see if i can get into blurbs or little drabbles or whatever they’re called hehe so send in requests !! (i’ll have to dm you for clarification for my piece of mind if it’s a long piece, so expect that haha)

- lana xx

#matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid #dom mgg #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #spencer reid smut #daddy matthew #daddy mgg

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answrs · 2 years

Text

meet-cute poly skulls

(I haven’t written anything more than like 3 sentences in over a year and I’m absolutely ECSTATIC to have finally found inspiration again, especially for the msa ot3. I’ve been reading a few witcher fics with the trope and i very much could NOT resist the siren’s call of lewvithur)

this is pretty stream of consciousness as most of my stuff seems to be, so not for everyone, but I’m really happy with it! ^^

(in a universe where arthur does not move to tempo before college)

Vivi and Lewis were childhood sweethearts, they dated in highschool but separated amicably after graduation because they didn't want to risk a long distance relationship when vi went off to a remote college program while Lewis stayed at the restaurant to help out the family and decide what he wanted to do for the future (or Vivi stayed to work at the store - possibly duet is considering her for becoming a new owner? or just research while doing her online degree, while Lewis goes off to culinary school. think i actually like that idea better so hey! let's go with that instead) Arthur is attending an engineering school or the like in the same college town as Lewis, and meets him at an event held by the culinary school. Arthur is a starved college student and hey, free food, when he stumbles into a very attractive man at the pastries table. (possibly probably literally, including a classic 'oh god I'm so sorry you have frosting on your shirt I'm sorry let me help' as Lewis is trying to brush it off because hey, don't worry, accidents happen in a crowded place like this, his sisters have certainly done much worse intentionally.) arthur insists on getting him a coffee at least to pay him back and whoops they fall into dating after one coffee turns into several and they get to know each other more. at the same time in the background, Arthur is going through shit with his parents and is planning on moving his stuff to an uncle estranged from the family for the same reasons (Lance, who had reached out to him a year or so back when the drama started. Queer!Lance Rights!) as they disown him. Lewis knows it's a very sensitive subject and doesn't ask prying questions as long as he knows Arthur is safe and okay with things (another reason it's good to have him be the Away datemate, since while i love her i think Vivi would definitely press more, want to know where exactly this mysterious relative lives and would quickly figure out the plot twist lmao) arthur eventually takes a semester off to move his stuff and take a bit to recover from his family's cruel final treatment, while connecting more with Lance. he wanders into a local bookshop one day and is greeted by a very cute (and very blue) woman behind the counter. Vivi is a bit of a flirt and flusters him a bit (turns out this new guy is absolutely adorable when he blushes!) but backs off quickly when he says he's flattered but he has a boyfriend. after an awkward pause he stutters a bit but coughs and says he might be interested but only if his boyfriend was okay with it. (certainly helps she has her various pride pins on her lanyard with her more geeky ones, otherwise there's no way in hell he'd out himself like that) I've run out of steam for the more detailed stuff rn but ideas? nvm screw it here's more blocked out Lewis doesn't go home on breaks for the most part because of money constraints, arthur would be in the same boat minus the exception of moving his stuff to lance's. the culinary school has a very nice student kitchen for the dorms, and lew really loves cooking for artie on their date nights when possible. art and vi mostly have dates through video games and text, while Arthur is assured Lewis is okay with him also dating someone else when they're together he doesn't want him feeling like a second choice (yay internalized projecting of family issues!) so he reserves calls and video chats with her for when he's at his own dorm or Lew has classes. Lew and vi both chat, they're still great friends, but neither wanna jinx their new relationship (and also awkward since they only just recently broke up, even if they're still close) so keep it on the down-low, maybe a quick 'oh, uh, also I've started seeing someone but it's pretty new so i kinda don't wanna say too much yet, if that's okay?' 'oh, me too! yeah, same…' through various other contrived plot shenanigans the three never end up connecting the dots until the boys go home for summer break, promising to keep in touch, and Vivi takes Arthur to Paradiso to celebrate him coming back and to meet her best friend that just got home today! cue spiderman pointing meme as the three meet in the dining room

#lewvithur #vithur #lewthur #msa #mystery skulls animated #answrs writes

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magma-queen · 3 years

Text

I got into a crazy writing mood after writing that fix yesterday, so here’s some Hardenshipping fluff that no one asked for! 🤣 Enjoy! This was inspired by the brilliant @ticklepinions

“Maaaaaaaax..” Archie groaned, collapsing on their bed, head first. “Maaaaax…”

“Oh, for the love of God, Archie..” Maxie sat up, whacking him on his back with his book. “I am RIGHT HERE. What is it that you need?”

“Ubbles.” He said, muffled from laying against the mattress and covers.

“Uh, one more time?”

Archie twisted himself around and laid on his back, reaching his hand out to his husband.

“Cuddles. Now.”

Maxie smirked at him. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, then?” He scooted himself over to his side of the bed. “Come here, you big softy.”

Excitedly, he hopped over next to him and practically melted, enjoying his husband’s attention and loving touch. He laid his head in his lap.

“What the hell has gotten into you tonight? I’m used to you being all cuddly, but not THIS cuddly.” He blushed. “N-not that I’m complaining. Is there something wrong, Archie?”

“Nah..” he replied. “M’ just stressed out, that’s all.. I just needed some quality cuddle time with me hubby.”

Maxie chuckled. “I see.” He pet his head affectionately, then stroked his chin like a Skitty.

“M-Maxie!” Archie squeaked. “Ack- No! Bwahaha! Stop it!”

He raised an eyebrow. “But why? You look like you’re having so much fun~” He teased, keeping up the tickly touches at his husband’s neck and chin.

“Gahahahaha-!” He scrunched his neck up, pushing Maxie’s hands away. “Quit it!”

*chuckle* “At least I get a smile from you.”

Blushing, Archie sat back up, got into the covers, and wrapped his arms around Maxie’s waist, returning the cuddles.

“Mmm… Yer so damn warm…”

“I’ve literally spent most of my life near volcanoes, Archie. But you love it, anyway.”

Archie guffaws. “I sure as shit do..” He held him closer to his chest. “Hey, Max..?”

“Yes, Archie?” He questioned, looking up at him with curiosity.

His grip on him was gentle, but tighter.

“I know this is gonna sound really random… but I gotta tell ye… yer just like a stress ball.”

While he was telling him this, Maxie was grabbing a cup of water. (Yes. Water lmao) and he almost spit it out.

“*cough* A-A what??”

“A stress ball.” Archie repeated.

He just tilted his head in more confusion. “Archie, love of my life, I don’t understand. How am I like a stress ball? *snicker* I don’t stress myself out THAT much.”

“Well… it’s because ye calm me down every time I’m stressed.”

“Oh. I see. How sweet of you to say.”

Archie then smirked. “But….”

???

Maxie knew what the look on his face meant. “What are you-“

“Heh.. the only difference between ye and a real stress ball…” He grasped both of his sides.

“AAAEEEE!!!”

“Is that ye squeak when I squeeze ye!” He cackled, continuing to squeeze his sides.

“N-Nohohohohohoho! Dohohohohon’t!!” He fell back giggling, trying to squirm out of Archie’s arms. Ahahahaharchihihihihie!!!” He squawked, flailing back and forth.

“Haha! I gotcha!” He teased, pinning him down and squeezing his hips next. “Yer beautiful laugh is what puts me at ease, babe.”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHAHARCHIHIHIHIE!! ST-STAHAHAHAHA-!” He wrapped his arms around his stomach, cackling.

“Mm? What was that, babe?” He teased, nuzzling his beard into his neck while squeezing his sides once more. “Didn’t hear ye. What did ye want?”

“STAHAHAHAP!! ST- *SNOOOOOOOORT*

Archie immediately halted, devious fingers pulling away from Maxie. His mouth was open wide, in shock and amusement. Maxie on the other hand was HORRIFIED and slapped his hand against his mouth.

“What… was that..?”

Maxie’s face turned beet red, and he covered his face with his hands. “N-Nohohothing!! J-Just stop!! You’re embarrassing me!”

He smirked even more. “Didn’t sound like nothin’.. I think I wanna hear that again.” He said as he dove his fingers up his husband’s armpits.

“ACK- GAAAAAAAH!!!! NOOOOHOHO ARCHIE GOD DAHAHAHAHAHAMN IHIHIHIHIHIT!!! AAAAAH!! NOHOHOHO!! *SNORT* ST-STAHAHAHAHOP!!!”

“Oh my god.” Archie was almost in tears, his husband was so fucking cute. He gave his hips another squeeze.

“F-FUHUHUHUHAHAHACK!!! *SNORT* AAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!! *snort snort* STOP!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” He begged, arching his back and trying to wriggle his skinnier body away. No such luck. (Suffer, nerd)

“Hehe.. what’s the matter, Max? Ticklish?” Archie chuckled, easing his tickles a bit so he could answer him. “There’s no way that the leader of Team Magma could be this ticklish.”

“Lehehehehet mehehehe go, Archihihie…” He gasped, clenching his hands at his wrists, thinking that it will stop Archie from tickling him further.

News flash, it won’t. (Lmao)

“Or ehehelse…”

He smirked at Maxie and kissed his forehead. “Or else what, Max? You can’t stop the tickle monster, never can, never will.” He growled, tightening his grip on him, near ready to pounce again. “Damn, ye look so precious like this… I love ye so much..”

This embarrassed the Magma leader to no end. He thanked God that no one could see him so vulnerable, well… except Archie. He struggled, but it was no use. Archie was too strong and he was too weak.

“Me little stress ball~” The Aqua purred, nuzzling his beard into his neck once more, and giving his sides one more gentle squeeze, making Maxie squirm even more.

“No- St-Stohohohohop!” He giggled, trying to turn his head away from his rough, fuzzy beard. “A-Archie-! Hehehehehehe-!”

“Aww, c’mon… Don’t be like that… Ye know ye love my rough beard~ *nuzzle*

The man could only choke out giggles from his mouth, and at this point, he’s completely given up on trying to escape. He was too exhausted. Archie added kisses, which definitely did NOT help it tickle less.

“Hahahahaha- hehehehe A-ARCHIE! No!! Th-Thahahahahat tickles-!”

After a good while, he finally stopped, letting Maxie breathe.

“Ye alright, hun?” Archie finally asked, after nuzzling and kissing him to death. “M’ sorry… yer laugh is such a wonderful sound to me ears… *kiss* Forgive me?”

“Perhaps…” Maxie sighed. “If only I can do one thing.” There was playfulness in his tone.

Archie looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that, Max?”

“THIS!”

And with that, Maxie practically tackled the bigger man onto the bed and shoved his hands into his armpits.

“GAH-!! F-FUCKAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Archie’s boisterous laughter filled the entire room. “MAHAHAHAHAHAX!!! *WHEEZE* WAHAHAHAHAIT!!!”

“Oh, I’m done waiting, dear.” He smirked. “You deserve this more than you think you do.”

Tears had already sprang in Archie’s eyes, clamping his arms down only trapped Maxie’s hands, making his demise much worse.

“ST-STAAHAAAAHAHAAHAAHAP!! MAX PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! I’M BEHEHEHEGGIN YEHEHEHEHEHE!!!”

“Mm.. I don’t think so.” He smiled, lowering his hands to Archie’s sides and tickling faster. “Now that you had mentioned it, your laugh is just as wonderful~ why would I stop now when I can make you sing such a sweet melody?”

Flustered, Archie covered his blushing face, laughing harder.

“HAHAHA- GAHAHAHAHAHA!! *WHEEZE* STAHAHAHAP TEHEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE! HAHA- THAHAHAT’S NOT FAHAHAIR!!”

*smirk*

“Who said anything about teasing? I’m only speaking the truth, my love.”

Their fight continued, and neither of them noticed Shelly walk into their bedroom, yawning.

“You two are being so loud in here, I swear to god… Courts and I can’t sleep.. Tab and Matt neither.” She groaned, but she immediately found it amusing to see her best friend and leader getting his shit wrecked by Maxie of all people. “You, uh.. you okay there, Arch?” She’s never seen him laughing so hard.

“SHEHEHEHELLY FOR THE LOHOHOVE OF GOHOHOHOD HEHEHELP!!!”

“Help?” She grinned. “Okay, then.. I’ll help.”

She walked over to them and whispered something into Maxie’s ear. This made him chuckle evilly and grab both of Archie’s ankles.

“NO! DON’T YOU DA- GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Maxie clawed his fingers at his husband’s feet. And Shelly was watching back, laughing.

“You said to help! And I did!”

“I MEHEHEHEHEANT HEHEHEHELP ME!!!!! NOHOHOHOT HIHIHIHIHIM-! GAH- MAHAXIE!! STAHAHAP!!!”

Maxie just smiled and kept up the attack. He began mocking him. “What’s the matter, Archie? Ticklish?”

“GAHAHAHA- FUHUHUCK YOU- AAAAAH!!!” He screamed when Maxie attacked his knees.

“There’s no way the leader of Team Aqua could be this ticklish.” He continued to mock.

“OKAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY!! I’M SAHAHAHARRY!!! JUHUHUST STOP!!!”

Maxie decided that Archie had had enough. He released him and let him fall back on the bed, gasping for air.

Shelly walked out the door. “Now Goodnight, goofballs! Don’t make me come back in here, or you’re BOTH going to get it! The rest of us need beauty sleep! Especially me!” Then she closed the door.

Maxie leaned his head down and kissed his husband’s cheek.

“Are you alright, Archie?”

“Yeheheheheah…” He laughed, letting Maxie lay down next to him. “M’ okahahay..”

“Is it alright if we fall asleep like this?”

“Heh, whatever you want, babe..” Archie held him close. “Max?”

He looks at him. “Yes?”

“I love ye.”

“I love you too.”

#Pokemon #Hardenshipping #Maxie #Archie #Tickling #Fanfiction #My fic #My fics #Text

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infested-tea · 3 years

Text

Bakusquad LGBT Headcanons

Whoops... haven’t posted in a while... whoops.

Anyway, for this I decided some Bakusquad gay hc. And maybe some shipping lmao. Now, BakuKiri is valid but I prefer TodoBaku. But both are great. For this imma go with TodoBaku and KiriDenki because preference. Also, if anyone starts fighting about ships in comments I’m coming for you toes.

Anyway, enjoy!

Katsuki Bakugo

This boy....

Oh god this boy

Three syllables

DISASTER

Oh yeah he’s gay

Gay disaster

Very angrily a disaster

Bakugo strikes me as a tsundere. As he does for everybody

But combined with his... tendencies...

He becomes a walking balm of internalized gay anger

He fears being outed because homophobia is fun

But since all of Class 1-A knows, they just don’t say anything

Only openly out to the Bakusquad, and Todoroki

Like I said, dating Todoroki

Or Kirishima depending on how I feel

Either way, he is a clingy, angry tsundere with both

Will avidly defend his friends and himself or anyone from any kind of bigotry

Very... passionate... lgbt supporter

May or may not have cried the night he came out to the bakusquad. Both before and after. And may or may not have been happy tears.

Also the kind of person who screams at you to die while absolutely showering you in love and trying to make you feel like the most valid person ever. But does it in his usual Bakugo tsundere way.

He has hit everyone in the Bakusquad and his boyfriend with their respective flags while shouting vaguely threatening words of love and validation at them. This has happened to everyone at least once. Todoroki, Jirou, and Denki are the most common victims.

Also. Trans Bakugo deserves rights

When it comes to being trans, Bakugo has no issue with it

Neither do his parents

But like with him being a filthy gay degen- *gets exploded* OW!!

Anyway, like him with his homosmexualness, he’s scared to come out about it

Mind you, his parents are also avid supporters for the gay community

But he himself has seen and heard things and it scares him

As well as those morons in middle school who he came out too (not willingly) but teased him about it and made stupid comments, they didn’t hate him but were more so ignorant

Has experienced actual hatred before, especially middle school (maybe projected on Midoriya a little...)

But, this boy was so relieved when he came out to his friends and especially Todoroki

Maybe the human population isn’t so bad after all, huh you angry ball of rainbows and anger

Also. Ace bb

Eijirou Kirishima

The resident sunshine shark puppy

He flips between functional and disaster depending on the day

Is extremely open about him being pan, since it’s the manliest thing to do

And he is the manliest

He is also avid supporter and defender of the lgbt

Since Kirishima is the other backbone of the Bakusquad, he’s great for when ya need some comfort

This baby boi just wants to be loved and will love you back tenfold

Best hugger in class 1-a fight me

Broken gaydar

Denki Kaminari

(This was the first gif... y’all really horny huh?)

The biggest bi disaster

Also chaotic

Unintentionally chaotic

Like, he goes in with intentions of chaos, then somehow it ends up being worse then it should’ve been

Goddamnit Denki, is now Bakugo’s favorite phrase

Best gay friends with Sero and Mina

Absolutely falls hard

Sure, he’s a flirt, but that’s just Denki being Denki

He’s so much worse when he falls in love

Not a flirt. No no. Absolute blushing mess

Bf do be Kiri tho

(Why is he the person I have the most ships with like damn...)

His gaydar is absolutely fucking broken. Like my god you could be Aoyama levels of obvious and it’d go straight over his head

Gaydar is so bad he usually ends up flirting with lesbians or already taken people

He never touches a dude because he doesn’t want people thinking he’s already weirder than he is

Bad social anxiety, so he stayed quiet about being bi

Than Sero asked... he denied it

It failed

Now he’s out and semi-proud

Does have sad days where he feels anxious and albeit ashamed

But he’s with the two biggest cuddlers with Sero and Kiri so it’s fine

Or if you want to be saucy, soft boy Shinso or Ojiro

Hanta Sero

This dumbass

Non-binary (he/they) demisexual biromantic boi

Since I hc as the most observant person (emotionally anyways) his gaydar is by far the strongest

He picked up on fucking Todoroki... that man looks straighter than his dad is sucks

Also the one who picks up the crushes before the people even do

Motherfucker could tell you who’s gonna end up with who before they even realize that they like each other

*cough* Bakugo and Todoroki *cough cough*

Poly relationship with Denki and Kiri. Fight me

Mina Ashido

Best girl

Ace lesbian

Makes a great chaotic couple with Mei Hatsume

Chaotic lesbian and she knows it

She is also disaster

Bad kind of disaster

She uh... once tried to bake a pride cake for pride month and nearly burned down the entire dorm

Denki was also there... that didn’t help

Also the resident shipper of Bakusquad and Class 1-A (alongside Hagakure and Ochako)

She absolutely got 8/10 couples together in 1-A... and also 1-B

ShinoMa anyone?

Absolutely has tricked Denki multiple times to wear dresses

Doesn’t have to trick Sero, he just does it

Adores Mei and is soft about it

Kyouka Jirou

Badass bi anyone?

Bisexual disaster

But very quietly dies unlike the other three on here

She can try and smooth it over and play it off

Doesn’t work all the time

Trans female

And I love her

Gay with Yaomomo

Hangs out with Sero and Bakugo a lot as trans squad and they end up laughing at the four other dumbasses they have sadly befriended

The head of the Bakusquad, especially at pride

Absolutely fucking listens to Against Me! and Jayne County and whatever other trans musician you can think of

Absolutely vibing with Sero while listen to Girl in Red, Cavetown, or the other two

And jams with Bakugo and Denki with those as well

On bad, dysphoric days, the squad bakes all her favorite foods, grab her girlfriend, and hang out and chill

Some general pride month headcanons

Like I’ve mentioned, vibing with Cavetown and Girl in Red

Also jamming with Jayne County and Laura Jayne Grace and whomever else Jirou found that week

At pride, Kirishima is at the bbq with Tetsutetsu (they have rainbow gay meat come on!)

Bakugo is trying to stop Todoroki from wondering off and getting lost, especially at first pride parade since it was his first time and Shoto is absolute dumbass

One year while still going to UA, Shoto and Denki picked up on an anxious Momo and sad Jirou and Sero just... announced how gay they were for each other.

Later that month, the two girls got together due to a party thrown just for them put together by Sero, Shoto, Denki, and Mina

It’s a tradition to watch whatever the gayest show out at the time is and finish it before the month is over as a group

SU is Denki and Kiri’s favorite.

Bakugo hates it cuz the diamonds piss him off

Soooooo, they have to stop halfway through the gay wedding episode

Todoroki joins in on the shows because he has nothing better to do (but really it’s because he’s lonely and craves affection... bb)

Also, when Bakugo came out. Sero won a bet with Mina. Not on him not being gay. But Mina thought he was bi.

Mina was wrong

And now it’s a tradition for Sero to make bets with the other squad members on who’s what shade of gay and then win because he’s right 100% of the time (and Bakugo just started betting WITH Sero because he got tired of losing. Denki and Mina do not give up however. And Kiri switches sides a lot.)

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shijiujun · 4 years

Note

“you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right” au for moshang plz sqh singing modern songs that mbj doesn't know and being hella confused 🥺

Featuring karaoke-loving Shang Qinghua who gets a bit too drunk at a Cang Qiong mountain gathering, and he goes all out.

Or when Mobei Jun wonders why Shang Qinghua is singing about another man called Liang Shan Bo.

---

Sometimes, he thinks about his old life before he ever had the misfortune of landing in a world of his own creation, with an annoying gaming AI system of sorts hounding his every move (in the beginning) or turning up at the most inopportune times just when he thinks it’s finally gone and left him alone (more recently).

Shang Qinghua remembers not having many friends when he was still Shang Qinghua, when ‘向天打飞机 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ was still merely his writing Weibo account moniker and when he had millions of people looking up to him for his crucial contributions in writing this amazing story about his son Luo Binghe and the way he overcame all odds to become a success with a harem of gorgeous women at his feet (damn you, Peerless Cucumber bro!).

Back in those days, he lived off cup noodles and instant coffee. If he didn’t have to leave the house, Shang Qinghua would simply curl up in front of his laptop, either writing for his novel or watching shows (clears his throat) - actual shows! Chinese period dramas were his favourite, where a skilled and intelligent consort in the harem would outwit all the other women to be with her one true love, the Emperor, who falls irrevocably in love with her.

And when he got bored, he switched from the laptop to his television to engage in his second most favourite hobby - Chinese karaoke. Going out to a karaoke bar would require some level of socializing, and also a few friends so he gets more bang out of his buck from what he pays for the room, but at home?

With advanced technology and a tiny ass microphone in either shining gold or silver, Shang Qinghua’s home entertainment system was his very own personal karaoke room, His tiny mic even had that echo-y effect on.

Shang Qinghua has a thing for classic Chinese songs - ‘The New Butterfly Dream’, ‘Liang Shan Bo and Juliet’, The Moon Represents My Heart‘ - and contemporary karaoke must-haves, like Wang Fei. For an embarrassing few days, the Chinese version of Baby Shark was a veritable earworm as well.

After transmigrating into his own story set in ancient times, where he lives without technology, Shang Qinghua would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the Internet. Laptops would be incredibly handy, and so would switches for lights, definitely indoor plumbing for toilets, and induction stoves. Phones too, that would be nice, rather than having to ‘send word’ with letters.

Of course, there is no karaoke bar or machine for him.

Not all is bad though. At least he transmigrated to Shang Qinghua in this world as a baby, so it’s not as if he was surviving on Internet and technology one day and left to do everything manually the next day since someone was always taking care of him. Peerless Cucumber bro, of course, wasn’t as lucky, but the man has definitely taken to this world (and his son!!) like a fish to water.

And as for himself, Shang Qinghua does not need to envy Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe either, because somehow, he has gotten the man of his dreams too, even if said man was a little cruel and rude to him in the beginning.

He has the love of his life (coughs coughs) and they’re stuck in this world for the rest of his life. What more is there to want? Not to mention how his cup of instant noodles betrayed him at the last moment, resulting in his death! It is slightly safer, ironically, to be in this world instead.

All is good except... well...

===

Shen Qingqiu marvels at the sight before him, torn between wanting to step in to stop Shang Qinghua, or watch this farce unfold.

He sometimes forgets where he, or where Shang Qinghua, who has been in this world longer than he, came from. They don’t always talk about the past when they meet, and aside from the occasional meetups, Shen Yuan is a part of him that doesn’t surface, not when he is with Luo Binghe.

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, grew up here, and aside from referring to Shen Qingqiu by his Weibo account name, he seems otherwise well-adjusted, no hint of modern online writer Shang Qinghua in sight. It doesn’t feel as if he misses their original world either.

This evening, however, memories of modern times slap him in the face, quite literally.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe calls, frantic, tugging him back into his embrace out of Shang Qinghua’s way. Once Shen Qingqiu is safe in his arms, his eyes narrow at the bumbling, drunk idiot causing a scene in the dinner hall, “Shang Qinghua...”

Shang Qinghua stops where he is, and then before any one can stop him, he picks up a pair of chopsticks, brings it to his mouth, and begins bellowing his way through-

-Jay Chou’s Hair Like Snow.

“Shizun, are you alright?” Luo Binghe fusses, his hands coming up to cup Shen Qingqiu’s face when his Shizun doesn’t so much as respond to him. “Were you hurt? Did he hurt you? How’re you feeling? We’ll go back home now-”

“What is he singing?” Qi Qingqi frowns in disgust.

They all wince when Shang Qinghua attempts to hit a high note, but fails miserably.

Fuck me, Shen Qingqiu thinks, his eyes impossibly wide, who knew Airplane bro was such a karaoke fanatic?

“... maybe he is possessed by a malevolent spirit? Or perhaps this is an unidentified curse?” asks Ming Fan.

“Or is this some new form of cultivation?” asks Ning Yingying, curious.

Yue Qingyuan, seated at the front of the dining hall, cannot help but be concerned for him as well. “Shall we call Mu-shidi to take a look at him-”

They’ve gathered for their annual meeting - a condition that Yue Qingyuan has set in place a few years ago after Luo Binghe ‘stole’ (married!) him away from Cang Qiong Peak - and although Shang Qinghua said he didn’t mind that Mobei Jun was unable to accompany him today, he spent most of the dinner drinking alcohol while in a melancholic state instead.

Who knew that Shang Qinghua was a singing drunk?!

Hence their current predicament.

At the Sect Master’s words, Shang Qinghua suddenly turns around and looks at Shen Qingqiu. HIccuping twice, he then beams, “Cucumber-”

Shen Qingqiu has never moved that fast in his life. Within a fraction of a second, he has his hand pressed over Shang Qinghua’s mouth, holding onto him from the back.

“Cucumber?” everyone choruses in confusion.

“I believe your Shang-shishu has had a little too much to drink,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, nodding at everyone else. “We should... send him back to Mobei. Isn’t that right, Binghe?”

His disciple, his husband, still has on an affronted, murderous look for how Shang Qinghua almost brained Shen Qingqiu with his flailing arms in his drunken fit. The moment Shen Qingqiu asks, however, his expression morphs into something so soft and full of love that everyone who sees it chokes.

“Of course,” Luo Binghe smiles, devotion apparent in his eyes. “Anything Shizun wants.”

===

The words that are tumbling out of Shang Qinghua’s mouth are entirely incomprehensible, and so are the tunes he’s humming into his ear.

Mobei Jun thought he had gotten used to Shang Qinghua’s eccentric mannerisms, and also thought he knew everything about his husband, so many years later. Shang Qinghua is mumbling Chinese alright, but none of the characters put together make any sense.

Who is Liang Shan Bo? And who the hell is Juliet?!

His mood taking a turn for the worse, Mobei Jun hoists Shang Qinghua up further on his back.

After getting so drunk, the idiot had the gall to demand for a piggy-back from the throne room to their bedroom. Mobei Jun has never once suffered such indignity in his years of living. A bridal carry? Of course, anytime. A piggy-back? As if he was some beast to be tamed?

Well this definitely has to be a first.

While he was stewing in his thoughts, Shang Qinghua switches from that song to another one, and a stream of ‘du du du lu du lu’ emerges from his lips... AND something about... a sha yu? What the hell is that?!

Shang Qinghua lazily lifts his right hand as they approach their room, balls it into a fist and puts it to his mouth, as if he’s holding something, and whatever monstrosity Shang Qinghua is singing, his voice gets even louder.

Mobei Jun tosses Shang Qinghua off his back unceremoniously and onto the soft bed. Interrupted, Shang Qinghua blinks, his vision blurry, and is about to catch his breath and start singing again when his husband climbs in after him. Trapping Shang Qinghua with his entire weight, Mobei Jun seals his lips with a kiss.

“... My king...” Shang Qinghua murmurs in a daze, when Mobei Jun pulls back a few minutes later, his breaths coming out as short, harsh pants. “My king...”

“That’s right,” he says with a glower. “I’m your Da Wang, your husband.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t know who Liang Shan Bo is, but he’s going to make sure no other man’s name ever leaves Shang Qinghua’s lips again when they’re together.

And when his husband finally sobers up, he’s going to have a lot to answer for.

---

Songs Mentioned (YouTube Links in Comments):

The New Butterfly Dream 新鸳鸯蝴蝶梦－ A Chinese classic, sung by Huang An but done beautifully by legendary god of singing Fei Yu Qing and singing partner for the song A Yun Ga

Liang Shan Bo and Juliet 梁山伯与朱丽叶－ A Taiwanese contemporary classic of sorts by Genie Zhuo, most Chinese millennials would definitely have sang this at a karaoke once in their lives - Song is inspired by Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet to some extent - They both die in the end and become butterflies, so they’re also called the Butterfly Lovers.

The Moon Represents My Heart 月亮代表我的心－ ANOTHER CLASSIC CLASSIC!!!

Baby Shark (Chi. Ver) － ˆThe baby shark hype did move to China, and it’s pretty hilarious LMAO and in Chinese, shark is 鲨鱼 (sha yu) but I’m assuming that in this world, there isn’t a shark kind of animal of sorts? So Mobei Jun and everyone else except SQQ wouldn’t know what a shark is or looks like?!

Hair Like Snow 发如雪－ By Jay Chou, another classic that all Chinese millennials would have sang in a karaoke bar

Wang Fei 王妃－ Jam Hsiao’s version is known best, and it’s pretty epic, not that anyone can reach any of the high notes in the chorus, but does that stop us from trying?!! Hell no!!!

---

Notes: My first Moshang?!! That didn’t really have a lot of Moshang time?! But thanks anon, hope this sort of works?!

#svsss #scumbag villain #穿书自救指南 #渣反派自救系统 #scumbag system #moshang #bingqiu #mobei jun #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #everyone else is somewhere there except my bb lqg #and anw karaoke sqh!!!!

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midoriyashotos · 3 years

Text

Anguish of the Quirkless

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shoto (could be platonic... though I ship them a lot lmao)

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shoto; MENTIONED - Bakugo Katsuki

Summary: Izuku doesn’t explode.

But burn after burn, he can’t take it anymore.

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: I had no reason to write this other than the fact I’ve been really angry and I needed to write something down.

I guess this is technically my first Tododeku fic? But like, it isn’t the focus here, so interpret it the way you want (if you can). I hope this didn’t turn out to be too OOC, though.

Please be aware of the tags and disclaimers below. Be safe. <3

TRIGGER WARNINGS - childhood trauma, past bullying/abuse and injury

*NOT BAKUGO/BAKUDEKU FRIENDLY!

Izuku doesn’t explode.

If anything, he’s more than scared of explosions. The explosions that silence him, that burn his tongue and his arms and legs, and the notebook of his fanboyish train of thought. The blasts that keep happening no matter how far away he is.

So no, he doesn’t explode. He probably can’t.

Though every time he stares at the blond spikes of his classmate, Izuku is sickened by a cocktail of years of combustions.

Maybe he does admire the beauty of the explosions when far away. Depending on them, they can actually be quite beautiful when done for the greater good. But when he’s so near, to try to reach them, Izuku gets injured. It’s probably his fault to begin with.

But even with patience and care, Izuku is always exploded back to where he’s been stuck in since he was four.

Izuku is always behind Katsuki. He can’t go around him and walk away. He can’t push him aside, he can’t as much as talk to him. Katsuki will forever be a wall, a minefield that will remain activated until the end of time.

And most importantly, Izuku can never explode back.

He hates explosions, after all.

The flaming blend of feelings, however, reach his mind at times he should be feeling okay.

The image of himself exploding Katsuki, of yelling at him, beating the crap out of him sickens the young hero to no end.

But it replays in his head still, even when they’re not fighting and instead having fun with their other classmates. Izuku stares at Katsuki for mere seconds and the thoughts come to him. The freckled boy swallows it all back, until it comes to haunt him at night. Until the burns sting his arms and his heart.

Izuku has tense nights, yet he never explodes. Ever.

You’d think Izuku would be happy here. He is happy, though, to be where he’s dreamed of for so long.

But each day that passes, he seems to get worse, he’s sick and tired and angry, and the combustions are closer to his heart. The fantasies become more violent, they’re disturbing. Izuku stains his hands, massacring the remaining of blond hair and hateful red eyes.

Izuku could never take blood from someone. It’s awful – he’s being awful. What would others think? What would everyone else think? All Might, his mother, his friends?

Izuku knows he can cry, but what about the rage? What about the ticking bomb inside him? The bomb that might be close to destroying all around him?

He can’t let anyone see.

Least of all Katsuki.

Thankfully, U.A. owns several gymnasiums for the students to train. Few, though, are somewhat left aside due to the new ones, but they don’t really close them. His classmates don’t seem to use them either, as far as he’s concerned.

Izuku finds the classic training tools, including several, big punching bags – different from those you see in common gyms, obviously. They’re able to take up a lot more damage, useful for physical-focused quirks.

He prepares and attacks. Holding it back, Izuku knows to be careful, to protect others. He hates explosions. He hates hurting others.

(All everyone has ever done was hurt him. Why? He was powerless. Quirkless. Deku.)

(That’s why he reclaimed the name, to transform it into someone who could be trusted, someone who could never hurt.)

Izuku kicks, dodges, as if in a real fight. He gives the bag mercy. Probably unnecessary.

(No one gave him mercy.)

(Midoriya Izuku, a boy who could never do wrong, who did nothing but exist.)

(He was exploded like no one ever was.)

The boy’s hands shine red with One for All, as do his eyes. The punching bag absorbs the power, becoming harder to punch and overcome. Izuku continues to spare it, to no avail.

(No matter what he does, he’ll continue to be blasted on the face.)

(Whether he’s powerless or not. The explosions will punish him until he’s gone.)

It’s then that the bag’s energy turns against him and blows him away, Izuku falling back and failing, once again.

It’s all too familiar.

Izuku roars.

He advances with his all, at the same speed as Gran Torino’s, but with a rage unknown to others. A rage from no hero. Heroes don’t feel hate, only towards evil – yet never, never to this extent. With revenge comes nothing. No hero should be selfish.

(This doesn’t come from a hero. It comes from… a boy? A monster?)

And Izuku is attacking the bag with no barriers holding him back. The second time it attacks, Izuku doesn’t let himself fall again. He returns at full speed and destroys the bag. He’s yelling this entire time, his throat hurting yet he’s far from quitting.

“WHY?!” Izuku demands from the bag. “WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

As always, he gets no answer, only blows and ignorance. And he’s punching it again.

The red of the bag infuriates him, it’s all he sees, and he wants to eradicate.

All those years, all that time never fighting back, never looking for solutions after years of rejections; they all come back to stab him again.

You’re useless.

Pathetic.

You need to deal with it.

“You RUINED MY LIFE!” Izuku screams, eyes shut but red, dams overflowing. “AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!”

Despite his cries and punches, they’re not moving, they’re not listening. When have they ever? When?

“I HATE YOU!” Izuku yells, his most disliked words. He’d never say to anyone.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

“I

HATE

YOU!!! ”

CRASH!

He yelps at the force thrown back at him. Smoke enters his nose, painful coughs echoing.

When Izuku looks back, he gasps without making a sound.

He didn’t destroy just one bag – it fired back and damaged the other ones, now abandoned on the floor.

And even then—

Izuku growls and punches the floor, this time without any power left.

He’s still burning.

It doesn’t matter. It never matters.

Now everything smokes and suffocates him, and he’s crying the most he’s ever did.

That’s why he hates explosions.

Izuku doesn’t go to Recovery Girl, nor does he tell anyone. He hopes Aizawa-sensei never finds out what he’d done. He looked for cameras and, thankfully, found none.

He lies to his friends he trained in the woods and got a little ahead of himself. As a response, Uraraka tells him to be careful and Iida insists Quirk training should be balanced for him, as a hero in training. Two important statements, of course.

Todoroki, however, observes.

It’s the most he does. Todoroki watches and sees all, barely saying much. He reads people like no one else does. He was the first to realize something would go wrong with Iida, when the latter had wanted to seek his brother’s almost assassin.

This is different, though. So much different.

Izuku ignores it the best he can.

Late at night, he can’t sleep. The green-eyed boy sneaks in the kitchen, to grab some tea to make. His classmates seem to have healthy sleep schedules, especially when exams are out of the scene.

So slow steps take him off guard, and Izuku hides his arms under his sleeves.

“Midoriya.”

He sighs deeply. “Oh, Todoroki-kun… it’s just you. What’s up?”

Todoroki shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh. Me neither.”

“Hm.”

Todoroki is doing it again, he can tell. Watching him. (Judging.)

Izuku hates being watched – he’s watched the entire time.

The tea doesn’t take much longer to be ready, so Izuku barely bats an eye to Todoroki and makes his way to the stairs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles.

“Wait, Midoriya—”

“What ?”

Izuku regrets the moment he hisses, but he’s so tired.

“Just…” his classmate hesitates. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Todoroki’s tone has… softened.

Izuku doesn’t turn around.

“… Good night, Todoroki-kun.”

The days go by like usual. It’s like nothing happened. No one has found out, or so he hopes.

Todoroki hasn’t talked to him since that night. Or well, Izuku tries to avoid looking at him for too long in the first place. They have lunch together with the rest, but there’s no direct contact at all.

Todoroki isn’t the kind of person you can make excuses. He reads into your tone, he knows something is wrong. While Izuku’s relationship with him has definitely improved since the Sports Festival and Stain, he still finds that aspect of him a little intimidating. Because Todoroki, in contrast, is hard to read most of the time.

Izuku might as well be avoiding him. Of course, he’s polite when Todoroki has a question or when he asks for a favor. Though he rejects the suggestion they train together in the next day. Mostly, because Izuku’s wounds still sting, and he refuses to go to the infirmary.

At last, Izuku finds himself going to the old gymnasium, with no intention to seethe like before, even if the urge screams in his brain. It looks… the same, on the outside. As for the inside…

Instead of the gray smoke and destroyed reds, Izuku stops as soon as he catches white strands connected to wine, fire red. A fire that doesn’t explode, but fire, nonetheless.

Izuku’s veins fill with One for All, and before he goes Full Cowling to get as far away as possible, he’s less than lucky to expose himself.

“Midoriya?”

Nononononono—

Even though Todoroki isn’t using his Quirk, Izuku feels like he’s frozen by his giant ice spikes, caught to explain himself.

Why on earth is Todoroki here? Does he also know this spot? Oh, of course. Todoroki often trains alone but Izuku never knew where. Oh my god.

There are no words shared or spoken, least of all whispered. Izuku can’t bring himself to look up. There’s only shame to be shared. No one was supposed to find out and yet he just revealed himself. Stupid. Idiot!

A step.

“Midoriya…”

Izuku shakes his head.

“I know what you’re going to say.”

Todoroki stops. “What?”

“… that I’m supposed to be a hero, right? That I shouldn’t have done this? I- I know I shouldn’t have.” Izuku clenches his jaw and his fists, to contain the trembling rage. “I shouldn’t be angry.”

The fallen punching bags stare.

“But I didn’t know what to do with this anger. It only kept growing and- and it keeps growing inside of me, these thoughts, this scream in my throat,” Izuku spits out without much thought. “I’ve been hurt my entire life and I hate- I hate hurting people back, I hate wanting to hurt them, but I hate them, too, I hate-!” For a moment, he bites back the poisonous name, yet he can’t take it anymore, he’s tired of being silenced by the explosions.

“… I hate Kacchan. I hate that he always explodes me in the face, I hate that he used to go after other kids, too. He always explodes and hurts people, and he doesn’t give a shit.” Izuku’s tone is wet, soaked with weight. “He doesn’t give a shit about me, he still hurts me no matter what I do, and I’m sick of it. And god, all I want is to punch his fucking face and scream, because he never cared about making me cry or burning me at all, he- he doesn’t care! And I don’t know why I still do, why I even try to communicate with him! Nothing I do is enough for him!”

Izuku observes the multiple layers of old wood under his feet, each second finding new details, new splinters.

“This is why I don’t explode. Why I never burst out. I-I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I’m still so angry, Todoroki-kun. I’m only feeling worse than before.” The freckled teen pathetically dries his drowned face. “It’s like nothing is ever going to get better.”

The temperature is a bitter cold, despite the sun outside.

Izuku cries like that boy he’d known in Middle School, the one that would weep to himself in the shadows after getting burned on the face.

“W-What should I do?” He asks to no one.

It’s, again, a question without an answer.

Except…

His arms are taken by two hands that slowly pull up his sleeves, revealing the wounds from the hazard. The hands brush against his blistered skin as gently as possible. One hot, the other cold, but equally mindful.

“I think…” Todoroki whispers, “you need someone.”

Izuku’s face is close to the piercing gray and blue eyes, the ones who always read him… but not in judgment, he realizes. They read each sentence, each word of himself and take it to their heart, hopefully to come up with a meaningful response.

“Because then… who will protect you from the explosion?” Todoroki questions, his right hand reaching Izuku’s left.

The question is one he’s never considered. Izuku makes sure no one gets hurt, and maybe he’s successful at that, yet…

Todoroki’s face is close enough for their heads to touch, some of his red and white bangs touching Izuku’s forehead.

“It’s okay to be angry, Midoriya.”

“You’re… not mad at me?”

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku gulps, “I feel… disgusting.”

“I understand. But you’re not disgusting. You were hurt.”

Izuku’s mouth quivers. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

Todoroki’s hands move from his arms to his shoulders, pulling him forward. Izuku shivers.

He’s…

Todoroki has never hugged him before.

Sure, they’ve gotten so far as friends. But after all this time, they’ve never touched each other; least of all Todoroki, who is, reasonably, a more reserved person.

The hug is far from awkward, nonetheless. It’s… good. Izuku has never been hugged like this. Even with the crime scene of his anger right there for Todoroki and everyone else to see… the red-and-white-haired boy chooses to hold him.

(After all, he’s also a boy. A boy afraid of his thoughts. Afraid while no one knows.)

Izuku returns the contact, his face somewhat under Todoroki’s chin.

“I’m sorry Bakugo is a piece of shit.” He adds quietly, “Well, more than he already is.”

That manages to attract a miserable laugh.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

Izuku hums, not up to protest as he melts in his touch. He could never have imagined Todoroki to be this… comfortable.

The permanent smell of smoke and dust does eventually bother him, so Izuku suggests, “Want to get out of here?”

“Sure.”

And they leave the gymnasium behind, hopefully their secret will be left alone.

Todoroki takes Izuku to a tree, the leaves green like the latter’s hair. There’s enough of a shadow to cover them from the sun, from the burning flames far away. Todoroki helps a little with the burns, his ice the most soothing Izuku has felt.

Until the sun sets, their hands are intertwined, scars only they know.

#tododeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #anti bakugou #fanfiction #my hero academia #lotus writes #abuse tw #bullying tw #vent fic

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