Tumgik
#which on the one hand made him grow up quicker so he COULD be responsible but at the same time filled him with existential dread
decayedhearts · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
@soothsaer​ sent:   💭 + trey + trauma   [Send me a “💭“ and your Muse will experience one of my muse’s Memories]
Tumblr media
A sweet scent suddenly fills your nose and then you’re carried away on a cloud of cinnamon and apple, the school disappearing from your eyes and changing into a place you’ve never seen before..
It’s the big kitchen in the back of the bakery, the one where most of the baking happens. There’s a smaller area in the shop part too where some minor cake and cookie decorating is done, but that’s your father’s job and you’ve never helped him out there. Not yet. Some day you’ll be allowed to take over there as well. If you’re honest, it makes you nervous to think about - what if you mess up while people are watching? All that money wasted if you have to give it away for free (because who will buy messed up cake?), or worse, all that food wasted if mother decides to throw it away. Maybe you could sneak it out of the kitchen and give it to your sister, pretend you failed it on purpose so she could have some sweeties before bedtime. She’d probably like that.
“Trey, honey? Be careful not to let the dough dry up,” mother’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You look at the lump of dough you’ve been kneading and nod. “Yes, mum,” you promise, poking the soft mass with your fingers to see if it’s starting to crack. It’s still okay, but if you’re not careful, it’ll dry up like mother said. You’ve done this often enough by now to recognize its stages, you shouldn’t make mistakes like that anymore.
You start splitting the dough into smaller pieces, rolling little balls and placing them on the counter. They all need to be the same size or else the finished buns won’t turn out the same, some will burn while the others are still raw, and you won’t have time to check them all individually. There’s so much left to do for tomorrow and you’re already getting sleepy. You hear the front door opening, the familiar jingle of the bell distracting you for a moment, but you stay focused on your task. There was a time where you’d drop what you’re holding and run to greet father, but that time is past. “Your father is back,” mother says and smiles at you. No, she looks sad. No.. she is smiling. She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
You make more dough balls but you lose count of them as you place them on the counter. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall is so loud it feels as though it should make the loose flour vibrate on the counter’s surface. You hear their voices in the other room. They’re loud just normal, but you can’t make up any words. Mother is crying laughing about something. Maybe father told a joke; he used to do that a lot when you were little. Well, when you were younger, you are still little, compared to him.
You’re still counting by the time mother comes back, but the numbers are all jumbled in your head. Maybe it’s 15, or maybe it’s 49. Mother is quiet and so are you, your small whispered counting just loud enough for her to recognize you’re still doing it. You need her to know that, you’re not sure why, but the thought of her asking if you overheard them makes your stomach ache. You heard nothing.      “I’m done, mother,” you say out loud and turn to find your mum sitting on her chair by the window, her hand on her round belly. She’s in tears. Again. There is flour on her cheek and before you know you move to wipe it away, your small hand coming away damp.
And then she’s hugging you, holding you so tight it hurts a little, your small chest unable to take in breath like it should. You don’t remember the last time she hugged you to comfort you. You haven’t asked her to in a while. It wouldn’t feel like comfort from someone so broken. She’s whispering words into your ear that you don’t want to hear, words you choose not to understand. If you don’t understand them, maybe they won’t be true.
The bakery needs to stay afloat so you can keep the house and pay the bills, that much you understand. “I’ll help, mum,” you say, while your chest still hurts. You wish she would let go of you already. You already messed up so much, almost caused them to lose it all at the hands of a wrathful woman with a heart of stone. Irresponsible. The bakery needs to stay afloat so he won’t leave, you already messed up so much--- the bakery needs to stay afloat or she will go away too. You’re all she has, of course you’ll help. If you’ll help everything will turn out fine, the bakery will stay, father will stay, your sister will be fine and the baby--
The memory breaks off with a snap, like a film tearing. 
Tumblr media
#soothsaer#m. soothsaer#( m: trey. )#( trey: soothsaer. )#unusual kind of trauma#but there you have it#this is so hard to portray from this perspective because i want to imply what's happening and at the same time#show that his memory is fucked up because he was too young to really deal with his parents issues at the time#in case it was too vague#they had issues even before the riddle situation#and father threatened to leave them while mother was pregnant#he couldn't handle the financial burden of the bakery not going so well and having so many mouths too feed#and they had fallen out of love#and treys mom increasingly relied on trey with things he was too young for#burdening him with emotional troubles he didn't even understand at the time but that still weighed on him#like the thought of his father leaving if he didn't help get the shop going again#or his mother threatening suicide if his father left#and trey thus facing the thought of being alone with his sister and responsible for her#which on the one hand made him grow up quicker so he COULD be responsible but at the same time filled him with existential dread#it also over time made him lose his respect for his parents for different reasons#they don't talk about any of this anymore as things are going ok these days#or maybe treys father has affairs and his mother is still suicidal#either way trey is not facing any of it#he is just looking after his siblings and the bakery and working as much as he can when he is home#so he doesn't have to talk to his mother alone
1 note · View note
timmydraker · 19 days
Text
Tim vapes.
To his friends, namely the ones at school and not so much in Young Justice, this ain’t anything surprising. It’s popular for his age group and given how he has various roles in life that cause anxiety and his poorly concealed PTSD from being Red Robin, it makes sense he’d turn to something for comfort.
That comfort just happens to be an addiction to the ‘cancer usb’s his brother Dick once went on a two hour rant about.
Jason once got grounded and forced to watch a PowerPoint video made by Dick and Bruce after he was caught with a cigarette while still Robin. Jason still kept up the bad habits, but he normally turned to a drink or smoke when things were really bad. It was both recreational and a treat that he only had a few times a year, or month in the case of alcohol.
Tim doesn’t take breaks unless he’s on patrol.
It started when he was thirteen and was so tired from starting work with Wayne Enterprise and Robin that he didn’t give his usual response to his friends offer of a hit.
The passion fruit guava flavour settled easily in his chest, most likely due to how he had a lot of self control with his body. He coughed a storm afterwards but quickly found himself coming back for a hit or two during school breaks.
It only took a month for him to buy his first one after some research. He bought the least damaging one for his body even if he knew that lessening such damage didn’t fully remove it.
He started with grape.
Then once that died, he bought sour apple.
Then fairyfloss.
Then strawberry mango.
Then birthday cake, which he genuinely didn’t think could be real but alas.
It took almost four years for anyone in his family to notice and by pure luck it was his actual father who would end up dying a few months later. Tim remembers how guilty he felt when he realised his father would no longer be yelling at him for his ‘fruity fucking stink’ and that such a thing gave him genuine relief. He shouldn’t want his dad to be dead, yet…
It was then Tim realised that maybe he should try slow down his usage, and challenged himself to go a whole hour before a hit, then two and then finally three before he decided that would be enough for a while.
It’s on a particularly bad patrol when he saw a kid get hurt and wasn’t in time to save her from some likely permanent damage that he forwent his rule of vaping in the suit and took several hits while against a wall in his Red Robin attire.
He was just stating to feel the calm fully settle in his bones as his last puff of sour rainbow exited his lunged when he heard a voice just a few feet away.
“How dare you disgrace the name of Robin with that filth!”
Tim jumps up immediately but no training would prepare him for how quickly Damian comes over and snatches the vape from his hand.
Damian is gone quicker than he can get himself together and he only just managed to shout and run after him with his growing panic.
Tim watches his youngest brother vanish from sight and knows he’s doomed.
When he gets back to the cave a few hours later after trying to hide away from his problems, he’s finished his second vape (star fruit grape) from pure stress.
He’s met with the entire family sans Jason giving him the most disappointed and concerned look he’s seen since he confessed he lost his spleen and didn’t tell anyone.
Damian won’t meet his eye but even then Tim can tell from years of studying his younger that even Damian feels a little guilty for outing him, but as Dick looks close to tears with how upset he is the others resolve clearly strengthens.
Tim doesn’t blame him, even if he’s mentally going over all the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal.
292 notes · View notes
jamjaemin · 11 months
Text
Hotel room ft.haechan (mdi+18)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“You still taste like me..” Your words slurred into his mouth as his tongue laced around yours sucking it between his lips. Toying with your bottom lip between his teeth as he shifted his position on top of you.
Wearing nothing but a pair of thin black shorts..his hair is wet, messily falling into his face, as his caramel skin held a strong glow against the dim lighting. Lying beneath him in nothing but one of his black T-shirts, One had snaking under the shirt allowing the pads of his fingers to tease up and down the warmth of your skin. Admiring the way your body tensed and released under his touch, slowly trickling his fingers down your stomach. While his other arm barched his weight above your head resting on the ledge of the couch in his hotel room.
Humming out in response which actually came out as more of a moan to be fair, letting his fingers find their way back to your heat, as if you weren’t already swollen and dripping onto the cushion as we speak. “Always so wet for me…so fuckin wet” Dragging his fingers painfully slowly up and down your lips, spreading them apart, grazing his bottom lip with his teeth as me moaned out,Jaw tight ,eyes admiring how wet you were..for him and him only. Dropping his head briefly to blow against your clit just to watch you squirm.
“All mine?” He dared to ask, brow arch at the implied question, while his eyes daring to say otherwise
“Fuckkkk yes..” the words left your lips in more of a needy whine than anything else as he collected your juices along his fingers. Finally bringing them up to rub against your clit. Back coming to damn near a complete arch at the sudden sensation as he applied steady pressure with zero warning or build up.
Eyes fluttering shut as your jaw slacked slightly “Baby…” Tone slightly breathy you weren’t even sure if you were asking him to stop or to keep going at his point.
“Stick your tongue out for me…” His command was simple..voice siting exceply gritty from the concert he had only 2 hours prior…doing as he said with no questions asked. Slowly letting the muscle roll past your lips, you already knew where this was going once his fingers left your clit.
“Keep your mouth open for me baby..” gliding his fingers along your tongue coating you in your own juices, “My babyyy..” He praised as he watched you obediently held your  tongue out until given further instruction leaning down to lap his tongue over yours. Slowly rolling it back into your mouth as he had you tasting yourself all over again. This time the kiss was deep, and somewhat messy, still skilled just messy.
You suddenly found yourself kneading out in pleasure, the faint cries of his name getting lost against his tongue as he slid three fingers in effortlessly. Going all the way..knuckle deep curling them upwards allowing them to curl inside your pussy. The muscles instantly milking  his fingers for everything they had, you couldn’t even help how hard you were already pulsing around him.
It didn’t help he started grinding his hips down into you, rocking your body against his hand as he fucked you open with his fingers. His grip on the couch growing tighter the deeper he rolled into you, you could literally feel his dick twitching through his sweats he was so hard!
Pulling back from you so suddenly it had you clawing for air, raising his hips slightly as he pursed his lips, aiming at your clit, as you watched a glob of saliva trail down his lips. Not that you needed any other form of lubericant he just fucking loved it. Your body tensing on command once it made contact, pressing his thumb firm against your clit, as his fingers probed that ridget patch buried between your walls.
“hyuck, baby fuck-”
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your second orgasm the quicker his thumb moved against your clit. Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours as you struggled to remain eye contact. “needy girl”
He accepted the almost non existent nood because he could feel how tight you were squeezing him “Yeah? Gonna come for me again baby? “ Bringing his opposite hand down to rock his sweats down his thighs just enough to free himself. His dick rock fucking hard as it knocked against your pelvis, twitching against your flesh the more you cried out . At this point he slide all three fingers out and used them all to unravel your clit nerve by nerve
“yes, right there right-” He could feel how hard your clit was getting so he knew you were so close. The minute your nails started to dig into his shoulders he slid right in, bottomed out completely in one roll of his hips. Didn’t ease in, no warning just full out filled you to the brim, he knew you could take it. He just went down on you now he’s helping you ride out your second orgasm. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was thrusting up into your damn rib cage at some point.
“Fuckk” Left both of your lips in unsion the word danling of both of your tongues, not even giving himself time to adjust to how tight your pussy was squeezing him. He already knew he wouldn’t last long and right now he didn’t want to, he liked to push your limits but still keep it enjoyable not painful.
“Such a tight little pussy, no matter how much I fuck you, your still. Always. so tight” panig out between thrust as he rolled his hips down into you in a deep wave like motion. Pulling out completely each time, making sure to gaze your clit against his pelvis with every stroke. Making sure you felt every inch of him, as he moleded himself between your walls, the sound of your juices sliding in and out each time. The faint sound of skin slapping together bounced off the walls, as he wasn’t going too rough on you, taking his time, taking you at a deep steady pace.
You swore your nails broke skin as they dug into his back chest rising and falling, as every muscle in your body started to tense. Your moans weren’t even coherent at this point your entire body felt overwhelmed, every nerve was set ablaze with each roll of his hips. His eyes never left yours, no matter how low they got they never closed. Holding your gaze in the palm of his hands as he continued unraveling your body with every roll of his hips.
Bringing his lips back down to kiss every inch of your face he could reach shushing and cooing against your skin. Usining his oppsing hand to stoke up an down your thigh, carrassing it in his palm “I know baby, I know, your always so fuckin; good for me, I’m almost there, baby ride this out with me…”
Tumblr media
656 notes · View notes
kermitkrqb · 2 years
Text
A Glimpse of Us || Xavier Thorpe x reader
A/n: Xavier Thorpe can *%#%* #%^ #%^* *+%# #%. 🤭 I thought I would pop in and feed my Xavier enthusiasts. Be sure to interact with me guys, I love hearing your comments 🫶🏼
What to expect: Gender neutral reader, enemies to lovers vibes but at the same time they have mega crushes on each other , academic rivals!!!, no spoilers here lovelies
Xavier Thorpe was the absolute bane of your existence. A force to be reckoned with, as much as you hated to admit it. The boy was as irritatingly sarcastic and outspoken as you were. You loved loathed it and had no problem in showcasing it. He, on the other hand, spent every waking opportunity getting a rise out of you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed in rosy frustration. He claimed it was his “most favourite colour” to which you would of course scowl. The most frustrating part of it all was that the two of you shared the exact same schedule. It was as if the two of you were destined… to loathe each other of course. You refused to have it any other way, which is what you kept reminding yourself. You huffed trying to calm yourself as you walked down the hall to botanical sciences after a particularly humiliating instance with Xavier during fencing. He had you pinned down on the ground, your chest heaving as the tip of his blade hovered above you claiming the final point of the match.
You recalled his dastardly green eyes twinkling with amusement as you laid beneath him flushed with embarrassment. You scoffed at the memory and internally berated yourself as you made your way to class not noticing how the lanky brunette caught up to you. His long legs striding quicker than usual just to walk next to you. A cocky grin stretched out across his face, “Good game, huh?” No response, you were adamant in ignoring him. He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I especially liked the part where you were sprawled out under me.” You shot your head up, a twinge of pink dusting your face, as your fiery eyes bore into his, “Oh yeah? Glad I made your dreams come true. Must be tiring having to draw me like that all the time without seeing the real thing.” Xavier gasped slightly, he had been caught. Although he would never admit it, he was impressed with your response but also scolded himself for being so obvious in drawing you. About to retort, his words died in his mouth as you both arrived at Thornhill’s class and you rushed to your seat.
The two of you were assigned seats on opposite sides of the room per Thornhill’s request to “maintain the order of peace”. Both of you reluctantly obliged wanting everything nothing to do with each other. Putting your books on your desk, you watched as the long haired boy put his hands up in surrender when Ms Thornhill gave him a warning glance before he could spark anything between the two of you. Xavier of course caught your gaze, giving you a wink to which you responded with a sarcastic smile. Class had soon started as the two of you settled down. The botany professor hoped for at least one peaceful lesson, but her hopes were soon destroyed the moment she quizzed the class, “Can anyone tell me the name of this flower?” You smirked to yourself, this was just too easy. Your hand shot up, eager to grab any participation points you could get. The brunette glanced at you from his seat at the front, upon seeing your raised hand, he followed putting up his own.
The class was quiet not wanting to interfere with the growing tension. Whilst being the only two people with raised hands, Ms Thornhill ignored this not wanting to further fuel your rivalry, “Anyone?” Your fellow classmates look to each other in amusement as Thornhill sighed. She notions for you to state the answer seeing as you were the first to raise your hand. You grin, having seemingly beat the artist in the front row, “Ms, It’s the-” A cheeky smile is on Xavier’s face as he interrupts you, “the Black Dahlia.” Thornhill sighs and prepares for the disruption ahead of her. You breath in deeply whilst looking ahead, “It’s botanical name being Black Narcissus.” She gives you an approving look, “Very well done, Y/n.” You glance over to Xavier, only to see that he was already looking at you. His cheeky smile only widens further when the two of you make eye contact. He decides to tease you mouthing, ‘Pay attention.’ You’re about to reply when the botany professor interrupts your little interaction, “L/n and Thorpe, if you would stop staring each other and listen that would be greatly appreciated.”
The class laughs as the two of you pull yourselves together, Xavier clearing his throat in embarrassment at Thornhill’s implications. Both of you are now too embarrassed to look at each other in fear of being called out like that again. Thornhill looks pleased with herself as the rest of the lesson continues on without disruption from the two of you. At least it was a somewhat peaceful lesson. Botanical sciences soon finishes, and seeing as it was your last class for the day, you made your way back to your dorm for a nap after that exhausting day. Unbeknownst to you, in his respective dorm, Xavier was about to do the same. Taking a cold shower, the tall boy’s mind ran free. Every time he closed his eyes, you were there. Your face tinted pink as he got a rise out of you, the smirk plastered on your face as you competed against him, and finally, the way your chest heaved as you were sprawled out under him.
Xavier groaned splashing his face with more cold water. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Drying himself off with his towel, he quickly got dressed in comfortable clothes. His hair still slightly damp as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to doze off yet. The artist leaned over and felt around on the floor for one of his sketchbooks, his slender fingers grabbing the cover as he finally found it. It didn’t take much flipping for him to find a sketch of you. After all, you were his muse. He would never admit it out loud, although, after today’s interaction he knew you had caught on. He smiled fondly at one of his first sketches of you. On the page your fiery eyes gazed up at him as your face was deeply flushed pink. He couldn’t recall what he said to get that reaction out of you, and he didn’t really care. As long as he still got that beautiful tint on your face. He wasn’t lying when he said it was his most favourite colour.
Without realising it, he started to doze off at the thought of you. A soft smile plastered on his face as he began to nap. Xavier hadn’t dreamed of any visions for a while although that would quickly change. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched on his face as the daylight peaked through his dorm window. An arm was wrapped across his bare chest, his breath hitched as he tilted his head to the side. He could just make out your face under the covers. You were snuggled into his side with a soft expression he’d rarely seen before. Catching his eyes you grinned, “Finally you’re awake sleepyhead. I thought I was gonna be trapped under you for eternity.” The vision shifted and the Thorpe boy was now watching himself in third person. Xavier smirked in return, “You’d like that a little too much.” The two of you then shared a sweet kiss, Xavier’s chin now resting on the top of your head. He reminded you, “Remember to be ready by 8:00pm for our dinner.” You smiled looking up at him through your lashes, “How could I forget? Our second anniversary.”
Xavier shot out of bed sitting up. Like all of his visions that he would have in his sleep, it was extremely vivid and clear. His hand ran through his long hair, “Our second anniversary.” He whispered. His vision confirmed it all, even if the tall boy was still in partial denial in regards to your feelings. Obvious to everyone except you, he liked you of course. He just never knew if his feelings would ever make their way past playful bickering and into something more. Xavier wasn’t stupid, the vision obviously confirmed your feelings towards him too. Even before the vision he could tell, especially in the way you brightened up in class when you saw him, the small smile you would try to hide after he would tease you, and if your blush wasn’t a dead giveaway- he wouldn’t know what he’d do. He just didn’t want to be wrong and ruin everything between the two of you. A plan hatched in the mischievous boys mind, he knew you would be extremely stubborn if he outright told you about his vision but, he knew just how to make you crack.
A/n: Part 2 is already written, let me know if you guys want me to release it.
1K notes · View notes
ateez-himari · 3 months
Text
PRAY : HIDDEN FOOTAGE
A more private aspect of the relationship between the industry's producing sibling duo as camera follows them behind the scenes.
Tumblr media
June 26, 2024 (6:30PM)
CONTENT WARNING: This article contains mentions of parental loss following a car collision, discussions of mental health, allusions to suicidal tendencies and talk of an unhealthy childhood. Please read at your own discretion.
To celebrate the one year anniversary of an emotional collaboration that also served as the very first solo release of a talented vocalist, BANGTANTV in partnership with KQ ENTERTAINMENT uploaded a two part documentary showcasing the process behind the single 'Pray' by Agust D and Himari. Throughout the years people have come to build these siblings an untouchable reputation through the title 'Hands of Midas', in reference to their incredible musical genius, so it was only natural for netizens to be interested in their work behind the scenes. However, it seems as though they received much more than they had bargained for when heartbreaking stories of the past were recalled by the artists to explain the mindset of each track.
In order to help viewers understand why the pair resemble each other in such a striking manner despite being linked legally rather than through blood, a short rundown of their history was given in the first few minutes. Prior to the tragic accident both families were very close friends and due to this bond the rapper has been in his younger sister's life since her birth, later playing a huge role in raising her following the adoption. While their parents were not detached from their lives, they did work a lot, and with the eldest living his own life it was left to the remaining brothers to take care of her. The girl's biological sibling however was dealing with a lot of physical as well as mental difficulties at the time, which meant that he was in no state to carry out such a huge responsibility.
'I was left with a lot of injuries from the accident so I couldn't move much at the time, and the grief put me in a really dark situation. Because she was still very young she couldn't deal with it properly and was always happy instead...so I couldn't find a way to approach her to take care of her.' Hanzo said in an interview with Cosmopolitan Korea
This paved the way into the conversation that took place while each wrote their respective verses in the side track 'Snooze', and here is what we now know. The middle brother took ever chance available to come home to her, yet these moments were unfortunately few and far between, leaving the family's youngest with no other option than to grow up quickly in order to adjust to an independent lifestyle in the midst of grief. In the refrain along with the first verse Agust D talks about acknowledging life's hardships, some originating from the music industry, all the while reassuring whoever is listening that it is alright to show weakness and lean on somebody.
'They're [the lyrics] what I would have wanted to tell you back then but looking at them makes me realize how much I missed.' Yoongi admitted. 'I regret it a lot you know, seeing that the more I came home, the quicker you seemed to grow up. You saw a lot of things because of me, all of them I wish to take back.'
The last piece of this statement was lightly touched upon in later footage, revealing that the young woman was made to take care of her brother rather often due to him being stuck in a very dark place at the time, leaving him too mentally distant to raise her, with certain anecdotes suggesting she might have been witness to events that were traumatizing for a mere child. While no speculations will be made on this very delicate matter, it is clear that something much deeper has bonded these siblings together, as the man who very rarely cries on camera could be seen tearing up holding his sister.
'When I listened to The Last, I remember throwing up afterwards.' Himari recalled. 'The emotions were just too much and I think it was my body's way of dealing with them, since I never truly got closure. I was terrified back then, having to pull you out this often, but I don't blame you for it. If anything I feel relieved that someone was there at the time, even if it had to be me.'
With the discussion that followed being extremely personal we have decided not to summarize it, so for those who wish to listen, it can be found at the 25 minute mark in the first part of the documentary which can be found on BANGTANTV. We advise viewers to watch at their own discretion as it contains mentions of attempted suicide and deep childhood trauma, as well as heavy mental distress. What can be said in short however is that we now understand why the maknae tends to act childishly, as there was never truly a time in the two year period preceding training that she had the opportunity to live as one.
While devastating aspects of their past were unraveled, most pieces of footage filmed on personal cameras managed to heal viewers' hearts as they showed their healed relationship, from playing around while creating to going out to cafes or PC bangs. Multiple instances of the young woman falling asleep on the couch in her brother's studio have been reposted on social media, as it led to the rapper caring for her as one would a child, demonstrating the amount of attentiveness he holds towards her.
'I raised her, so there's something more in how I see her.' He said in episode 20 of Suchwita [with Taemin] 'It's not a parental link or anything...but it feels like it sometimes.'
This nearly fatherly care for his sister was demonstrated through an anecdote in which her difficulties navigating the music industry with a near deaf ear were talked about, leading viewers to learn that due to the family's low financial status they were unable to afford a hearing aid for their youngest, seeing as they already had to pay the hospital fees. The girl being fully aware of their predicament had never mentioned need for it, yet Yoongi rapidly caught on to the struggles this new impairment brought into her daily life, such as extreme fatigue along with splitting headaches and so he set aside money following every paycheck earned during his delivery job.
'The song that fits us the most...' Himari pondered over the question asked in a solo segment. 'Maybe Mockingbird by Eminem, my brother used to play it a lot at home. There's a lot of regrets in the song, a lot of promises about protection and sacrifices just to make her [his daughter] life better. It was the same with us in a sense...I guess a good example is that back then he needed money but he saved so much just to buy me a hearing aid.'
That is not to say the youngest does not care for her brother to the same extent, as she would reassure the older artist by holding his hands when he talked about something especially painful, even wiping fallen tears whilst talking about how great a man he is. Food ordered for him would very quickly fill the studio and although claiming to have eaten well, the rapper finished every single dish, even accepting the soft pink blankets draped over him when producing sessions lasted into late at night. While not providing the same way as he had during their childhood, the vocalist shows her care through small actions that prove the amount of attention truly on him at all times.
Their heavy history is easily discernable from the way these artists embrace one another, as there never seems to have been a singular loose hug, never a moment where they did not treasure the simple fact of each other's presence. Although the rapper usually rejects skinship in front of cameras, he could be seen seeking it out throughout the documentary, always asking for a small kiss on the cheek whenever the youngest arrived or left. Sharp eyed netizens also noticed how the senior fidgeted with his rings when listening to the vulnerable lyrics written by his sister, while she on the other hand tended to zone out as if attempting to repress certain emotions.
Peace can be found through these pieces of media as the siblings have stated that despite these setbacks they have managed to find their own balance, and are now going about life with fresh scars rather than carrying old wounds. Strangely enough, having these many instances of them laughing with one another, both fandoms noticed that their smiles are practically identical which had led to sweet speculations about fate meaning for them to be one another's healing.
National Soccer Team Captain, Min Hanzo, made several appearances
With the relationship between the vocalist and her biological brother being kept away from the spotlight, it has left many wondering about whether they were truly close or if something was brewing behind closed doors that neither wished to address. This worry was however rapidly dismissed, as several videos of them inserted throughout this documentary reassured fans that the siblings' bond is even stronger than they had claimed it to be. While every single piece of footage was heart warming enough to spark conversations it was not what caught the attention of sharp eyed netizens, but rather a singular clip filmed by the rapper in which they could be seen playing basketball.
The reason behind the influx of speculative threads on the X platform was the fact that their scars from the accident seemed to complete one another's, as where the idol was marked on the right, her brother's much more prominent ones were on the left. The most popular hypothesis is that the older man would have allegedly pulled Himari into his chest in order to protect her from the impact, which seems rather convincing due to the fact that the difference in their injuries' visibility suggests he had suffered the brunt of the impact. Amateur detectives on social media also recalled that the soccer player had made a few references to the aftermath of this tragedy in the past, in which he recalls being impaired to the point of barely being able to move for days while his sister seemed to be relatively healthier.
Making History
While life has not favored these artists in their younger years, their current standing at the top of the industry reflects the diligence in the siblings' work ethic as several pieces of history have been written through their groups despite the incredible amount of challenges they were made to overcome. The senior idols are well recognized for having paved the way for future generations while their juniors are slowly catching up to their achievements, having become the first male group to perform at Coachella and the first k-pop act to grace the stage of Mawazine, the second biggest music festival.
'At times, staying in this career was terrifying.' Himari had said rather hesitantly. 'On more than one occasion I felt like it was the end, like the exhaustion was genuinely going to kill me the second I closed my eyes. So much went on behind the scenes, we would go from one schedule to another without rest and using oxygen masks to avoid fainting became common.'
Much more weight than simply performing rests on their shoulders as both hold the position of producer, alongside several members, which demands that they constantly create new melodies in the midst of their already overwhelming schedules. Their skills have no grounds to be questioned as other well renowned idols have turned to them for their own releases, the most blatant examples being soloist IU with Yoongi and SHINee member Taemin with Himari.
Closing Statement
This documentary was heart wrenching to say the least yet placed much more meaning on the single's tracks with clear connections to dark aspects of their past now being unlocked to the public, serving as a form of closure for these siblings as well. They have truly shown that trauma does not make up the entirety of an individual as both are now known for their intoxicating happiness, giving the audience a valuable lesson about mental health and healing.
REMINDER to keep streaming Golden Hour Part : 1 by ATEEZ and support Jimin's upcoming comeback 'Muse' releasing on July 19 at 1PM (KST) along with 'Type 1' photobook by V releasing on July 9.
Share This Post
Tumblr media
A/N; Please keep in mind that while Yoongi has talked about mental health in the past, this is not an accurate representation of what he has lived as this is purely a work of fiction!
Tumblr media
49 notes · View notes
projectbluearcadia · 1 year
Text
[P1] Your Blood, Your Heart
Tumblr media
[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ] [ Part 4 ]
So I played the vampire event on Lonely Devil. And y'know I thought, "Hmm… Vampy Luci. SPICY."
[ Story Premise - In which all of the brothers are pureblood vampires, and although Lucifer has been protecting you, he loses himself to carnal desire, demonus and the thirst for blood. ]
Note: The other three parts are marked NSFW.
Wordcount - 1047
It's been difficult for you, living among the seven Pureblood brothers, but it could be worse. Among other things, it doesn't seem like Lucifer is interested in your blood, and he's been protecting you on the condition that you do what he tells you. You were initially reluctant, but as it turns out, most of the time he just wants you to do little chores. Alright, fine. Do your share, and you're safe. Pretty fair trade. 
Maybe that's what made you think Lucifer wasn't interested in your blood, that he was too "proper" for it. He certainly acted like he didn't want it, instead preferring the iron-enriched wine supplied to the family by Diavolo. 
How utterly naive of you.
---
"MC, what are you doing awake at this hour?" is Lucifer's first question as he sees you cross through the living room, the moonlight cutting beautifully through the window to illuminate the vampire's unreal features. There's a wine glass in his hand, a half-empty bottle of Lucifer's favorite Miel de Sang casting a deep red glow onto the coffee table. 
"Couldn't sleep," you answer sheepishly. "Sorry. I went to the kitchen to heat up some spiced milk." You gesture to the warm cup in your hand, and Lucifer sighs. 
"Well… you may as well come join me. I could use some company right now." The request sends you stumbling. Lucifer? Company?
"Are… are you okay?" you ask as you come to sit next to him. Lucifer looks straight in front of him before he rubs the bridge of his nose. 
"No, I'm not. As if my brothers weren't enough of a handful, those damn werewolves in Purgatory Hall won't stop howling every morning. And then there is also the matter that my favorite drama was canceled yesterday on account of the director's illicit affair with a vampire hunter…" Lucifer lets out a long groan.
"It's just one day," you try, giving him a tentative pat on the back. "Out of thousands. I guess it's more like trillions for you, but…" 
"I appreciate it, MC. And… thank you for always doing what I ask. It helps a lot." Well you weren't expecting that.
"Oh, uh… thank you?" Lucifer chuckles.
"Isn't the response normally 'you're welcome'?" You drink your milk awkwardly. 
"You're being nicer than usual, so I'm off my game." 
"Well, while I'm being nicer, your perfume is lovely today. It's not as overpowering." 
"I thought you said it should be overpowering," you reply unsurely as Lucifer pours himself another glass, and the muted stench of iron comes to greet your nose. Alas, it’s a smell you’ve grudgingly gotten used to.
"To deter my brothers, yes. But you're alone with me right now, so there is no need." 
"And you like the smell of my perfume?" 
"I gave it to you; do you really think I'd give you a perfume I didn't like myself?" 
"Fair point." You finish your milk a little quicker than you'd like, but you'd rather not indulge in the awkwardness any longer than you have to. 
"Hey." You shiver as you stand with your back turned to Lucifer. You're not allowed to leave yet; you disobeyed him. That's what this feels like. "Before you leave…" His voice growing gentler makes you turn, bemused, to see him fiddling with his glass, his eyes just barely averted from yours. "Can I… Have a hug?" 
What? 
"Is… that a command?" you ask hesitantly. 
"No. It was just… it was just a whim. That's all." You hesitate, only because you know that's a lie. This isn't one of his petty little "Bark for me" whims he's indulged in just to make fun of you. He really wants a hug. 
So, what can you do but lean in and give him a nice little hug? And, maybe you like it when he squeezes you back and returns you to the seat next to him. Surprisingly enough, the arms of the cold-hearted taskmaster are quite comfy.  
"Thank you," he mumbles against your shoulder, and you can't resist the urge to fluff his hair. For a moment, you worry that he'll rebuke you, but he doesn't seem to mind. "I think I'm touch starved," he chuckles. "I like… the feeling of your hands too much." 
"Well, you have had a lot to drink," you point out, taking that as a sign to stop touching him, but his head is still leaning against your shoulder. 
"Mm. I haven't had enough to drink tonight."
"Enough? Lucifer, I'm pretty sure you're wasted. You just asked me to hug you." 
"No… no…" Am I going to have to lug him to bed? you wonder with an impending sense of trepidation. "My throat is so dry that it feels as if it’s going to stick together and close when I speak." Lucifer lets out a slow exhale. 
"Is that wine really that dry?" It’s a joke, but you're getting the distinct feeling you should have already taken off running, but is that safe? Safer than just staying here and hoping for the best? 
"It's sweet, just like a ripe fruit, but… the taste isn't quite as resplendent as if I had bitten through the skin and eaten my fill." Yeah, you should run, but his lips are against your neck like a sharpened blade. His every word thrums through your veins, sending your fingers twitching and fidgeting. Fight? Flight? How about freeze?
"Lucifer?" you whisper. "I'm not a fruit, so please don't bite me." His lips part, and every last one of your muscles stiffen. He could kill you. 
"I can't take it anymore, MC," he whispers back, tracing his lips up your neck to graze a spot just behind your ear. "I want to taste your blood, indulging in you just a little bit each night… I want to take my time giving you so much pleasure that the only thing you can do is beg for more of it…"
He lightly bites the shell of your ear, and you twitch as he puts his hands on top of yours, interlacing your fingers. His voice, low and husky, echoes through your being as he loses himself. "You belong to me. I want you to tell me, from your own lips, that you are mine. You can do that for me, can't you?"
246 notes · View notes
poisonedfate · 3 months
Note
I love 2 pls drabble me 😊
okay. hi. hello. it took me SO long (too long, one might say) to write this, but i started thinking about young s1 merthur and ended up writing 1.9k words - very much not just a drabble. hope you don't mind. here it is, under the cut or on ao3:
2. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” (merthur)
ao3
The first time it happened, Merlin had only been Arthur's servant for a handful of days. He was still getting used to the pace of the day and the customs of all that was now his responsibility - and all that wasn't. There's a lot to figure out once you've been thrown into a situation such as this without much warning, which is how Merlin ended up in Arthur's chambers after the prince himself had already gone to sleep. 
It wasn't exactly unusual, after all, he was the one waking Arthur up in the mornings, however, the darkness, the quiet hum of Arthur's breathing, audible, but not at all visible, the stillness of the chambers and the world outside, and the knowledge that Arthur will continue sleeping after he has left the room - that made it different. It was slightly unnerving back then, doing it for the first time, all of it new and yet unlearnt. He had forgotten to take something or put something back - he doesn't quite remember it anymore. Merlin never really strived to be the perfect servant and he figured out fairly quickly that Arthur never truly minded it either, even if he often acted as if the opposite were true. 
Nonetheless, back then he had time to worry about more mundane things, so he had snuck into Arthur's chambers, never intending for the other to find out. Perhaps if he had just been a couple of steps quicker it would've all gone to plan, or perhaps he simply would've come to know of it later, but just as his fingertips had almost reached the door on his way out, Arthur began stirring, freezing Merlin in his tracks. 
He should've kept walking, he would later think, though at the time it seemed as if any slight movement of his would be the thing that gave him away if the prince was to rouse for just a split moment. However, Arthur had been very much asleep then, the very edges of his nightmares seeping through, piercing the silence. His stirs grew more uneasy, whisperspoured from his lips and turned into louder gasps and yells. Merlin knew he had been there for too long, if not by the knots in his stomach, then by his vision adjusting, suddenly colouring Arthur's features just enough so that he could make them out from where he was standing. Arthur's voice continued to grow sharper, but just as it had finally ripped Merlin from his frozen state, the same had surely happened to Arthur's nightmare. They stared at each other for a moment, the prince's eye finding his immediately, gaze weighing him down and marking Merlin still for just one more breath before he could finally move, making his escape. 
Neither of them mentioned it, not the morning after, not the evening that followed, not in the days that kept moving relentlessly. All of it felt helplessly real regardless - Merlin making sure to never enter Arthur's chambers in the cloak of such darkness again, Arthur refusing to so much as rest his eyes when Merlin was still completing his last tasks of the day. For a while, each morning that came Merlin would be met with an already half-woken Arthur. It concerned him, made him restless all on its own, though eventually, much to Merlin's relief, it regressed into a mere memory. 
The other new ways of being seemed less willing to go, but soon Arthur had become so used to Merlin's presence that his refusal to sleep around him, especially after a long day, proved to be more difficult. And so the second time it happened, Merlin had failed to even notice Arthur falling asleep until the others' unsteady breaths prompted him to turn around. He stepped closer, not sure what to do, before realising he should probably leave instead if his previous experience was anything to go by. There must've been some hesitation in his movement, clearly not having learnt his lesson to its full extent, giving Arthur the opportunity to grab at his wrist. Merlin almost jumped out of his skin at that, his fight or flight kicking in at full speed, but the breaking point never came, he stayed where he was, how he was. Arthur's eyes didn't shoot open like he expected them to either, there was no pull and no push, only a slight tightening of Arthur's fingers around his wrist. Merlin had been ready to swear he saw the prince open his eyes just so, as he stared at his twisted features, not that it would've mattered, he had already decided to stay until Arthur's grasp on him weakened and the furrow of his brow moulded into something peaceful once more. And so he had. 
From that point on, it became somewhat routine for them - Arthur would fall asleep (or pretend to, Merlin never was quite sure) and he would move closer, just within reach, a wordless offer trapped between them. It wouldn't happen every day, Arthur accepting said offer, but often enough that Merlin expected it, even grew to know the different intensities of the other's nightmares, when they were tame and when they were less so - though none of them entirely as bad as that very first one. 
He never gave much thought as to if it would ever change and perhaps it would've been a waste of time to do so, the two of them not yet fully settled, not yet known and familiar in full, still shifting and changing. A rainy day had come then, some time later, and Merlin knew the nightmares would be on the worse side of things, so much so that he had hung around for longer than needed after Arthur's expression had already settled. Clearly, it hadn't been enough, though, the hold on his wrist tightening once more as he bid Arthur a final good night, his fingers of the same hand Arthur held grazing the prince's, something he had mindlessly begun doing right before leaving, something Arthur had perhaps noticed. 
"Stay," Arthur whispered, quiet and barely there and only for the two of them, not even reaching all corners of his chambers. 
Merlin had been unsure of what more he could do besides offer up his wrist, standing there, letting time pass slower, letting himself simply remain there for longer until his legs grew as heavy as his eyelids. A pull on his wrist, not quite strong enough to move him anywhere, gave him a clue, and he placed himself on the edge of the bed. Arthur moved to rest his forehead against his leg and Merlin could only judge by his breathing then, whether or not he had escaped the worst of it, whether he had finally fallen asleep. Good thing it was a part of Arthur he knew almost better than all else. 
A lot changed and a lot stayed the same thereafter, but Merlin could never keep from wondering, could never stop the imaginings of what happens after he leaves. He did his best to give Arthur back his rest, too familiar with his own haunted nights, ones that seemed to lessen, too, since their little version of existing through them had changed. But what then? One does not simply expel all ghosts just by being lulled to sleep. As with all else, Merlin could feel certain shifts, could swear on certain truths being as real as the look he and Arthur had exchanged that first night. The feelings were rare and few, even more so than the moments spent with Arthur at the shore of long nights, but the phantom fingers round his wrist felt heavy even from his own corner of promised solitude. And he just knew it had to be bad, that some nights were filled with bad dreams, no matter how long Merlin had stayed. 
The sense of it nagged at him more and more, until it had him waking from his own dreams, sitting up between the mess of his sheets, Arthur's cries echoing through his head. Merlin decided it was enough, that they had moved way past the "do not enter his chambers in the middle of the night again" thing by now. 
There was no number or count he could assign to this particular night, he thought, so many of them had come and gone,he lost track. But although he couldn't pinpoint the time, it didn't really matter, as it felt more like that first encounter rather than all the rest. As soon as he entered Arthur's chambers memories came flooding in - it was worse, it was louder, it was darker. They never talked of the dreams and so Merlin never knew what chased Arthur once his eyes fell shut and what clawed at his insides once his body grew still. He didn't know, yet he knew enough. 
Merlin didn't freeze this time, heading straight for Arthur. The prince had curled into himself on the right side of his bed, so Merlin sat on the left, crosslegged and facing the other. He usually let Arthur do as he pleased - he had quickly learnt that the blond avoided anything that could be seen as more personal or emotional if he could help it, all except their quiet late-night agreements. Merlin wasn't as bothered himself and so he let Arthur choose the way it would go, but now it was his turn - Arthur wasn't going to latch on to him, saving himself for deep waters, he was already drowning, Merlin needed to pull him out. 
In the interest of caution, he placed his hand softly on Arthur's shoulder first, shaking him slightly once there was no reaction, though nothing came of it regardless. The sweat-sticky hair on Arthur's forehead distracted him for one breath in and one breath out. Merlin's eyes felt foggy, with not a trace of tears, somewhat scarlet, too far, too close. He grabbed atArthur's shoulder more forcefully, rolling him over so that his head was in Merlin's lap. The hope was to wake him before the nightmare could do it, but the flutter of his eyelids was accompanied by staggering gasps anyway. Arthur's eyes rounded the room twice before landing on Merlin, unmoving, still, and as dark as he could imagine them getting. For a moment, it didn't even seem as if he was breathing anymore.
"You're here."
"I am."
"You," Arthur tried, chocked and not at all like him, "they-,"
“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
The other closed his eyes, squeezing them so tight it almost made Merlin flinch. He didn't dare to move once they were open again, searching for something in Merlin's features, unsure if Arthur was hoping to find something or rather dreading it. He calmed then, gaze no longer as feverish, before muttering a soundless my...
"You don't have to tell me," Merlin interrupted in a whisper. Arthur only nodded. 
Although the other's body had stilled, his breathing had yet to settle so Merlin leaned down, placing his forehead against Arthur's, hoping he would follow his inhales and exhales. 
Eventually, they mirrored each other enough, reflecting the ease and shield of nights rather than their darkness. Merlin moved and Arthur did, too, lying down and facing each other. 
"Thank you."
"Any time."
Neither could convince themselves to let their eyes wander away from the other's gaze even as the tiredness laid its heavy hand on them. Merlin was the first to break away from it, giving a small nod, just one. Arthur blinked at him before giving a nod of his own, both of them closing their eyes at once, tangled in the warmth, safe. 
26 notes · View notes
hellfiremaniac · 9 months
Text
Sweet As Sugar
When Angeal had initially suggested that the trio visit a small coffee shop he knew in Midgar, Sephiroth wasn't expecting it to be because he knew one of the baristas there. But, sure enough, entering the building came with the realisation that their mutual friend, Zack Fair, worked there.
And he was mortified that Angeal had chosen to bring the others there, stirring up a fuss about it and causing the other, shorter barista to eventually shoo him away from the register. Zack had reluctantly obliged, leaving his co-worker to deal with serving the three men.
The blond had diligently taken their orders and set about preparing them while Zack returned to resume his over-dramatic tale of woe and betrayal at the fact that Angeal had told the others about this.
They happened to be the only customers in the store, so Zack's co-worker handed them the drinks rather than calling out their names. Sephiroth took that time to notice how much shorter than the rest of them the blond was, a smirk forming on his face as he thought of how amusing it was.
Until he looked at his drink cup and found the name Joseph written on the side of it. His smirk fell, confusion taking over his features as he looked over to his friends and saw their names written correctly on their drinks.
Before he could hide it, Zack pointed towards his cup. "Does that say Joseph?"
Genesis quickly snatched the cup before Sephiroth could deny it, holding it up for the others to see. "It does!" The laugh that followed his statement was loud, Zack joining in soon after. Even Angeal couldn't hide his amused smile.
Annoyed, Sephiroth turned to reprimand the blond, only to realise that he had disappeared. "Where did he go?"
"Oh, Cloud?" Zack asked, out of breath, when his laughter died down. "His shift ended right before you got here."
Sephiroth huffed, taking an annoyed sip from his drink and growing even more bothered by the fact that it tasted good. While his friends moved on to discussing Zack's new job, Sephiroth himself was silent, focusing on the blond barista that had disappeared before he could tell him his actual name.
-------
After a few days, Genesis suggested that they return to the coffee shop. Not to harass Zack this time, but because he stated that he liked the drinks there. Angeal agreed right away, and Sephiroth went along with them so that they wouldn't think he was bothered by the incorrect name thing.
Which he was. But he didn't want them to know that.
Zack was nowhere to be seen when they entered the building, but the other barista was there, standing behind the counter. He smiled widely at them when they entered, his tone of voice cheerful as he spoke.
"Welcome back! Zack's on his break right now, but I can go get him for you!" He walked through an Employees Only door before any of them had a chance to speak, and he emerged after a few seconds with Zack in tow.
"Hello?" Zack seemed confused by why Cloud had dragged him out so suddenly, but seeing his friends made it make sense. Cloud had expressed apprehension about being alone around them after their last visit, which Zack found entertaining.
"Same orders as last time?" They all nodded, and Cloud set about making their drinks. It was impressive that he could remember them after one visit, but Zack knew he had memorised the drinks to avoid direct interactions with them in the future as much as possible.
If they weren't on shift, Zack would torment his friend about the crush he knew he had, but he knew that now wasn't the time for it.
When Sephiroth received his drink, he was more confused than last time by the name on it. Rather than saying Joseph, the name Seth was present on his cup. The others poked fun at it again, but they moved on from it quicker than they had the last time.
He shot a look towards the blond behind the counter, but the only response he got was a startled look before Cloud ran off to do something out of eyesight.
-------
Visiting the small coffee shop had become a habit for the group, regardless of whether or not Zack was working. The drinks were good, the atmosphere was relaxing, and it made it easy for them to avoid the recognition they got in most bigger places.
While Genesis and Angeal never had their names mixed up, Sephiroth was growing increasingly agitated by the names written on his drinks. Zack had begun keeping a list of them; Joseph, Seth, Sean, Ross, Roy, Hero, Hayden, and, the most recent addition, Silver.
Receiving a drink today with the name Angel written on it had confused him at first. Looking towards Angeal, he saw the man's name written correctly on his cup once again. There was no way for it to have been his name mis-spelled, and he finally looked over at Cloud for an explanation.
He would normally run off as soon as Sephiroth confronted him about it in any way, but today his response was in the form of a soft smile as they made eye contact from across the counter. He waved slightly before moving to serve another customer, and though Sephiroth returned to his conversation with his friends, his mind stayed stuck on a small detail.
Was Cloud blushing?
— — —
A/N: Hey everyone !! This piece is an unfinished one, but it's one I still like and it seemed to be doing well on AO3, so I figured I'd post it here too :] I might finish it, eventually, but for now it remains as it is! Haha.
22 notes · View notes
Text
A Beautiful Birthday
Tumblr media
Characters: Asmodeus
CW: Slight nsfw (making out), drinking, body insecurity
Theme: Romance
Reader: Male Reader (but not really specified)
A/U: None
Premise: Celebrating the most beautiful Demons birthday! Who is that you might ask? Why Asmodeus of course!
THIS IS MOSTLY SFW!
.....................................................................................................................
It was Asmodeus’s birthday, a day that was treated as if it were a holiday. This year however was different because there was only one thing he deeply desired for his special day.
It was odd to his brothers for Asmodeus to not be requesting some grand party or a huge event. They all questioned him about it, and all he was in reply was, “I wanted something different this year!”
The only reason he wanted something different was because his heart wanted to spend time with the one person he loved more than anything, sometimes close to trumping his love for himself. But that wasn’t going to happen.
The one different factor this year was that you were here in the Devildom, with him. He was craving to hold you, to just take up all of your attention and spend it on him.
That’s all he wanted for his birthday. He found you in your room, you were simply scrolling on your phone with your back curved as if it were a small hill. 
“You’ll hurt your back like that cutie~”
You look up from your phone, the light from it illuminating your face showing all of your features. Even if the light didn’t flatter you well, Asmo thought you looked so stunning. 
“I’ll be fine. It's comfy anyway.”
Your response simply caused him to pout as he walked over sitting down across from you. He put your phone down causing you to stare deep into his light orange eyes that always seemed to always want something. They always desired something.
And that desired look only grew whenever his gaze landed on you. Like at this moment, you could see the clouded desire grace his eyes as you two sat in the silence for a moment. Asmo broke it first.
“Do you know what today is?”
You nodded, of course you knew. It was all the brothers were talking about for the past week. 
“Your birthday. Ofcourse I know your birthday, Asmo.”
He felt his heart beat grow quicker. You knowing his birthday was something that made him happy, remembering it sent him over the moon. He took your hand and brought it to his cheek. He nuzzled into it with a content smile. All he wanted for his birthday was an uninterrupted day from his brothers with you. 
“Mhm! So today, I want to spend it all with you!”
You blushed a bit, and Asmo noticed. 
“Why with me? Wouldn’t you want to spend it with your brothers?”
Asmo shook his head, causing his soft champagne hair to sway slightly. You looked so confused as to what he wanted, which Asmo thought was cute but also annoying since he only wanted you to notice what he desired most. 
“I spend every birthday with them, it gets boring after a while. But you’re not boring, you’re extravagant! So I want to spend my special day with someone just as special.”
Your face became red so quick. It seemed to amuse Asmo since his smile only grew. That was when he enveloped his arms around your form. He rubbed his cheek against your s/c one.
He loved how warm your touch always felt, even when you felt cold. To him even holding your hand was a warm feeling. It was so odd for him to desire a human’s attention so much. 
“Well, what do you wish to do with me for your birthday?”
Asmo pretended to think hard about your question. The truth is he already had a whole list of places he wanted to take you from the moment he became so attached to you.
However the reason he hadn’t yet was due to his brothers occupying all of your time and robbing him of all your attention. He took your hand and quickly took you out of the House of Lamentation as a way to prevent any of his brothers from trying to find you. 
“I want to take you to some special places with me!”
You looked at him then down to yourself. You felt a bit insecure since you weren’t really dressed for an outing like this. You looked away from Asmo shyly, and he seemed to notice this. Nothing went unnoticed by Asmo when it came to you. 
“What’s wrong Y/n?”
You look up to him picking up his voice. You gave him a small smile with your eyes slowly gazing up to his.
“I don’t think I’m dressed for a date.” 
You gently giggle and this sent Asmo into a cuteness overload. Anything you did around him sent him in that state. 
“Let’s go get you something nice then! How about a matching outfit with me?”
You shook your head. You’d feel guilty making him buy you an outfit on his birthday. It should be the other way around. 
“I can just run inside and-” 
Before you can even reject his offer, Asmo pulled you to a clothing store he really wanted to take you. Turns out this was part of his plan of spending time with you so it just happened to work out. Of course he isn’t going to let you know this.
Spoiling you was one of the many things he wanted to do with you today. After a slow walk to the clothing store, Asmo had pulled you in before you could hesitate. He dressed you up and picked out outfits he thought would flatter you the most.
And color schemes that would suit the two of you. He wanted everyone around you to think the two of you were a couple, which wasn’t the truth. Well not yet. Asmo wanted to help you try things on and join you in the dressing room but you were so opposed to it. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want him to help you. He gave you a pout.
“Why won’t you let me help you get dressed Y/n?”
You just blushed deeply. Did he not understand why? It was a bit cute you had to admit. Asmo was always attached to you, no matter where you went Asmo followed. It was as if Asmo was your puppy on a leash and you were his owner.
“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”
Asmo giggled. He’s helped you change back at the house, so what made it so different here. Even if it was rare for you to accept his help, it still happened. He loved how embarrassed you looked when he saw you half naked. 
“But I’ve helped you change before!~”
You blushed even more. Asmo held you close to him. 
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”
You tried to understand why Asmo wanted to help you change. Especially in a public area. Sure there would be privacy in the changing room, but it still felt embarrassing.  
“I-if you want to be the first to see me, you’re the only one here.”
Asmo pouted, that was half of the reason he wanted to join you in the changing room. But the other half was wanting to be with you privately. To just be with you and no one there to interrupt or cause a scene to drive your attention off of him.
But of course he got so lost in his thoughts and fantasies that it gave you enough time to change and come out. He was shocked. You looked stunning. 
“You look amazing Y/n-chan!”
Asmo enveloped you into another hug, nuzzling your cheek. You shied away from him, feeling a bit embarrassed. He noticed this, and took your chin in his gentle hands. Asmo guided you to look at him, and you couldn’t refuse it. 
“Do you not like it?”
You were startled by the question. Of course you liked it! Asmo picked it out just for you, you were just shy about how you looked in it. "I love it! It's just.. Well.. I don't think it looks good on me."
Asmo was shocked. He made it his job to not only look after you and help you keep a good routine to take care of yourself but he was also there to shut down any insecurities you had.
"Oh darling! How could you say that about yourself! You look stunning! Here let me change into my outfit and then we can pay!"
Not even a moment was wasted and he was out in 2 minutes. The two of you stared at yourselves in the mirror. Asmo was admiring how you both looked so cute in the matching ensemble but you were so focused on him. His enchanting looks, it captivated you.
Asmo took your hand and paid for the clothing. After that he took you out of the store and walked you around the plaza of all the stores that surrounded you. 
“Where do you want to go next?” 
Asmo only looked at you. He didn’t want to spoil any part of the surprises he had set up. Even if it was his own birthday, he planned it all. He only left you in confusion and suspense as he guided you to a club he goes to often.
So often to the point where he's friends with the owner. Asmo had set up a private room for the two of you, but of course that was only if the two of you needed an escape from everyone else. After a couple of drinks between you two at the bar, with people occasionally taking looks at the two of you. Some were eyes of admiration and others were of jealousy.
Sometimes small crowds of demons alike came to try and buy Asmo a drink. Of course he ignored them all. Only ever keeping his eyes on you. His smile was only for you, and not one full of the lies that he carried whenever he seduced someone.
He was always genuine with you. Never once would he ever lie to you, unless it was for your benefit. About an hour later of dancing, singing and drinking all you could the whole club burst into song. They were singing Happy Birthday to Asmo while he held you close. The club brought out an extravagant drink with sparklers in it. 
He offered to drink it with you, much to some people's dismay. You nodded shyly as the two of you took different straws and just gazed at each other. Even with others watching, this moment felt so intimate to him. This is what he truly wanted for his birthday. After the two of you finished the drink, both of you were quite tipsy.
Well you were a bit more wasted than Asmo, since a human can only take so much alcohol. He guided you to the private room, giggling every time you tumbled about. Once he had closed the door Asmo was met with your slight drunken gaze.
He couldn't help but stare back. His lust was growing in his gaze and you noticed. You slowly walked up to him. He was enchanted by your movements. How could he not be?
You were his favorite thing in the whole world. He always craved your touch, the caressing of his face, the taste of your lips on his. That was when everything in that room lit up. You took his face in your hands and grazed your lips against his sloppily.
He was in utter bliss. This was the only birthday gift Asmo wanted. He wanted your love, your love all for him. As greedy as it sounded, it was all he wanted. He cupped your face and kissed you back. He graced you with many kisses adorned all over your face. Then he stopped at your lips.
Asmo saw the tint of pink dusted all over your cheeks and a bit on your nose. It was a mix from being flustered as well as being tipsy. You closed the gap impatiently, capturing his lips in your own. You kissed him deeply, neither of you parting from it until it was necessary.
The gasps of air only made Asmo think that you were even hotter than before. He had never seen you this needy for his attention, for his love. He cupped your face again, but began to make out with you. Tilting his head to capture your whole being in his.
He held you close, never taking a moment to rest. He wanted this, for as long as he could remember. Each time you gasped for air, it sent Asmo to the moon. He loved this, he loved you. He loved how soft your lips felt on his, how warm your mouth was.
He traced his tongue on your teeth, then your own tongue. Both of them locked together as if they were having their own dance. Asmo had set you down on his lap, not taking a break from the heated moment you two were having. His arms wrapped around your neck, bringing his face close to your collarbone.
Asmo slowly traced down your neck, each kiss leaving a mark from his lipstick. He stopped at your neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise from your skin. He slowly brought his lips to your s/c skin.
He loved the very taste of you, and how you felt on his tongue. He slowly sucked on your neck, causing the skin to become darker. He scattered hickeys all over your neck, this was his way to mark his birthday present.
The make out session lasted for about 30 minutes. You started to feel drowsy, leaning into Asmo’s chest. He savored how you trusted him enough to sleep on him. He wrapped his hands around you as you fell asleep. The last thing you heard was his voice as he gently whispered. 
“I love you Y/n.”  
......................................................................................................
Sorry this is late! I still have to do silvers birthday story.
104 notes · View notes
masochisticgnf · 1 year
Text
A Lesson In Listening
find this on ao3!
dnf / 6.2K words / 18+ mature / one chapter
(inspired by the recent DNF Madrid stream and their insane size difference)
“What, now you’re just not gonna talk to me?” George repeated the question, this time with different wording as he waved a hand in front of Dream’s face to try and get him to speak, letting out a scoff when it didn’t work. “Seriously, Dream?”
“Just wait until we get back to the room,” Dream spoke barely above a whisper, making George have to lean in to hear him properly. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say to you, then.”
His bodyguard’s scowl quickly turned into a mischievous smirk, making him pull back quickly to sit straight up against his seat, turning away from him to look out the window. He brought his hands up to his cheeks, rubbing them soothingly to try and tame the blush when he felt his face beginning to heat up.
“Whatever.” The blonde chuckled quietly at George’s response, only further flustering the elder. He had been on Dream’s bad side before, and there was no denying it; he knew just how fucked he was.
or
Dream is George's bodyguard, and George is annoyed when he's quickly whisked away from his fans during a live stream. He sasses Dream on the way to the hotel, and it's there that he's put in his place
warnings: light degradation, choking, manhandling, edge play, dom/sub undertones, tickling, mature themes, pure hotel sex without much plot
“Seriously, you need to end the stream,” George heard the low rumble of a whisper from behind him, soft lips hovering just over his ear and sending a chill down his spine. “This is getting out of hand.” 
He rolled his eyes when he felt two large hands hook over his shoulders, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he tilted his head back to meet the gaze of his bodyguard. The blonde towered over him, only locking eyes for a second with raised eyebrows before turning back to assess the crowd, which was quickly growing larger by the second.
George turned his attention back to the crowd too, looking at what seemed like at least a hundred people. They were all yelling his name, words blurring together as the Spanish speaking fans rapidly shouted out and tried to get his attention. George prided himself on being an incredibly fast learner, picking up Spanish quicker than he had anticipated. But even with all of his knowledge, it was still hard to understand, and it made it harder to focus on what was being said, with everything seemingly being jumbled together into one collective scream. 
“The car is coming, right? It’s fine, Dream.” George mumbled under his breath with his head turned towards Dream before quickly turning back to the fans in front of him, holding his camera pole steady so that the stream could see the interactions as he smiled for pictures. A few minutes went by of him stumbling his way through broken Spanish, doing his best to focus on the person that was in front of him rather than the nudging he was receiving into his back every few seconds when the car eventually arrived. 
“It’s here,” Dream leaned down towards George’s ear again, this time speaking louder so that he knew the boy would hear, even over all of the screaming. “George, let’s go.” 
He felt a hand wrap around his arm and quickly shoved it off, continuing to meet fans and take pictures with them. George couldn’t tell, but Dream realized quickly that the crowd was only growing in size, and knew he couldn’t let the brunette have another minute to spare. Dream wrapped both hands around George’s biceps from behind, pulling him to the side with force and pushing him through the crowd towards the black car parked on the side of the street. 
“T-Thank you! Gracias!” George tried to fight against Dream’s hold as he was guided through the wave of people, trying his best to thank them and keep a smile plastered on his face as he was forced to continue on. A few moments later they reached the car, and Dream stretched an arm over his shoulder to grab at the door handle, opening it for the smaller boy and pushing him in quickly, following closely behind. He carefully closed the door and cracked the windows so that George could say his final goodbyes, and then they were driving down the street, the crowd fading quickly from view as he was whisked away. 
“You could’ve let me stay a little longer, you didn’t have to be so rude.” George spat out as he turned to look out the window, rolling it up and leaning his head against it once it was fully closed.
“It was getting to a dangerous amount of people, George. This is a new place. We don’t know the area yet, too many people were spreading the location info-“ 
“Okay and?” George interrupted, turning his head around to face Dream, staring daggers at the blonde as he watched him clear his throat and roll his shoulders, leaning forward with a frustrated scowl on his face. He held a finger up, pointing it inches from George’s face as he opened his mouth to continue. But he stopped, dropping it suddenly and leaning back against the seat, pressing his lips together in a tight line instead. 
“Did you wanna say something?” George questioned Dream, getting no response or even acknowledgment that he’d even heard the question. The brunette didn’t expect this reaction, so used to getting a rise from Dream, and wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. George tilted his head slightly, looking him up and down before letting out a deep sigh with a mix of annoyance and frustration. 
“What, now you’re just not gonna talk to me?” George repeated the question, this time with different wording as he waved a hand in front of Dream’s face to try and get him to speak, letting out a scoff when it didn’t work. “Seriously, Dream?” 
“Just wait until we get back to the room,” Dream spoke barely above a whisper, making George have to lean in to hear him properly. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say to you, then.” 
His bodyguard’s scowl quickly turned into a mischievous smirk, making him pull back quickly to sit straight up against his seat, turning away from him to look out the window. He brought his hands up to his cheeks, rubbing them soothingly to try and tame the blush when he felt his face beginning to heat up.
“Whatever.” The blonde chuckled quietly at George’s response, only further flustering the elder. He had been on Dream’s bad side before, and there was no denying it; he knew just how fucked he was. 
The rest of the ride to the hotel was silent, with George refusing to face Dream at any and all costs, even when he had to exit the car behind him. He kept his head down, watching his feet walk one in front of the other as he followed Dream into the hotel. They were silent as they both loaded into the elevator, standing on opposite sides of the small enclosed area and refusing to make eye contact the whole ride up to the eighth floor. The walk to the room was no different, both men staying on either side of the hallway until they reached their room. 
Dream walked up to the door, swiping the card and waiting for the little beep and green light to follow before pushing down on the handle and opening it for George. The brunette lifted his head briefly, giving Dream a single nod to thank him before stepping through the door frame. He was barely three steps in the room when he heard it click behind him, feeling a strong hand grip his arm and yank him backwards forcefully. His back was flat against the door a second later, with both of his wrists held tightly in both of Dream’s hands above his head as he towered over him. George blinked in confusion, trying to allow his brain to catch up with the situation that was quickly unfolding before him, but finding it hard to do so when there were piercing green eyes staring down at him. 
“D-Dream, I-”
“What, are you sorry now?” Dream let out a low giggle as he watched George look up at him in confusion, letting out a high pitched whine at the question. He shrugged his shoulders, a slow nod following close behind as he finally registered what was happening. “For what? Being a brat? Putting yourself in danger by not listening? Interrupting me? Which one, George?” 
“I…I- Just- I don’t know, all of it!” George pouted, leaning his head back to rest against the door as he looked up at the blonde. Dream shook his head slowly, the corners of his smirk rising higher as he let out another giggle, flashing a toothy grin at him. 
“Poor baby. You don’t know how fucked you are, do you?” 
George let out a whimper as Dream transferred his left wrist to join the right, squirming when the blonde began to trace his newly available hand down George’s left arm, making him burst into frantic giggles at the tickly feeling it left behind. The hand continued its journey down the side of his torso, fingers wiggling slightly as he passed over George’s ribs to make him squeal. He bucked his hips forward as Dream’s hand rested on his hip for a few seconds, groaning when the younger boy giggled and refused to move it down any further. 
“Dream, please, I- oh my God. I’m sorry! Please just….mh!” The Brit groaned as Dream cupped him through his shorts, pressing in with the heel of his hand until he felt George begin to grow beneath it. He bucked up again, letting out a high pitched whine when Dream moved his hand away, letting it drop to his side and leaving George to rut pathetically into the air in search of any friction he could get. He chased Dream’s hand with his hips until the taller boy slid a knee between George’s legs, leaning against his right thigh and forcing his small frame back against the door. Dream noticed the way George began to grind against him softly, trying his best to not be caught in action, but being painfully obvious regardless. 
“I know, you want me to touch you so bad, don’t you, angel?” George let out another whimper as Dream pushed his knee further up along the door, successfully forcing the smaller boy to balance on his toes as he continued to rut against the knee between his legs. He nodded his head, letting it fall forward against Dream’s chest with a quiet sob. The blonde placed a small kiss to the top of his head, attempting to both relax him and get his full attention. “Come on, use your words for me, please. Like a big boy.” 
“Please, I need it! Touch me. Please touch me, I’ll do anything, just….Dream, please!” George lifted his head up as he begged his tall bodyguard, pupils blown wide with arousal. The blonde felt a sense of pride at how quickly George was melting, loving how easy it was to mold him like putty in his hands. 
“As tempting as it is to touch you myself, I think you need to earn it. Don’t you agree?” Dream glided his knee up even further, the strain of George’s moan sending warmth straight to his own dick, feeling it twitch within the confines of his boxers. 
“What, Dream, I-“ 
“No. You didn’t listen to me, why should I listen to you?” Dream lifted his free hand from where it was dangling by his side, slipping it into his own pants and giving himself a few tugs to release the building pressure. He smirked as George stared at the action, his tongue darting out to lick against his bottom lip as he watched. “For now you can keep rubbing yourself against my leg, like a cat in heat. After all, you are my little kitten, aren’t you, baby?” 
“Nh…y-yes.” George stuttered out as Dream moved his knee slowly from side to side, feeling his dick grow harder at the feeling. His eyes remained on Dream’s hand that was still wrapped around his own member, tugging softly every few seconds to keep his arousal from lessening. Although, the reality was that it wasn’t difficult to keep it up with a squirmy mess like George falling apart in front of him like that.
“You sure are. Just a little baby kitten, huh? A little baby kitten who wants nothing more than for me to wrap my mouth around that pretty little cock of yours.” Dream squeezed at his own, tugging up and twisting his hand over the tip when he reached the head. He let his head fall to the side as his eyes fluttered shut, stroking himself a few more times and only pausing when he heard the older boy let out a high pitched squeak of his own at a well placed rut. Dream opened his eyes, only to be met with the prettiest sight. 
George’s head was thrown back against the door, hair sticking to his forehead with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His mouth was partially open, lips slightly parted to let the most beautiful noises Dream had ever heard slip out between them. His hips were moving rhythmically, thrusting up and back at a steady pace against Dream’s knee and furrowing his eyebrows with a moan whenever he managed to rub over the more sensitive areas. George was practically being held up by the leg between his own, only still able to lean with his back against the door because of Dream’s hold on his wrists. 
“Jesus, George. You’re such a pretty little whore, grinding against me like this. Pathetic. Imagine if your fans knew I could get you like this.” Dream couldn’t control the thoughts that were slowly forming on his tongue, and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking them into the quiet air of the hotel room. He watched as George flushed at the comment, his cheeks turning a bright pink as he turned his head to hide in one of his triceps. Dream’s eyes zoned in on the milky white skin of George’s neck that was suddenly revealed, noticing the lack of marks and having the immediate need to change it. He leaned in before George could protest, latching his teeth onto the side of his neck, below the back of his jaw bone where he knew was sure to drive the older boy insane. 
“Oh fuck, oh please, don’t!” George complained with a whine against the skin of his arm, biting down on it briefly when Dream sunk his teeth in even harder with a moan of his own. “Dream you can’t!” 
Dream pulled back, meeting George’s eyes with a wicked grin plastered across his face. The brunette instantly recognized that he took it as a challenge, “And why can’t I? Do I need to remind you that I’m the one making the demands here? You’re the one who’s supposed to be listening to me.” 
“They’ll see! Dream, ah!” He yelped when the blonde grazed the now reddened skin once more with his teeth, bringing a shoulder up to try and block the assault on his neck but failing when Dream’s chin stopped him.
“Who, Sapnap? The world's smallest bodyguard who slept through the day and left me alone to deal with you?” He spoke into the skin of George’s neck, biting down briefly before pulling back to continue. “Or is it the fans? Are you that embarrassed to be with me, baby? You don’t want me to mark you up for everyone to see?” He felt George tense at the accusation, pressing a kiss to his neck as he whined through his panic. 
“No! No, it’s not like that! You know it’s not like that. You…you know how much I love when you- ah! - leave marks!” His rambling was interrupted by yet another bite, this time closer to the front of his neck, to the side of his Adam's apple. 
“Then be a good boy and let me enjoy myself, okay? Let me make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” 
George let his weight drop fully onto Dream’s knee, too dazed from the request to be able to even attempt to hold himself up any longer. Dream took it as a sign to continue and began sucking on the wet patch of skin, closing his eyes and running his pointer finger through the precum that was pooling at the head of his own dick. He swiped a finger over the slit of it, pushing down softly and moaning against George’s neck at the feeling. George returned the sound of it with his own moan, higher in pitch but longer than Dream’s had been. 
As much as Dream teased George about marking him up for everyone to see, he knew that it wasn’t the most ideal situation for when the streamer would have to be at a live conference in the next few days. He pulled his head back slightly as he contemplated his next move, sliding his hand out from his pants for a moment to yank at the collar of George’s shirt to pull it down, exposing the bones to the cool air of the hotel room and smiling as he watched goosebumps begin to form on the pale skin in front of him. 
George let out something that could only be described as an overly dramatic pornstar moan the minute Dream’s lips met the extremely sensitive area under his collarbone, making him writhe as he continued to squeeze his eyes shut tightly with his head thrown back against the door. He pressed his lips together, a loud moan still managing to escape as a tiny voice in the back of George’s mind reminded him that anyone could walk by and hear what they were doing at any given moment. 
But he was too far gone to find the will to care. The brunette thought he might die if Dream stopped now. And suddenly, he needed to make sure he wouldn’t. 
“You’re- mnh!- you’re just my bodyguard! You- you don’t...you don’t own me.” 
“Oh?”
“It’s the truth!”
The hand stretching the collar of his shirt quickly disappeared, flying up to wrap around the smaller boy’s neck and squeezing as he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and staring at George’s eyelids.  
“Open your eyes, George.”
“I…no!” 
“Look at me. Now.” 
The dark lashes of George’s eyes fluttered as he forced himself to open them, dark brown eyes meeting green ones. Dream adjusted his grip on the older boy’s neck, covering as much area as he could and making George’s head spin. Dream squeezed down hard, the Brit letting out a squeak and taking in a deep breath while he still could. 
“You’re mine. You know that, I know that- fuck, even the fans know that,” Dream felt his jaw clench as he spoke, seething at the idea of not having George. “I’ve got you wrapped so tight around my finger, baby, everyone knows that. You’re mine. All mine.” 
George nodded his head frantically as Dream gripped his neck tighter, feeling the tips of the long fingers digging into the sides of it as the pressure at the front of his neck began to slowly cut off his flow of air. 
“Tell me. Tell me you’re mine.” Dream’s fingers pressed in harder, leaning more of his weight onto George to push the boy back against the door as much as he could and causing George’s face to turn bright red as he gasped for air. Dream released his hold as quickly as he started it, keeping his hand in its place over George’s neck but no longer choking him. 
“Yours. I’m…’m all yours.” 
Dream hummed in approval, removing his hand completely and allowing it to trail down George’s small frame until it reached the string on his shorts. He used a finger to snake into the waistband of George’s boxers, smiling when the brunette practically jumped out of his skin when his finger grazed the tip of George’s dick. It twitched pathetically in response, making Dream giggle while the brunette groaned in embarrassment.
“Now why can’t you listen to me like that normally, hm?” He questioned, not really expecting an answer from the smaller boy and getting nothing but a whimper in return. “But, you’re right, angel. You’re mine. All mine.” 
Dream slipped his middle finger below the waistband to join his pointer, now stroking at the tip of George’s cock with two fingers and watching as his cheeks grew impossibly flushed. He didn’t plan on stopping, only pulling back when George pushed himself up further onto his toes, trying to make rougher contact to relieve more of the pressure building up there. Dream pushed down roughly against the slit on the tip of his dick, making George cry out with a string of protests and drop back down as much as he could at the sudden change in touch, not being able to handle it due to how sensitive he currently was and trying to escape the feeling in any way he could think of.
“No, what happened, Georgie? You wanted it rougher just a second ago, why the sudden change of heart?” Dream pulled his hand away from George briefly to adjust his grip on the brunette’s wrists, not wanting them to slip out from his grasp as he continued to play with his little toy. When he felt they were secure enough to continue, he moved his hand back down, this time reaching his entire hand into George’s pants and wrapping it around where Dream knew he wanted it most. He giggled as he felt George tremble against him. 
But George couldn’t reply, only producing tiny gasps and quiet whimpers as Dream’s hand squeezed lightly before giving a few experimental tugs to tease the elder, going impossibly slow. George jerked his hips to the side, the feeling far too overwhelming, having gone from essentially no contact to skin on skin contact, skipping everything between almost immediately. But no matter how hard the boy struggled, Dream refused to relent, keeping a slower pace with his strokes as he leaned forward to connect his mouth against the soft skin of George’s neck once more, this time shoving himself against the opposite side to give it some much needed attention. 
“Mmh, I- ah! Dream!” He whined as Dream took the sensitive skin of his neck between his teeth, biting down harshly and sucking in, obviously set on leaving at least one visible mark for the world to see. George was still rutting against the knee between his legs, unable to stop himself even as Dream’s hand was slowly working him over now. The elder was growing impatient, letting out deep moans and high pitched squeals while Dream took his time with the smaller boy, clearly in no hurry to help George get the release he so desperately wanted. 
“Hm?” Dream questioned from his place buried in George’s neck, only leaning back to catch his breath before diving back in, his lips latching directly below the dark purple bruise that was quickly forming. He released his grip on George’s length in favor of gripping onto the opposite side of his neck to keep the brunette steady, giggling against his skin when George let out a high pitched cry at the sudden loss of contact. 
“No! No, please! Please, Dream! I need it…need you so bad.” The blonde pulled back, hearing the strain in the older boy’s voice and feeling his cheeks flush as he noticed how watery George’s eyes were. His attention was stuck on a stray tear that had managed to escape, rolling down his cheek and leaving a track of dampness in its wake. 
Dream quickly brought his thumb up to wipe it away, looking at the teardrop on his finger before he, without thinking, brought it to George’s mouth, smiling when he immediately dropped his jaw open as a welcome invitation. He let his thumb rest over George’s tongue, moaning and tossing his head back when the elder closed his lips around it, sucking like his life depended on it. 
“That’s it, baby, fuck. You’re such a good boy, George. I didn’t even have to ask, you just- you knew what to do all on your own. You’re so good for me, angel.” Dream stumbled over his thoughts, mumbling them under his breath as George swirled his tongue around his thumb as if it were the head of his dick, moaning and letting the vibrations from the low tone of voice enhance the feeling for Dream, making it that much more real in his mind. 
The blonde felt his own dick twitch in his pants, looking down and seeing the outline of it pressing against the front of his shorts, creating a tent with them and driving himself even more insane than he already felt. It wasn’t until his gaze landed upon the front of George’s shorts, seeing the imprint of the smaller member stretching the black fabric and practically threatening to burst through at any moment, that Dream felt light headed. He reluctantly removed his thumb from George’s mouth, dragging it down his chin and over his neck, running his fingertips over George’s chest and catching a nipple through the thin T-shirt. The older boy let out a squeal and arched into the touch, silently begging for more. Dream pinched the bud between his fingertips, rolling it twice before continuing his journey to where George was begging him to go.
“Are you gonna be good for me the next time I ask you to do something?” Dream lowered his head until his lips rested against George’s left ear, letting his head rest against the older boy’s arms that were still being held above his head, pressed harshly against the wooden door. George nodded his head with a pathetic whine when Dream’s hand finally wrapped back around him once again, tugging at a faster pace than before and making his eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling. 
“Y-Yes, promise! I promise! Please, just let me cum. Can I cum? Baby, Dream, please, I’m sorry! I promise I’ll be good!” George was saying anything he could think of to convince the blonde to let him finish. He’d been in this situation before- he was fairly used to it, not being able to control his brattiness even at the best of times. And more often than not, he was left without release, forced to sit with the weight of the swollen member in his pants into the late hours of the night, a brush of a blanket enough to work him up, and most times, left him in tears. 
“I don’t know…you were so rude to me in the car, and all I was doing was trying to talk to you. And now look! You’re the one trying to do the talking, Georgie.” Dream lowered George’s arms slowly from above him, bringing them down until they were pressed against the smaller boy’s chest, still wrapped up in Dream’s grasp. “I think it’s time to see what else that mouth of yours can do.” 
Before George had time to process what was happening, he was being forced down onto his knees in front of the bodyguard, coming face to face with the large bulge in Dream’s pants. George was always obsessed with the difference in their size, not being able to stop his mind from focusing on how tiny he must look to Dream from his place down on the floor. He bit his bottom lip and quickly leaned forward, pressing his nose to the side of it and gliding it up and down the clothed shaft a few times. George heard Dream inhale sharply at the feeling, hissing to himself when a large hand tangled into his hair and yanked his head back. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, princess. You’re gonna get me off with that pretty little mouth of yours. If I want you to choke on it, you’re choke on it,” Dream began laying out his demands, smiling down at George as he stared into his wide eyes, pupils blown so big his irises looked completely black, filled only with desperation and need. “Is that clear?” 
“Y-Yes, whatever you want.” 
“Good boy. And as for you…” Dream lifted his head up, staring at the door as his hand released its hold on the brown hair, instead coming up to tap on his chin in thought. “You can cum. But you’re doing it by your own hand, and you better hope you cum before me, or else you’re losing that privilege.” 
George nodded his head, eager to get his mouth on Dream. He wasn’t worried about not cumming, as he’d been right at the edge for most of the duration of their play. His hands darted to the drawstring of Dream’s shorts, undoing it and hooking his pointer fingers into the band of his boxers, giving them a tug downwards and leaning back slightly when Dream’s dick sprang out from them, standing up flat against his tummy.
“Fuck. You’re so big, Dream.” George was practically drooling at the sight of it, wasting no time and pulling it down with one hand to angle it towards himself, taking the whole thing in his mouth on the first try. He felt it hit the back of his throat, retching forward as he gagged but refusing to pull away due to the animalistic growl Dream always seemed to let out through his moan. It was one of George’s favorite sounds that the blonde made, and he wasn’t about to miss out on it because of a small gag reflex issue.
George sat still for a moment, letting himself adjust to the feeling before nodding his head and letting Dream know it was okay to thrust forward. Dream loved to fuck George’s mouth; he had once admitted to George that he almost liked it better than sex itself, and so he was never one to deny the younger boy of experiencing it. Afterall, he loved it just as much as Dream did.
“You’re doing so well, George. Taking me so well, fuck, you’re so gorgeous down there on your knees. Always so pretty with a dick in your mouth, aren’t you?” Dream was saying whatever came to mind as he thrusted forward at a steady pace, George hollowing his cheeks and sucking him dry the best he could. 
As Dream threw his head back with another moan, one of the brunette’s hands found its way to his own member, palming himself through his shorts and moaning around Dream’s cock. The vibrations sent a wave of pleasure to Dream’s brain, causing him to jerk forward with a hard thrust, making tears prickle at the corner of George’s eyes when he felt the tip hit the back of his throat once more. 
“You gonna fuck yourself for me, kitten? Go ahead, show me your pretty little cock. Let me see it. I wanna see how much bigger I am.” Dream demanded, still sounding authoritative even through his labored breathing. He could tell by the warmth slowly growing in his lower abdomen that he was close, but chose to hold off, wanting to see George jerk himself off until he’s a sobbing, blubbering mess below him.
George’s cheeks turned a deep red at the comment but didn’t have to be told twice, continuing to bob his head up and down Dream’s length as he used his hands to pull down his own shorts and boxers, stopping once he felt the cool air hit his skin and moved to wrap a hand around his dick. 
He started with slower strokes, taking his time for the first few seconds before he chose a faster pace, closing his eyes shut as he allowed the pleasure to course through his body. George bounced on his knees, unable to stop his hips from stuttering forward as he increased the pace of his tugs, feeling himself nearing the edge already from how worked up he was. He pulled his head back slightly until just the tip of Dream’s dick was resting in his mouth, lapping at the slit as if he were truly a kitten and moaning to send more shockwaves straight to Dream’s head. 
“Mh…?” George mewled, opening his eyes briefly to meet Dream’s gaze. Dream knew the brunette was asking for permission to cum, and he brought a hand down to card through the brown locks once more. He twisted a fist into the thick hair, using it as an anchor as he thrust himself into George’s mouth quicker than before, squeezing his eyes shut as a longer moan was pulled from him when George hollowed his cheeks out for the twentieth time. 
“Go ahead, let go, angel. Cum for me.” 
The second he had permission, he was cumming, and cumming hard. George’s eyes were twisted shut so hard that he swore he saw stars and flashes of different colors exploding behind his eyelids, his hips thrusting up violently as stripes of white landed over his hand and onto his torso. He cried out, lips still around Dream’s dick, which seemingly tipped the blonde that little bit of help he needed to go over the threshold himself. 
Dream screamed out, moaning George’s name as his hips snapped forward, gripping harshly into George’s hair and pulling him forward until the smaller boy’s nose was pressed into his pubic hair. He held him there while he rode out the high of his orgasm, trying his best to watch as George came down from his own. The hand that George wasn’t using to help himself through his release was clinging onto Dream’s hipbone for dear life, nails digging into the skin and pushing hard enough to pierce through it. 
“Fuck me.” Dream mumbled, slowly softening his grasp on George’s hair and guiding it back until his softening member was free from the warmth of George’s mouth. The elder opened his eyes slowly, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe the cum that was dripping from the corner of his mouth, swallowing what was left and licking his lips to make sure he had gotten rid of it all. He looked down into his lap and at the hand that was still wrapped around himself, wincing and twisting his face up in disgust when he saw the mess he had made. He started shifting from his place on the floor, making a move to stand up but instead being gently pushed back down by the taller man. 
“Hold on, my love. Let me get you cleaned up, okay? Stay right there.” George watched as Dream quickly stepped into the bathroom, conveniently only a few steps away, and heard the water running. 
“How am I supposed to explain these, Dream?” George giggled out the question as he caught his own reflection in the closet mirror beside him, tilting his head to reveal the love bites Dream had left on his neck.
“The power of makeup, Georgie!” Dream replied, his bubbly laughter bouncing off the tile floors and walls of the bathroom. 
George leaned forward and peaked in, watching as Dream cleaned himself off with a washcloth before grabbing a new one from the rack and running it under warm water, turning it off and spinning on his heel to face George. He giggled at the way the brunette immediately sat back on his heels when he was caught, acting as if he hadn’t been spying on the blonde for the last few minutes.
“I’m here, you little idiot. I didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here.” Even with the playful insult, George never felt more cared for as Dream kneeled down in front of him and took his hand in his own, wiping it with the warm cloth and making sure it was completely clean before placing a kiss on his knuckles, moving onto the next part of him. 
He spent the next few minutes like this, only having to go back into the bathroom for a new washcloth once before he was finally cleaned up. Once he was dried off with a clean towel, Dream helped him stand up, both of them making their way over to their respective suitcases and changing into lounge clothes before falling into bed. Their limbs were  tangled up in each other as they brushed their noses together, lost in a world of giggles as Dream let his fingers glide skillfully over George’s sides.
“Okahahay! I’m sohohorry!” George pushed at the offending hands, feeling his cheeks warm at the playful affection he was receiving. “I’ve suffered enough, haven’t I?” 
“Hey! I was nice, I let you cum today, even after you deliberately chose not to listen to me.” Dream argued back, evading George’s grip and finding an opening to wiggle his fingers along the brunette’s stomach instead. 
“Nohoho, no! Stohohop, come ohohon, Dream, I’m sleepy!” George pouted through his whines, giving Dream the cutest puppy dog eyes and giggling harder when the younger boy gave in with a roll of his eyes and a deep sigh. 
“Fine, c’mere, giggles,” The blonde smiled as George immediately buried himself into his neck, throwing his arms tightly around him as he settled down, finally comfortable and able to relax without the incredibly one sided tickle attack. “We can nap for now. But George?” 
“Hm?” The smaller replied with a grunt, already sounding half asleep in Dream’s arms. 
“Next time you talk back to me like that, you’re not cumming for a month.”
“What?! DREAM!” George squirmed in his arms, trying to push back to look the blonde in the face but finding it difficult with the iron grip the bigger boy currently had around his tiny waist.
“Goodnight, angel!” He could both hear and feel the smirk in Dream’s voice, dripping with a mixture of pride and giddiness. 
George could do nothing but lay in his arms, silently hoping the exhaustion would return to his body so he could sleep instead of replaying Dream’s words over and over inside his head. It was only after he heard the steady sounds of Dream’s breathing that he knew his cuddly bodyguard was finally asleep that his mind finally granted George some peace, allowing him to slip into a deep sleep, following closely behind the blonde.
40 notes · View notes
softhued · 2 years
Text
Unspoken Desire
warnings: nsfw, fwb, possessive sex, light spanking & choking, dirty talk, feelings, pining
word count: 4k
Tumblr media
11:37 pm.
You sat awake, debating whether you should message him or not, and nearly pulled your hair out over something that should have been so minuscule. “Ugh”, you groaned, frustration consuming you as an internal battle raged inside and ripped you in two. One side begged you to swallow your pride and send a quick message, which seemed simple enough, but the other side cringed at just the thought, grimacing at being perceived as desperate, needy, or dependent.
But the longer you stalled, the more your needs steadily climbed until they were impossible to ignore and left a void ache.
You wanted to fuck him so so bad, the urge growing with each passing second as you wished for his presence, but the idea of messaging first held you back. In turn, you fell down the rabbit hole of overanalyzing his actions and jumping to conclusions. Even so, you knew you were being a bit dramatic, but your assumptions seemed too plausible to your overactive mind.
Why didn't he message you, was he simply busy, or did he grow tired of you?
The latter being what you feared most.
He was always the one to initiate sex, sending you a message or video to show how badly he wanted you, which lit a fire within you. So, making the first move wasn’t appealing. It was too out of the norm of what you were accustomed to.
11:58 pm.
The time continued to tick by, and you still hadn’t worked up the courage. You took a deep breath, slowly inhaling and exhaling as you motivated yourself to bite the bullet before it was too late. Begrudgingly, you reached for your phone in a show of defeat as you let your yearning overpower your logic before you could change your mind.
Heyy.
Then you waited restlessly.
What if Shigaraki didn’t reply? What if he was already asleep?
You cursed aloud at the possibility, beating yourself up. You should’ve messaged earlier, instead, you wasted so much time because you let your nerves get the best of you, and now you weren't even sure if he was going to reply.
Bzzz.
The vibration from your phone had your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you snatched your phone up quicker than you’d like to acknowledge, but you were dying for his attention and anticipating his response.
What's up?
You stared at his reply blankly.
That’s what he gave you to work with, you complained as if you did any better. An exasperated sigh slipped from your lips as you concluded that you had to take matters into your own hands.
Nothing... just wanted to see what you were up to.
Once you hit send you started to overthink your reply. Playing coy wasn’t getting you anywhere, but you hoped he would pick up on the tiny signals you were giving. You were irritated at your inability to say what you wanted, and the constant beating around the bush made this so much harder than need be.
If you want to fuck, just say that.
He supplied, which was the push that you so desperately needed.
Despite not being in his vicinity, you knew there was a smirk plastered onto his face at being able to see through you. After spending a fair amount of time together, he became well-versed in your tell-tales, which infuriated you. He knew you a bit too well for your liking, making it nearly impossible to hide your true feelings, but for him to put you on the spot in such a crass manner made you want to prove him wrong.
That's not why I was messaging you, but I'm not against it.
You retorted, in an attempt to regain the upper hand while also hinting that you were interested, which was a severe understatement, but you couldn’t let him know just how badly you ached for him.
He laughed at your message. You were unbelievable, but he was fine with letting you keep up your little charade since you both knew the truth, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
On my way.
Your mouth gaped in surprise. It actually worked.
Those three small words held so much power, immediately changing your mood at the thought of getting what you craved most. Him. You smiled, now giddy, as you went to freshen up. To your benefit, you didn’t have to wait long before he notified you that he was here.
“Hey,” you greeted while nonchalantly opening the door for him like you weren’t excitedly awaiting his arrival.
Once you locked the door behind him, you were being pushed against it as he leaned over you, enclosing you within his arms, leaving only a small space between you. Your body tingled at his proximity, causing your mind to spiral and flood you with visions of endless possibilities of what he could do to you.
You could feel his warmth seeping through his clothes, and it took everything in you not to rub against him and reveal just how clingy you were. So, you schooled your expression, hiding away all signs that showed his effect on you as you cast your eyes up to meet his hungry ones, reveling in his presence as you looked at him temptingly.
He was so attractive.
Every aspect of him had your body thrumming in anticipation. From the way he looked at you, slowly raking his eyes over your figure with barely concealed lust. How he towered over you and easily made you susceptible to his wishes. You wanted him to take you right against the door, allowing his primal urges to take over and display how he couldn’t restrain himself when it came to you. That he craved you so badly that all rational thinking flew out the window whenever you were near. That he needed you just as badly as he needed to breathe.
You could feel his cool breath on your lips, making your eyes lower before you returned his gaze. The urge to kiss him was nearly impossible to stamp down, it was overwhelmingly suffocating, making you dizzy due to the lack of oxygen flowing to your brain. You were flipped inside out when he was near. The facade that you maintained slowly crumbled away bit by bit in his vicinity, and your true feelings and desires became more noticeable to his critical eye.
He was only a few inches away, making it incredibly easy to press your lips against his to show him how deeply you ached for him and to finally silence those overpowering thoughts. The ones that were afraid of baring yourself to him only to be hurt in return, and you’d have no one to blame but yourself.
You knew not to get close, that this was only a temporary fix that you silently hoped to become permanent. Despite yourself, you let the sweet nothings and whispered promises in the throes of passion get to you.
With your remaining dignity, you brushed those thoughts aside and waited for him to make the next move.
Silence and tension filled the space between you, thickening the air, as he made no move other than placing his hands on your hips. He slowly caressed your exposed skin with his thumbs, leaving a path of goosebumps after each graze, making you hold back a shiver underneath his addicting touch. You needed so much more to sate your steadily growing thirst.
The more your arousal increased, the quicker your patience wore thin. His soft touches only made you needier, imagining what it would take for his grip to turn harsh. You moved forward, putting your lips closer to his and subtly green lighting his advances, but he didn’t react.
“What are you waiting for?” you nearly whined, weaponizing the best pout you could muster.
“For you to tell the truth about why you messaged me,” his fingers moved to graze your cheek. “We both know why.”
That was a loaded request.
Did you only message him for physicality or something more?
“Do we?” you questioned while sliding your hands along the planes of his stomach, feeling his lean torso beneath your fingertips. You silently hoped that an indirect answer would suffice as your yearning grew exponentially with each passing second. And you couldn’t bear dealing with the emotional turmoil that was going to eat you alive if you opened that door.
He moved in closer, slotting his thigh between your legs, and applied pressure to your core, stopping all thoughts. You whimpered at the feeling of his thigh against your wet cunt, and your hips canted against him, pushing against his leg for the right amount of friction as his dark eyes readily tracked the motion. Every slow drag of your hips wordlessly begged him for more as your shorts dampened further.
His hands returned to your hips, ceasing your movements. “You don’t get what you want until you tell the truth," he responded, moving away from you and ending all contact.
You attempted to gather your bearings as he left you high and wet dry. You were speechless. Did he really come over just to play games? Why did it matter whether you directly admitted your wants or not? You were offering yourself to him on a platter, which said enough, parading around in the hope of tempting him, but he was unwavering.
He headed to your bedroom, where he’s been multiple times, leaving you behind.
Stunned, you followed behind him like a lost puppy in need of attention. Watching him remove his hoodie before he settled into your bed, resting against the headboard as if lounging in your home was the ultimate reason for his visit.
You crossed your arms over your chest at the sight of him, “are you serious right now?” you couldn’t hide your irritation even if you tried. If your voice didn’t give you away, your expression and body language worked together to expose you.
You wanted to scream. You were so pent up, ready to explode, and the one person you needed to alleviate your tension was being stubborn. The both of you were too much alike, which you often found amusing, but now it was infuriating.
He simply smirked at you in response, crossing his arms behind his head for support. You stood there dumbly, staring at him as if that would change his mind.
After a moment of stillness and heated glares, you walked over to him, crawling onto the bed before you settled onto his lap.
“How long are you gonna keep this up?” you asked, looking down at him. From your position, you could feel his hard cock beneath you. You lifted an eyebrow at his body’s response. He was worked up just like you, but he was willing to hold himself back to prove a useless point. You were right there within his grasp, ready to take everything he was willing to give, but other than his dick, he was unresponsive.
“As long as it takes,” he challenged.
At his reply, you ground your pussy against his crotch, relishing in the friction that he abruptly took away from you earlier. “Oh really,” you retorted, leaning over his relaxed form.
He couldn’t resist you forever.
He chose to ignore you as you moved your hips against his. If he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, you could apply enough pressure until he cracked. You brought your face to his neck, breathing in his scent before pressing your lips to his skin. You applied more pressure, marking his skin with your wet mouth, and intentionally targeted the most sensitive spots on his neck.
Your tongue lapped at his neck sensually before you slowly sucked on his sweet spot. Watching as your mark bloomed on his neck once you pulled off with a dramatic smack of your lips. You smiled down at your work of art before moving to decorate an unmarked part of your canvas.
Shigaraki attempted to remain unfazed, but you could hear his breath hitch after you nipped his flushed skin. Seeing him turned on beneath you sent a thrill through your veins, and you were that much closer to reaching your goal. Before you could get ahead of yourself, he stopped you once again by gripping your hips a bit too tight.
“What’s wrong?” you feigned innocently.
His stare penetrated you, “I know what you’re trying to do,” he deadpanned, regaining his control.
“And what is that exactly?” you asked, maintaining your front. “I just want to make you feel good. Don’t you want that too?” you attempted to grind your hips down, but his hold restrained you and kept you glued in place.
“Once again, if you want to fuck me, you can just say that,” he chided.
He wanted nothing more than to hear you beg for him, to let him know how badly you longed for him to be inside of you, to fill you once and for all. Once you finally confessed, he would take care of you, but until then, you weren’t getting anything from him. No matter how much it pained him to wait.
“Who said I wanted to fuck you?” you countered, despite your position and previous actions heavily contradicting your words. Your entire body invited him in, your legs open and sprawled over his as you sat directly on what you wanted from him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel your clit throbbing against him through your layers of clothing.
Shigaraki nodded at your response, digesting your retort. “I'll keep my hands to myself since I misread you.”
You were that much further away from your goal. In a short amount of time, you took one step forward and three back. You didn’t know how much more you could take. Constantly, going back and forth with him seemed to only dig you a deeper hole, and if you waited any longer it might be impossible to crawl out.
Desperately, you tried to swallow your pride, but there was a blockage in your throat that prevented you from speaking.
If you were going to get anywhere with him, you had to say what he wanted to hear. He already knew your intentions, so verbalizing them shouldn’t be too hard. It’s not like you were telling him your deepest darkest secrets. But something was holding you back.
The vulnerability that came with admitting that you craved him.
Your admission would let him know just how weak you were for him. A light would be shone on your silent wishes as you opened yourself up to him.
But he constantly showed how much he longed for you, so why couldn’t you do the same?
“I want you to fuck me,” you rushed out under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him. You spitting those words out was like pulling teeth.
“Huh. What was that?” he asked, despite hearing you clearly, but he needed you to say it louder if you really wanted to prove yourself.
You sighed dramatically, “you heard me.”
But, he was unmoving. He wasn’t going to let you off that easily.
“I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me.” you stated clearer, enunciating each word.
“Now was that so hard,” he teased, pulling at your clothes. Since you satisfied his wish, he was ready to grant yours.
You rolled your eyes but helped him remove your clothing, desperately wanting to feel his body pressed against yours. He already made you wait longer than expected, so you didn’t want to waste any more time. He flipped your positions, hovering over you as he rid himself of his last bits of clothing.
“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he mumbled against your lips, flaming the fire within you. You pulled him down even closer as you took the next step to connect your lips. Your lips uniting was like a breath of fresh air replenishing your lungs.
Shigaraki groaned at the contact, pressing his lips harder into your plush ones. His fingers crept between your bodies, moving between your legs as you spread them further, allowing him to do as he pleased.
His fingers caressed your slit before parting your lips and circling your hole. He was greeted with the feeling of your slick juices coating his fingers.
“You’re already wet,” he pointed out as he slowly pushed a digit into your welcoming body.
He faced no resistance as your warm wet walls accommodated him, sucking him in and coaxing him to stay. Another finger was pressed inside as he searched for your sweet spot, locating it quickly.
He rubbed against it, making you moan in response as a dangerous gleam filled his eyes as he intentionally brushed that tender spot. Your back arched, pressing your chest closer to his, and he watched how your hips moved closer to his enthusiastic hand, taking the reigns over your pleasure. His fingers maintained a slow pace, making your hole leak pathetically around his knowledgeable fingers.
You panted, shifting your hips against his hand for more, hoping for him to apply more pressure. In response, he held your hip down with his free hand as he continued to peak your excitement.
“What do we say when we want something?” he asked as if he was scolding a child that had forgotten their manners.
You were taken aback, but your lips were moving before you could process anything else. “Please. I need more,” you begged while letting your head fall back in ecstasy.
Satisfied with how quickly you listened, he placed a kiss on your forehead before praising you, “good girl.” Due to your obedience, he rewarded you with the addition of another finger and quickened his pace.
If you were about to cum that would’ve been enough to push you over the edge.
Your hole quivered at his praise. This side of him was unfamiliar, sex was never like this, but you were enjoying every second of his commanding presence, appreciating the way he effortlessly controlled you without lifting as much as a finger. It was attractive, and his air of confidence was doing something to you, fogging up your mind to where your only thoughts were to please and satisfy him.
You wanted to make him feel good too. To show him just how deep your desire ran. You reached for his dick, pressed between your bodies, but you stopped once you heard him suck his teeth at you.
There was that commanding presence once again, stopping you in your tracks. You pulled your hand back slightly while his hand continued to probe inside you, scrambling your thoughts and making it hard to speak.
“Can I t-touch you?” you stuttered out as your eyes fluttered.
When you received the go-ahead, you reached your hand down and wrapped it around his heated flesh, reveling in the feel of him in your palm. Your thumb swiped against his tip, smearing his precum along his length to aid your movements, making him groan. You looked down, taking in the pace of his fingers inside you, and copied his rhythm as you maintained the slick drag of your hand. His dick hardened even further in your grip as you stroked and lightly teased him. Shigaraki leaned down to claim your mouth again, and you enthusiastically responded, passionately moving your lips against his as you kept fondling him.
Your tongue tangled with his as you worked each other up, tasting each other more and more as the kiss deepened, and sensual gratification controlled both of your movements. Your actions were eager and hungry, making your stimulation much more enjoyable.
The palm of his hand rubbed against your swollen clit as he reached deeper within you, triggering a stuttered breath, “I'm close,” you alerted.
“I can tell. I feel you squeezing around me,” he responded, matter-of-factly. Your body temperature rose at his arrogance. He knew your body in and out, making it his job to give you the most earthshaking pleasure, and he was proud of how well he was able to bring you to your knees.
“I need you in me,” you begged, your grip on his dick faltering as your pleasure forced its way to the forefront of your mind. You could only focus on the sensations running rampant within you, which consumed your entire being. Your brain wasn't working as he quickened his pace, fucking his fingers into you faster. The heat in your lower half continued to flourish as your chest heaved.
Your belly clenched as the string you were clinging to snapped, and your body trembled against his frame as you mindlessly begged for him, needing to be filled more than ever as your hole clamped around his digits. His fingers continued to fuck you through your release, leaving you a whining and blubbering mess.
Once you came down, he removed his fingers, placing them in his mouth to taste your release as he eyed you spent beneath him.
He spread your legs further, wrapping them around his waist, and leaned over you while aligning his painfully hard cock with your cunt. His head nudged against your sensitive hole before he pushed into you, wasting no time to connect you physically. Your hands briefly gripped his shoulders as he impaled you on his length before he secured them above your head, immobilizing you.
You tugged against his hold to no avail, wanting something to hold onto as he continued to spread you open. Your hole stretched in response, gripping along his length tightly.
You leaned your head back while his hips repeatedly pushed into yours. This was so much better than you were expecting. Unadulterated passion surrounded you both as he solely focused on the feeling of you wrapped around him. One hand kept you restrained as his other hand went to play with your overstimulated and throbbing clit.
“Shigaraki,” you moaned out, unable to form coherent thoughts, only capable of calling out his name as you trembled beneath him.
Having you fall apart due to him provided a great sense of gratification. He was going to make sure he ruined you for anyone else, molding your body just for him. You wouldn’t be able to even think about fucking anyone but him.
Only him.
Your mind was clouded over with lust. At that moment, he could get you to do anything he wanted if it meant he would keep going. You would bare yourself to him completely, telling him your deepest darkest desires, leaving no part hidden. You didn’t want this feeling to escape you, craving nothing more than to feel tingly and full for eternity.
You fought against his hold, desperately needing something to cling onto as your hands balled into fists. But his grip tightened in response, adamant on not letting your hands free.
Not being able to keep yourself grounded made you feel as if you were floating. You were so far away, and the constant pleasure worsened your state.
“Please. I want to touch you,” you begged desperately, nearly in tears at the all-consuming pleasure you felt in every inch of your body.
Your begging was such a stark contrast to your stubborn position earlier. A testament to him fucking all the sense out of you, making you a puddle of shamelessness. You couldn’t care less about how needy you sounded or what you looked like begging as long as he stayed inside you. You just needed him.
He ignored your plea, opting to quicken his pace, which made you forget what you were whining about. Your eyes shut, and your hands squeezed tighter, as you tried to level your breathing. Whimpers were pushed from your throat with each deep thrust. You were deliciously full, completely stuffed to your limits, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Watching you unravel in front of his eyes, only caused Shigaraki’s jealousy to rear its ugly head. He saw the looks you were too oblivious to see, the way people undressed you with their eyes. The number of people vying for your attention, but he was the one between your legs, making you lose your mind.
No one else could have you like this, not if he had a say. He was the only one who should be granted the sight of you bare and vulnerable beneath him.
While continuing to restrain you, one of his hands wrapped around your throat, giving you a light squeeze.
Your pussy fluttered in response as you watched him with half-lidded eyes. The sound of him drilling your cunt was loud to your ears, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel ashamed. Not when he was making you feel so good.
“Who do you belong to?” he demanded, tightening his grip even further as he hit unknown spots deep inside you.
All you could do was moan and whine in response, words failing you, only harsh pants escaping your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as your high inched closer and closer. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in closer and deeper, not wanting him to escape you.
You felt Shigaraki squeeze your throat again as his gaze darkened.
“I asked you a question,” he commanded.
Your mind was whirling, and you felt like you were being consumed entirely.
“You,” you panted out. “Only you.”
You mustered up all your strength and brain power just to say those three words. His pace, his commands, and his grip worked in tandem to short-circuit your brain. All you could focus on was the feeling of him around you, inside you, everywhere. No one ever made you feel as good as he did, so you were a lost cause when it came to him.
You missed how his eyes dramatically darkened as he claimed ownership over you and the seriousness of his tone.
“Exactly. I'm the only one who can have you like this. No one but me. You understand?”
He released your wrists to hike your legs up to your chest, allowing him a better angle. He watched as your breasts and stomach jiggled due to each thrust and as you matched his demanding pace.
You couldn’t get enough of him. Each time you came back, he left you wanting more.
You were insatiable.
You nodded your head frantically.
You were his.
His position allowed him to batter your insides in a deliciously painful way. He was so deep, making your stomach clench with each thrust. Your hand moved to play with your clit, rubbing yourself frantically as you neared your climax.
His pelvis slapped against yours, echoing a clapping sound within your apartment while a cacophony of moans fell from your lips. Your free hand gripped his shoulder, painting his back with scratches from your nails as you captured his mouth in a messy kiss, tasting every bit of him.
Dewy white coated his dick as he fucked you through your high, making your eyes roll back and your body loosen. You let him take complete control as he pulled out and rolled you onto your stomach.
Your hips were hiked up while your head remained planted on the sheets before he pressed back into your warm, sopping hole.
“Shiggy, oh my god,” you whined.
He smirked at your reaction, looking down at the way your cunt struggled between clenching and stretching around his dick, and the only thing on his mind was to successfully ruin you for anyone else. He wouldn't give you up easily.
He pulled back, forcefully pressing inside again.
“How does it feel?” he questioned, knowing that you were delirious with lust and couldn't think straight. Your hands frantically grasped at the sheets near your head. “Hm? You like how deep I am?
His hands went to your waist, pulling you towards him with each thrust, entering you deeper than before. Your mouth parted in a silent scream as you struggled to stay coherent, and your breath caught in your throat while your poor overstimulated cunt took a beating.
A loud smack reverberated in the room, and the sting from your ass alerted you of what happened.
The smack snapped you back to your senses, and you opened your mouth before he could lift his hand again at your unwillingness to answer.
“I love it… love it so much,” you groaned, stroking his ego, a stark contrast to what you were so against earlier.
“I'm bout to cum” you warned, getting ready to tap out.
Your legs trembled due to each drag against your painfully sensitive walls. You were so weak, only laying there as Shigaraki took what he desired, helping himself to your responsive body.
“Good. Cum on my dick.”
That was all you needed to hear as you released onto his length, slick drenching his dick as he continued to move within you.
Your hands tightened on the sheets while you shoved your face into the mattress to muffle yourself.
“I’m almost there,” Shigaraki informed, increasing his pace to reach his peak.
Your body twitched, but you remained open for him, allowing him to use you. His dick twitched, and his thrusts lost their rhythm as his dick spurted inside you, making a mess between your legs. Your body slumped against the mattress as soon as Shigaraki pulled out.
His hands went to caress your skin, “was I too rough?” he asked, worry seeping through his voice.
You looked at him with tired eyes, a smile pulling at your lips, “no, it was perfect,” you conceded, not caring about how much your compliment would inflate his ego.
Based on the fucked out look on your face before you started to doze off, Shigaraki knew you weren’t going anywhere.
41 notes · View notes
dandelion-wings · 1 year
Note
Kaeya and Diluc any of them?
"Any of them" provided far too many choices, so I rolled on a random number generator and got 36! Which leads very easily into one of my favorite tropes. :> Warnings for torture, in generalities, and drowning (and some burning), in specific!
ETA: Now archived, with edits, on AO3.
---
It should have been the branding that made Diluc break.
But the thing is, he knows that Kaeya can *take* burns. He can still remember it all too well: Kaeya, sprawled on the wet cobblestones, his breathing harsh with pain but not a sound but its rattle escaping. He'd looked up at Diluc and all the agony in that gaze had been at the fact of the flames, that Diluc had raised them in the first place, not at the touch of them licking against his skin. He hadn't made a sound the entire time Adelinde had been bandaging him.
He hadn't made a sound when the hot iron touched his skin, either, not the first time, nor the second, not even when they'd come around hours later and laid it cross-wise across the old burns. Diluc had watched through the bars as he breathed slow and hoarse and bit through his lip and refused to scream for his tormentors. There was a strange, terrible pride at knowing they couldn't do worse to Kaeya than he himself had done.
It wasn't the branding. It was the water.
The ice on the water, more to the point. Kaeya's Vision is locked away somewhere else in this hellish little pit of Fatui villainy, likely with Diluc's own. Neither of them have any chance of using them, at that distance. But Diluc's breath still steams in the air when he watches them brand Kaeya, sniggering together about more and more profane suggestions of what marks to leave on him and where. And the tub of water they haul in afterward ices over when they shove Kaeya's head in there.
He fights that, too, the way he hadn't fought the branding, and not just because they have to loosen his bindings more to shove his head under. Diluc watches him struggle fruitlessly under the Vanguard's gauntlet as the hulking Fatuus digs fingers into his hair and pushes down. Diluc watches with his heart in his throat as Kaeya rolls his shoulders, jerks against the ties on his wrists, tries to surge up onto his knees and gets slammed brutally back down and under the water. Ice crackles over the surface of the water with such speed that the Vanguard yelps in surprise.
Yelps and yanks Kaeya's head back up to break it, then shoves him under again. But it's enough time for Diluc to catch his wide eye and his open mouth, the way he'd been gasping for breath in those few seconds before he went back under. He might still have been breathing in on that second shove. Diluc imagines him choking under the merciless pressure of the Vanguard's hand and feels ill.
The branding had hurt him. This could *kill* him, and they might not even mean to do it.
Every second they hold Kaeya's head under feels like a year. Diluc measures it out in heartbeats, coming quicker and quicker as they keep him under. He's trained himself to hold his own breath for a long time under adverse conditions, to endure the growing ache in his lungs past when most people break and gasp for air whether it's there or not. Can Kaeya come anywhere close to matching him? Is he still struggling not to breathe, or is he starting to aspirate water?
Could it freeze there, in his throat or lungs, his Vision's distant response to his panic only killing him faster?
After a breathless eternity, the Vanguard starts to straighten, grunts in annoyance, and brings his other fist down to smash the ice before yanking Kaeya's head up again. There's icicles wound into his hair, a thin sheen of frost on his cheeks, and he's gasping for air, a horrible, wheezing sound, between hollow coughing. Half-melted ice slides from his mouth.
"What do you think, Darknight Hero?" the Bracer who'd been watching this asks, turning to Diluc for the first time since he and his friend brought the tub into the room. Diluc can't see it under his mask, but the sneer is audible. "Does he need a little longer next time?"
Diluc watches Kaeya swallow, draw in another breath, and try to suppress the coughing long enough to give him a look of warning. He'd given Diluc that look yesterday, when the hot iron came out. Or maybe he's even going for the devil-may-care smile from the first day, when it had just been a pair of Cincin Mages with some paltry knives. He can't manage either; he swallows and then doubles over as best as he can with the Vanguard's hand still in his hair, that awful cough rattling out of him again.
Water in his lungs, Diluc thinks grimly, if it *is* water and not still ice. Which means he'll be even less able to hold his breath through a second time around.
"You'll kill him," he warns them.
The Bracer shrugs. "We'll take that risk," he says, flicking a hand at the Vanguard.
Who shoves Kaeya under again. Ice crackles as it refreezes, and Diluc's own breath catches. He bites back his roar of protest--they know from past encounters that he'll bend more for another's sake than his own, but they don't need to know how close he is to breaking right now. His own studious neutrality had put an end to the first day's torture, and the second, once they knew it wasn't creating the leverage they wanted. If he shows that this is affecting him, they'll double down.
He holds his own breath. Counting seconds is impossible with his heartbeat rabbiting in his ears, but if Kaeya *has* trained himself (and anyone who lives on a lake should; he'd discussed with Jean once, in their years as captains together, the thought of mandatory training), then he may well be able to hold out as long as Diluc would. He holds his breath and watches as ice crawls up the Vanguard's now-soaked gauntlet and freezes over the water on the floor. He holds his breath and keeps himself still and tells himself his lungs aren't aching, that Kaeya's twitching under the Vanguard's grip isn't becoming more and more fitful.
They'll pull him out any time now. They have to.
Diluc gasps for breath. He has no choice; he can't hold his breath a second longer. And he *has* trained for that, and he doesn't have water, or ice, in his lungs.
"I'll give you what you want," he growls at the Bracer, hoarse and breathless, surging to his feet and gripping the bars. "Anything at all. But *let him go*."
"Fine by me," the Vanguard says, hauling Kaeya up. He dangles limply from the Vanguard's hand, ominously still.
"If he's dead-"
"See for yourself." In three quick strides the Vanguard is in front of Diluc's cell. He tosses Kaeya into the one beside it, flinging him up against the bars that separate them.
Kaeya tumbles down at the foot of the bars like a ragdoll tossed against a wall. His head cracks audibly against the floor, the sound made all the worse by the ice in his hair shattering. His breath is thin and wheezing, but he *is* breathing. Diluc scrambles over to kneel down where he can reach through the bars and put his hands on Kaeya's chest, feeling its faint rise and fall, pushing as much of the faint heat of his own distant Vision as he can through his hands into that rubbery, cold skin.
Now the Fatui know exactly where to twist his arm to get whatever it is they want. On the other hand, Diluc tells himself, now they have a reason to keep Kaeya alive. He can work with that.
19 notes · View notes
plutoscosmoss · 1 year
Text
Fire Inside ➸ c.10
Warnings: This series includes themes of violence, death, smut, childbirth and childbirth complications (if I forgot to mention any please let me know)
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x OC
{Series Masterlist}
Tumblr media
Previous Chapter 
Chapter 10: The Forest 
Renva couldn’t sleep after the events of the petition. After seeing the King struggle so strongly to reach the throne, Renva felt for the Queen. She could tell Alicent truly cared for the King, whether it is love or not there is a respect there and for that Revna is glad. She witnessed first hand the wrath of the Dragon. Vaemond Velaryion’s head was sliced like it was nothing. Renva saw death before, that didn’t scare her. But the fury behind Prince Daemon's eyes scared her.
Then came the news she was dreading, Princess Rhaenys spoke about a betrothal offer and Rhaenyra didn’t immediately decline. Renva felt betrayed by the Princess who consoled her when she was on the verge of a breakdown. Now all the thoughts she had pressed down were resurfacing and Renva needed to get out. Out of bed, out of her chambers, and out of the Red Keep. She threw her covers off and dug through her closet to the bottom which held a sack of her brother's old clothing she would use or practice before she had her own. She knew it would come in handy at some point. 
Now all she had to do was figure out how to get past the guard stationed outside her door. She knew if she jumped from the window she would break many bones, so that was out of the question. Remembering back in Winterfell there were few secret passageways used by the staff to help them travel about the castle quicker. That led Renva to quietly pace the room and press on the walls in hope that one would open into a passageway. It took her a few tries until finally she pushed on the wall just to the left of the bed where her brother had slept, and it flung open revealing an empty corridor. 
Moving swiftly through the tunnels she heard the kitchen maids preparing food for tomorrow's meals which led her to realize she was almost out of the castle. Renva mapped out the castle while she was there, a habit she developed from her father. He made sure to remind her to always be aware of one's surroundings. The kitchen was close to the stables and that's all that Renva needed to get to. 
She pushed open a door and there it was, a few feet away she saw the stables. She ducked and weaved her way towards it making sure to remain unseen. However Signe following close behind might be a dead giveaway. How the wolf found her Renva didn’t know, she chopped it up to their bond. Entering the stables she saw a horse that looked the right size to ride without a saddle. She has done it many times before in Winterfell so it wasn’t a challenge for her anymore.
Once she was up on the horse, she slowly trotted him out of the stables and towards the exit for all the staff. That way she would be as inconspicuous as possible. Once she was out of the Red Keep she gave a slight squeeze and he took off at a higher speed. She bobbed and weaved all throughout Kings Landing. Finally making it to the Dragon Pit all she had to do was continue towards the woods that stood on the outside of the wall. Then she would be free for a while. 
While passing the Pit she heard the grumbling of the dragons that resided in it. They fascinated her but also terrified her. She knew Signe was still a wild animal no matter how strong their bond is and could decide to do the exact opposite of what Renva tells her to do. She couldn’t imagine handling the responsibility of having a dragon. Turning back towards the road, she kept up her pace and not soon after reached the exit towards the woods. 
Slowing down once outside Renva took what felt like her first actual breath in a while. She decided to continue on foot and once she started growing tired would turn around and go back to the Keep. Wrapping the one tie the horse had to the nearest tree, Renva made sure that the animal would be able to bend down to rest if need be. After giving the horse a little pat, Renva turned with Signe right besides her further into the woods. 
After walking for what Renva assumed was an hour based on the patter of the stars, she came upon a small creek. She stopped so Signe could take a drink, she knew the wolf must be a little tired from all the running she did. Taking a seat at the water's edge, Renva held her knees to her chest and just watched the water ripple. She thought of her mother, how different would her life be if her mother were still alive. She thought about how little she still knows of her mother, she has almost no memory of her. Just the one lullaby she would sing to all the children to get them to fall asleep. Letting a tear fall from her eye, she looked towards her wolf.
Signe was the only thing that was constant in her life when she thought hard about it. Of course her father and brothers are there for her but there are times they go on trips where her father will still not allow her to travel. Thus making her stay in Winterfell with the handmaidens, they were never constant after Ms. Kaila’s passing. It was almost as if it was Renva driving those away from herself subconsciously. She feared that those she cared about would end up leaving her, and her heart just couldn't take that happening again. After all, it seemed to her that she was alone more than she was with other people. Thinking back to Helena's dream the day before, she remembered her utter the phrase ‘lone wolf’, it clicked and resonated with her because those that resided in Winterfell often called her that name. 
While she knew not all of the Princesses' dreams actually came to light, she feared that this one would. Taking her attention away from her wolf and back towards the water she spotted a little blue light coming from across the creek. Curious, Renva stood to her feet, and tried to get a closer look. There were walking stones in the lake, lucky Renva had trousers on otherwise she would have had a drenched dress. 
Taking a deep breath she started for the otherside of the creek. 
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
next chapter
10 notes · View notes
shotoh · 3 years
Note
Hello! Not sure if your requests are open (please ignore if they're not) but I love the way you write smut I'm just w e t just reading your stuff and I was wondering if you could do one with Todoroki? He has a shy Fem s/o who is very quiet during sex. And when he asks her why one day she tells him it's because her last ex-boyfriend made fun of her moans and just general sounds she made all the time, so she goes silent. Cue Shouto doing everything in his power to get every single noise he can from her. Lots of praise, fluff, Dom!Sho™ and of course sin 😈 (again please ignore if you don't want to do this but I love your writing and I hope you have a great day)
let me hear you
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS: Despite the seemingly positive progression in both your relationship and your sex life, Shouto starts to question his ability to please you in bed after noticing how he could barely provoke even a noise past your lips. Little did he realize that there was another factor responsible for this occurrence—your rough past with your ex-boyfriend.
pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
word count: 12.2k+
warnings/tags: 18+, dominant!shouto, experienced!shouto, pro-hero!shouto, submissive!reader, shy!reader, characters are aged up accordingly, insecurities, mentions of past toxic relationships, blindfolds, sensory overload/deprivation, temperature play, quirk play, nipple play, praising, dirtytalk, hair-pulling, spanking, soft to rough sex, some degradation at the end (but not a lot), creampie
author’s note: so as you can tell by the length, this request got me inspired to turn this specific scenario into a whole fic, and as a result, it’s been taking me a while to get anything out to you guys. but it’s here and it’s done (finally)! sorry anon if you were looking for pwp… i actually have some other stuff in my inbox that i’ve been neglecting, so from now on, unless my motivation jumps for any reason, i’ll try to keep my answers short and simple! as in more in range of the “thirst posting” variety! so don’t be afraid to send anything in!
big shoutout to my girl rosie ( @shoutogepi​​ ) for beta-reading this for me! love you, babe, and im extremely thankful for your feedback <3
Tumblr media
Shouto had acknowledged from early on that you were a shy little thing.
When he first met you, you wouldn’t so much as look him in the eye if you could help it, too hesitant to start a proper conversation with him after growing very aware of his reputation. Any glance or thought of him would cause you to erupt in a fit of distress. You’d shake your head and make a beeline toward the opposite direction whenever you saw him coming.
Yet as much as you wanted to stop your feelings from getting out of hand, there came a moment when you both couldn’t deny the attraction that pulled you toward each other time and time again. The string of tension was wound tighter throughout every encounter at your workplaces; it was only a matter of time before it finally snapped.
Then came the pivotal day Shouto had admitted his interest in you, and in turn, you confessed that your feelings for him were mutual. Which led you to make this work somehow.
As the two of you progressed through your relationship, Shouto had taken extra care to advance at your pace. Dates and meet-ups were as frequent as both your schedules would allow for them. Through trials of time and effort, you gradually grew comfortable around each other, discussing even the most mundane things in your lives. Well, as mundane as a hero’s everyday experiences could get. With every exchange, you were making headway in closing the gap and allowing your budding attraction for each other to blossom.
Surprisingly, hand-holding and other physical forms of affection were a hurdle you both overcame quicker than you imagined. It became ingrained to the point that it hadn’t even occurred to you that your fingers were already intertwined while walking alongside each other, or that you made a habit of kissing his cheek—and him, the back of your hand—at the end of your dates until you consciously noticed it one day. You found it an accomplishment for an individual as shy as yourself and someone like Shouto, who mostly kept to a reserved lifestyle.
From then on, you conquered many barriers to bridge a foundation of trust and familiarity. You were thankful that you could freely express yourself around him without fear of judgment. So as the gap in your relationship naturally shortened little by little, it wasn’t long before you two became official and committed yourselves to no other.
In due time, those countless outings that helped flourish your development would eventually lead you to come over to Shouto’s abode.
On one particular night, after Shouto had finished his hero work, he dialed your number just before taking off from his agency’s building, and asked how your day was, only to find out you were stranded at your workplace. The train you usually took home was caught in a huge accident that had cut off most of the routes toward your apartment complex. Upon hearing that you were in the middle of securing a motel to take refuge in for the night, he immediately frowned and blurted out an offer before you could even get the rest of your words across his speakerphone.
“How about you stay at my place tonight?”
There was no way Shouto was letting you stay in some dusty, shady motel room while he had such a cozy space all to himself at home. And despite the circumstances, he had been meaning to ask you to visit his place for a while now.
To be frank, his home was way too big to be occupied by just himself anyway. He had always thought that it could use a bit of sprucing up in the form of people to fill the abundant space to make it more homey. Maybe roommates?
All that aside, he had to deal with your living arrangements for the night first. He sat silently behind the wheel of his car, waiting for your answer. He hoped he wasn’t breaching a level of closeness you weren’t ready to confront yet.
On the other line, you were more hesitant than you liked. You knew greatly that Shouto extended the invitation out of the kindness of his heart, with absolutely no ill-intentions.
No, that wasn’t the problem at all. What weighed heavily on your mind was the fact that this would be the first night you’d share together since becoming a couple.
Which meant that sex wasn’t entirely off the table, right?
Surely no one could blame you for thinking like that. He was a handsome young man, and you, a ripe, young woman—both who had particular needs.
If the newspaper headlines, magazine cover spreads, and billboard signs didn’t give it away already, Shouto was quite a sought-after man. He was a hero whom both women and men would love to succumb to a night full of pleasure with, and you should be thinking the same—revel in the idea actually. Considering he’s, well… yours.
Still… you had a cloud of uncertainty hanging above your head. You were no stranger to sex, but you couldn’t say your last encounters with it were the greatest. Not that you weren’t confident in Shouto’s ability to please a woman—it was simply an entirely different matter altogether.
In the end, you pondered the thought for longer than you probably should’ve.
“Y/n. Y/n?”
Hearing Shouto’s concerned voice resounding in the background made you realize you were holding him up. You shook yourself out of your daze, returning to the conversation. “Ah right,” you uttered sheepishly.
You heard his deep, lighthearted chuckle in your ear. “When you weren’t answering, I almost thought my phone died,” he joked mildly. “So are you okay with coming over? If not then I can drive you to somewhere I think is fairly–”
“N-No, it’s alright, I’ll take you up on your offer tonight.” As you gave your final answer, your voice floundered, trying to make up for your negligence in responding.
There was a stagger of silence, and unbeknownst to you, a smile enveloped Shouto’s lips as he reclined back in his car seat. “Okay, stay put then,” you could hear him start the ignition of his vehicle, the moderate purr of the engine revving in the background before it was overshadowed by the pleasant lilt in his tone, “I’ll be right there to pick you up.”
Not long after your conversation, Shouto pulled up on the side of the curb next to your building, prompting you with a text that he had arrived. Coming onto the sidewalk and seeing him hold his hand up in a gentle wave upon making eye contact with you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like a young school girl. The sight reminded you of when Shouto would drive over during your lunch breaks to whisk you away for a pleasant chat in the afternoon, or when he’d directly pick you up at your apartment for your planned dates. You supposed this could be considered a date in itself, except unlike the other occasions, you wouldn’t be going back to your apartment afterward.
Then as Shouto whirred in the direction of his residence under the dim-lit roads, the night went on just as you expected it to.
With the thought of having sex with him lingering in your head, the atmosphere in Shouto’s lavish house was suffused with an overwhelming amount of sexual tension.
Though his proposal was an innocent one, it didn’t take long for the man to mirror your indecent thoughts. While you made yourself at home, his scent unknowingly intermingled with yours. You walked out of the shower, wearing only a t-shirt of his that he deemed appropriate enough for you to use tonight, since it acted as more of a long dress than anything. Little did he realize the image of his baggy clothes hanging off your shoulders—exposing your bare collarbones and legs to his prying eyes—would spur him to interpret the situation differently.
When you emerged from the bathroom—skin dewy, tepid, and wrapped in the subtle woody notes of his bath products—you spotted him eyeing you intently at a distance. Aware of the prolonged eye contact, Shouto’s gaze dashed elsewhere and he excused himself to the kitchen to see if he could scramble up something for the both of you to eat, but not before telling you to help yourself to anything in his home.
“I’ll see what we’ll be having for dinner tonight. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.”
You nodded, a tender smile lifting your face at his hospitality. “Thanks, Sho, and also thank you again for letting me stay here. To be honest, I feel a bit spoiled being in a place like this.” You shied away and teetered on the balls of your feet as you held your hands behind your back.
To Shouto you looked so innocent and sweet—he’d always thought that way about you, but in this instance, there was an underlying layer of allure you held that threatened a lot of his willpower.
From the kitchen, he caught his eyes straying from his cooking, instead wandering in the direction of the living room where you were idling on the couch, your legs tucked beside you. The hem of your (his) shirt brushed against your bare legs with every shift in your position, and it was honestly so goddamn distracting how the fabric would ride up and tease him with subtle displays of your skin. He swore at one point he spotted a flash of color from beneath the hem, but he immediately looked away before he could process the sight.
Despite trying his hardest to push temptation away, he couldn’t deny his desire to embrace you in his arms and press his lips across every inch of skin hiding underneath that loose piece of clothing, dreaming about tossing it off your body for good.
“Calm down, Shouto,” he quietly chided, refocusing on his cutting board before he’d end up hurting himself by accident. He felt like he was leveraging your trust and encroaching on a threshold that he had no right to cross yet—shamelessly sneaking glances at you while you were so vulnerable. Being too distracted, he didn’t pick up on your feet stepping into the kitchen, not until you suddenly spoke up out of curiosity.
“So what are you making?”
His knife hit the wooden board with a single brisk noise that echoed across his kitchen. He turned around, discovering you standing behind him, peering over his shoulder.
“Just some simple rice, salmon, and miso soup. I’m not that great of a cook but I know the basics at least.” He set his knife down as you neared him and placed yourself at his left to get a closer look. Being evidently taller than you, if he even glanced down from this particular angle, he could get a glimpse at the peek of cleavage exposed from the fabric slipping down your shoulders. At the thought, his body had gone on autopilot, and his movements were rigid and extra guarded in your presence.
Your doey eyes gave him a look of uncertainty. He swallowed thickly, “I hope you’re fine with it.”
“Oh, yeah I’m more than fine! It’s just that you seemed like you were having some trouble over here,” you mentioned, peeping over at his station and witnessing his face furrowed in intense concentration, to which you assumed he must have been struggling with the task at hand. His eyebrows were scrunched, the skin between them folded inward as a gritted frown settled on his lips just before his pearly white teeth lightly bit down on the lower skin out of frustration.
Of course you were concerned for him, but was it weird that you also found the whole picture kind of sexy? You couldn’t help but shift your legs around when you were sitting in the living room, finding it incredibly hard to sit still, feeling a desperate need for friction in between your thighs over the idea that you really had a man like him all to yourself. So you half-approached him as an act of concern, your fantasy from earlier slowly consuming the forefront of your mind. Not only did the engaged expression painted on his suave features capture your interest, but the sleeves of his button-up shirt were folded up, allowing you to ogle at the veins and hardened expanse of muscle ripped down his arms.
You placed a hand on his arm, your voice becoming hushed and sweet—practically lascivious by how Shouto tensed up. “Do you need some help?”
Despite the nature of your question, there was an absence of worry in your tone, replaced by heady desire that slipped through the brittle cracks in Shouto’s resolve. From a brief glance at your pouty lips and the lust forming in the highlights of your eyes, he knew you wanted to embark on that next step in your relationship just as much as he did.
“Yes. I do.”
Finally.
Before you could even process the rapid turn of events, Shouto’s hands were already on you, shoving you to the nearest flat surface available. He whisked you into his arms, his hands finding purchase beneath your ass where he palmed at the material of your panties, mindful of the chiffon texture. What a vixen. If it weren’t for that accident with the train earlier, he would have assumed you were planning this.
Feeling your back come in contact with a wall, your arms strung around his neck. Your body hovered off the ground, legs winding at his waist to pull him closer and feel his hard erection grind against your crotch through his pants.
Shouto continued kissing you, his breaths hot and heavy every time your lips met. Yet as your mouths merged and he felt every inch of the soft skin of your pretty lips, he couldn’t decipher whether you found elation through what was transpiring. Though your breathing was ragged, the noise that departed you was nothing short of an incredibly light whimper.
He detached his lips from yours out of worry, despite you making an effort to chase after them. When you realized he wanted to take a pause, you relaxed against the wall, still clinging onto the man as you regained your breath. Shouto took this moment to scan over you. Your cheeks were hot and your expression was flustered—eyes hooded, lips quivering, and wordlessly pleading him for more of his touch. By how you didn’t put up any resistance, he took it as a sign that he was allowed to continue.
But he wanted to be entirely sure. “Are you okay?”
Blinking at him, you were surprised he would have to ask that, but thought of it as characteristic of Shouto to dwell over the matter of taking things at your pace. After you nodded, you spotted a sliver of relief wash over him. His face softened as he readjusted his grip to maneuver you off the wall. He closed some distance between your faces, but did not come for your lips just yet to utter a question, “Shall we take this to my bedroom then?”
This time you didn’t have to say any reply, only gliding through the empty space between your lips, kissing him fervidly to determine your answer. He immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to link your mouths perfectly together. You kept yourselves like that throughout the trip to Shouto’s room and were thankful that he knew his own home like the back of his hand, navigating the expanse swiftly and carefully. Your dinner was long forgotten and before you knew it Shouto dropped you gently on his futon. His body hovered over yours, practically consuming it as he lowered his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue inviting itself to brush against every crevice of your mouth.
Throughout the slow and deliberate dance of your lips, the two of you discarded your clothing until nothing but your underwear was left to separate you from feeling each other at your most intimate. Shouto was glad the night had progressed to the point where he could finally manifest his imaginations and trail his hot lips across your bare skin.
“You’re so pretty, love. And so tempting. Do you realize what you were doing to me earlier, showing off your beautiful legs—exposing your skin that looked like it was begging for me to kiss?” he asked, not expecting a proper answer, but more so a pleasurable, dulcet sound. One that you didn’t want to give him just yet as he continued speaking racy praises into your ears. “I can’t believe it took me this long to finally worship you like this.”
Even as he nipped at every inch of skin his eyes could see, he couldn’t pull many noises from your lips. It was a sign that made doubt crawl in his head, worried that he was coming onto you too fast. However, as his fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties, he was pleased at the wetness pooling between your thighs. He could practically hear his fingers squelch while playing with your folds, and was content with your face contorting into a look of obscenity the more his fingers prodded you.
Your teeth were gritted, feeling the temperature rise quickly in your belly. You brought your hand to your mouth to block out any noise that would leak out as Shouto began spinning his pads against your clit methodically. It was a detail the man noticed, but didn’t bother to comment on out loud, thinking it was rather cute how you were trying to suppress your moans.
His other hand pushed your bra up to reveal your tits to the air, kneading one mound to add to the sear growing in your abdomen. You forced down a squeal despite the tantalizing sensations of having your entire body played with.
“You’re sucking me in and squeezing around my fingers so well. Such a good girl... You’re gonna cum any moment aren’t you?” He gandered down at you, loving how your face scrunched and you moved your hips in tandem with his actions. You offered a frantic nod, caught in the ecstasy of him repeatedly hitting your sweet spot until you eventually felt the heat in your abdomen about to boil over.
“Let me hear you…” he uttered at the last second, but you must have been too ensnared by the sensations to bother listening, biting at your bottom lip while writhing underneath him.
Then one single thrust with his thick fingers finally set you off. Your legs thrashed next to him and you arched your back on the futon, the act of containing your moans making your body lash out more than usual as you came on his fingers. The lone sound that dropped from your lips was nothing but empty noise. Your mouth opened only for nothing to come out, concealed by your need to silence yourself as your hand curled next to your lips and your eyes were shut tight.
Again, your lover did not want to make you feel self-conscious by making any remark on how… much more quiet you were than he expected. He was just glad that you felt plenty of relief and rapture, finding his own pleasure in your cum soaking his fingers, pulling them out of your messy cunt to inspect the sheen glossing them.
Even if your voice didn’t choose to give it away, your reactions surely conveyed your descent into bliss. They were such a treat to gaze upon, Shouto almost wanted to frame each one. He would have to settle with the fact that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to witness them... considering he still had a throbbing hard cock tied down in his briefs.
“Did that feel good, baby? Are you alright?” His voice sounded tender and his actions reflected that same gentleness, massaging up and down your shaking thighs.
Still undergoing the effects of that intense orgasm, it took you a while to register his words, but once you did, your shyness took over and your voice murmured out, “Yeah, it was great…” Your affirmation brought back that relieved expression across Shouto’s face that looked down at you with a warm smile, white and red bangs clinging to his forehead.
Not wanting your demureness to get the better of you, you scooted up to pull your panties off, dangling them on one ankle before tossing them to the side. Garnering some courage, you spread your legs and fully exposed your sopping center to his greedy eyes that went wide at the sight, akin to a wolf finally spotting a delicious morsel of meat.
“Please, I want you to fuck me already.”
He gulped at your request but soon fell back into place, that stunned look melting into fervor as he crawled above you.
“Oh, I will, love. I’m gonna make our first night together one you’ll always remember.”
And he did just that, pounding you into the sheets until your head spun and you could think of nothing but his body devouring yours and his length penetrating every crevice inside your pussy.
Though Shouto couldn’t draw the noises he had been anticipating from you, he was satisfied nonetheless. His cum had coated your walls in thick white that overflowed from your folds after you told him at the last second that you were on birth control. Hearing that was enough to drive him to his peak and he released with a loud grunt that overpowered the fragile silence encompassing the room, making up for your lack of moans. The sound rang in your ears and you were shocked by how sexy his voice was—the gravely yet rich rasp in his tone a sublime conclusion to a night snarled by passion. In the back of your mind, you were glad your lackluster noises didn’t distract you from his.
Unaware of the self-deprecation muddling your thoughts, Shouto succumbed to exhaustion beside you, his energy depleted sooner than normal after a long day of hero work and a lack of food in the tank. It wasn’t his fault he had an appetite for something else, and after having his fill, you were staring at him with droopy eyes and a lazy grin, looking just as, or even more, tired than he was. He’d have to make it up to you with a hearty breakfast in the morning.
Not long after did you doze off into slumber next to him. Curling into his chest, he drew you closer and tossed the sheets over your naked body. Shouto wanted to admire your vulnerable state for a while longer before he’d follow behind you, but as he caressed your hair and kissed your forehead, the scene of what had transpired replayed in his mind. He recalled the times you blocked out your voice, not letting a single note slip past your lips— even when it seemed like he was doing a stellar job at getting your body to surrender to ecstasy.
But as the thought dawdled, Shouto suggested to himself it wouldn’t be good to overthink it and ruin the mood when you were blissfully asleep next to him. It wasn’t like it was necessarily a bad thing that you kept your voice to yourself. It was all a matter of how others reacted to different situations. People could be quiet or loud during sex and perhaps you chose to express yourself in other ways while being intimate with your partner. At least, that’s what he hoped before his head sank in his pillow and he closed his eyes, waiting for morning to rise.
Since closing even more of the distance between you that night, you and Shouto made sex an avid part of your relationship. It felt like you two couldn’t go without it, exchanging yearning looks in between moments before coming at each other like animals and tangling yourselves in your limbs. You were even bold enough to fuck in Shouto’s office on one of your lunch breaks, initially dropping off a bento for him at his agency in case he dismissed eating for overworking himself again, only to discover your efforts were pointless as you both ignored your food altogether and found your fill in different ways.
Whenever you went at it in such compromising locations, Shouto was somewhat thankful you muted your noises. But that brought up another constant ever since that night, one which overtime, increasingly became an enigma to him.
In a span of a month, all he could manage to get you to utter while stuffed with his cock was a squeal. Even then, it was relatively muffled in comparison to the enthusiastic reactions he received from his previous partners, who were always babbling nonsense after losing themselves on his cock.
Shouto was never bothered by this fact enough to lose sleep over it. However, it was jarring to him whenever he heard his own voice above yours, and the notion of whether he was the only one finding pleasure in bed together rose for him to question his ability to satisfy his partner. The tendency to ask how you were doing after seemingly making you orgasm through any method of fingers, tongue, or both, developed into a habit marked by doubt. Out of need for a sense of security, he established a safeword for you to use whenever it was necessary, without needing to explain his lackluster performance or otherwise; he’d honor your request wholeheartedly if that were the case. Luckily, no opportunity ever emerged for you to have to use the safeword thus far, which left him stumped. So what exactly spurred you to stay so silent?
Pondering this to himself wouldn’t help him find any closure. He had to be direct with his approach and that meant spilling his thoughts to you.
That very chance appeared on one of your outings together, where you sat with a cup of tea and coffee within the serene atmosphere of a cafe, discussing the current trends with work and friends. He brought up the question casually in conversation, being deliberate with his wording as to not pose concern and perhaps make it a bigger deal than it really was.
“Y/n, we’ve been together for some time now and I’m glad that we’ve gotten so close with each other…” Shouto’s voice lingered off as he watched light ripples cascade the surface of his drink. His misty turquoise and silver eyes trailed over to you bringing your cup of tea to your lips. He drew in a breath to ready himself for what he wanted to say. Meanwhile, you gulped hard for the warm, earthy liquid to ebb through you, hoping it would soothe the jitters you felt upon hearing his words.
Shouto cleared his throat, attempting to look you straight in the eye. “But I’ve noticed that you’ve always been really quiet whenever we have sex. And it’s not exactly a big deal or anything, but I was just wondering why that is?” He paused for a second, the other question he wanted to ask teetering on the tip of his tongue. Hesitant mismatched eyes slowly averted from yours and his fingers curled into his palm on the table. “Am I not as good as you were hoping?”
Hearing his remark, your tea nearly went down the wrong pipe, and you almost choked in response. You quickly set your cup down to stammer, “N-No, not at all! You’re great, Shouto! Terrific actually!” You clarified almost too loudly, scanning over your surroundings to see if anyone was bothered before straightening yourself and adjusting your volume accordingly.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been making you feel this way. It wasn’t my intention at all.” You searched his face, reading the hesitance all over his features that began to ridden you with guilt. “Like I said, you’re more than I could ever ask for in a boyfriend, Sho. You’re so kind, patient, and mindful of all my needs that I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve you. I guess, right now, that statement isn’t far off considering I haven’t been very aware of how you’ve felt lately.” Too ashamed to look him in the eye, you twiddled with your thumbs and kept your head down.
“And… Well… There is a reason why I’ve always chosen to be silent during sex.”
You pressed through your uneasiness to peel off the layers of your past relationships, confessing how your last ex-boyfriend told you that you’d be better off staying quiet when you fucked so you wouldn’t “ruin the mood”. You vividly remembered all the mean comments he said to you, where he mocked your voice and the noises you made. It discouraged you from even opening your mouth sometimes while having sex with him. Even when you spoke to your ex about how his words made you feel, he simply scoffed and brushed everything under the rug as a joke, stating you were too sensitive. Needless to say, you ended that relationship quickly. However, the damage had been done and his words unconsciously stuck with you, affecting your habits.
While in the middle of explaining your history, you hadn’t noticed Shouto’s fist shake beneath the table, his reluctant face slowly contorting in anger as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek. It was when you spoke in great detail about what your ex said to you that he snapped.
“He said what?” he seethed. He was too blinded by ire to regard his cup of coffee boiling with bubbles from the heat radiating off his body.
He wanted to believe that if anything, your bashfulness was what was preventing you from letting your voice run loose. But to instead discover that someone had diminished your confidence enough to invoke a habit like that? Shouto was fuming.
You were stunned by his tone and even more so at his escalating ferocity. Gauging his anger, you wouldn’t be surprised if he went out to go find your ex and give him a piece of his mind this instant.
“Wait, Shouto, chill out!” you warned while frantically waving your hands at him, overhearing a patron in the cafe comment on how hot it suddenly was.
Blinking in realization, he swiftly activated his ice side to dispel the heat, returning to his normal temperature. He exhaled a frosty breath of air. “Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. You told him he didn’t need to apologize for anything.
“There’s no reason to get worked up about it anyway, he’s not worth the energy. And besides, he’s out of my life now so I should just forget about him.” You attempted to muster more confidence in your words, but found your resolve fleeting. Your eyes dropped to your tea and you took a sip to mitigate the silence afterward.
Shouto thought to himself that it must have been easier said than done when remembering how insistent you were in holding yourself back in bed, whether you were conscious of your actions or not. The white and red-haired man gripped his cup of coffee, swirling the umber liquid with a single gyration of his hand.
“I’m going to be honest,” Shouto began.
You held your breath, another guzzle of tea traveling down your throat. Somehow the assertive side of Shouto made you nervous at times like this.
“Your ex is nothing short of an asshole.”
Then as fast as your hesitance came, you were instantly relieved and released the breath you held. You were glad he shared the same sentiment.
A heavy sigh left his lips in the wake of his words as he set his coffee down. “I don’t think anyone deserves to have their partner mock them over something they can’t control. Plus, who does he think he is to say those things to you...” He was blunt about his distaste for your ex and didn’t bother to suppress his expressions when speaking about him. That alleviated a lot of the trepidations that crept over you at the recollection of your past.
It was like you had always thought—Shouto was such a breath of fresh air next to your former partners. You genuinely couldn’t believe someone could be so nice and understanding before he popped into your life. That being said, you felt guilty that he’d been questioning his worth as your boyfriend because of this, going as far as to doubt his competence in bed by how he could barely excite a proper moan off your lips, when you have felt nothing but bliss the entire time with him.
“I’m sorry I never mentioned this until now,” you murmured, your voice dwindling. Your hands enveloped the ceramic holding your tea, warming your palms and casting a blanket of security in an otherwise awkward position. Sensing you faltering into your docile nature, Shouto pried one of your hands off the cup and encased it in his own. His left side offered you another source of solace that beckoned your eyes to him.
“Regardless of what anyone thinks, I want you to know that that doesn’t matter to me. Whether you’re quiet or loud, soft or rough, or anything else.” He caressed his thumb against the back of your hand, inching it closer to him. “All I care about is that you’re you, and as a couple, we shouldn’t be afraid to express ourselves in front of each other, right?”
Then as a final sign of his sincerity, his lips met your skin, grazing your knuckles against them ever so lightly but just enough that you felt the disparate coldness that made your skin tingle and your heart react all the same. His words immediately pierced through you, helping you to open your eyes and remember just what your relationship stood for after countless moments spent unconditionally loving each other. A softened smile graced your lips that glowed before Shouto’s eyes, to which he couldn’t help but replicate, the newfound light in your pupils dazzling and infectious.
Basking in his affirmations, you gently drew your entwined hands to your side so you could return the favor and place a delicate kiss on the edge of his pinky finger. “Thank you, Sho. You have no idea how much your words mean to me.”
Eyes lidded in relief, he was glad everything was resolved and your insecurities were washing away down the stream, as were his.
Which meant it was fine for him to tease you a bit, right? He had to take advantage of the opportunity while it was fresh, the impish bone in his body acting impulsively. Rising slightly from his seat, he slanted across the table to wane the gap and hover next to your ear.
“You’ll let me hear them next time, won’t you? All your pretty noises?” he whispered huskily, making sure you knew those words were for you and you alone. According to how your eyes immediately fled toward your lap—unable to will yourself to return your gaze straight at him—you got the message.
“O-Of course…” you replied softly, nervous yet unable to ignore the excitement that pumped through your veins, thinking about what the future might entail from here on out. Shouto reverted to his side, easing away from your space.
After downing the remnants of his ground coffee, he reached for his wallet to pull out a hefty tip to leave on your table. Walking over to your seat, he helped you up, your hands naturally lacing together. He leaned over to adorn a kiss against your hair, whispering about how he would look forward to you keeping your promise, then escorted you both out of the cafe.
It was no surprise to the pair that “next time” came very, very soon.
In a short span of only a couple hours actually, after you’d concluded your business throughout the day and found yourselves at Shouto’s residence once again.
You could hardly wait until you were beyond the borders of his home, struggling to keep your hands to yourselves the entire drive there ever since that flicker of passion sparked in the aftermath of your date. The second you crossed that threshold, Shouto pounced on you before you could even pull your heels off, pushing your back against the closed door.
You instinctively opened your mouth to allow his tongue to prod your cavern and dance against yours. Your motions led to teeth clashing and irregular breaths blending together in a tempest that grew more rampant with every second you clung to each other in the entryway. You both possessed a desperate need to feel the other’s warmth within your palms, pawing at the clothes on your backs as you ached to be rid of them.
Languidly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, Shouto nipped at the fragile outer layer with enough pressure that rushed heat to the surface, and released it from his mouth to observe its plushness bouncing back.
After detaching your lips—albeit with notable reluctance—his forehead rested on yours. His arms were at either side of your head, trapping you as you both broke out into rough breaths. He brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing against your bottom lip that felt scorching beneath the pad of his finger.
Peering at him, you watched delirium swirl in the icy hues of his eyes that observed every detail he could behold. He looked as if he was devouring you with his potent stare alone, marveling at his treasure with the most wanton expression on his handsome face. To have this much of an effect over Shouto still after months of being together set a flare off inside you.
Thoroughly recalling that conversation from the cafe, you were starting to grow braver with every minute that passed. Your shy nature withered at your boldness, triggering you to part more of your lips as your hazy eyes locked with his firmly.
“Shouto~” you moaned. The airy wisp that teemed from your lips was soft yet very much audible to Shouto’s ears. His senses perked up at the sound of your voice registering to him cleanly and he swore the friend in his pants twitched at the sweet utter of his name.
Fuck, what did he have to do to hear more? Shouto had asked himself this, but his body was very aware of the answer, already moving on its own, urged by the dull ache between his legs.
“C’mere–” Shouto left his actions to do most of the talking, too impatient to get his words across. He tugged you off the door, embracing you in his arms before you were easily hoisted over his shoulder.
Giddiness bubbling, you giggled at his display of strength. You were no stranger to this scene, where Shouto’s eagerness found you both in his bedroom at breakneck speeds. However, this occasion was different from the others.
The flames of arousal had flickered in your veins, weaving their way through your entire system. You both knew the blaze would grow until you were practically delirious with arousal and begging with desperation in your voice for that fire to be doused by only him. No one else. Shouto counted on it—counted on you to plead and scream for him by the end of the night. You made a promise after all, and by your show of neediness at the door, you were willing to give him just what he wanted, what he craved.
It was all a matter of how many saccharine sounds he could provoke off your lips. When he had entered his bedroom, he already had a clear idea just how he was going to get every noise he could think of out of you. But first…
Shouto slid you safely down his shoulder, where as soon as you touched the ground he resumed devouring your lips.
“Mmph–” Spit pooled in your throat, your tongue and body suppressed in a whirlwind that forced you backwards. You stumbled onto soft bedding that was, to your surprise, more elevated than you were expecting. The man grinned against you, foreseeing the mild amazement on your face. When you separated with a thread of spit connecting your lips, you pawed at your surroundings, immediately grasping the expansive king-size bed below you that was slightly raised on a wooden platform frame.
Reading the reaction on your face, the man above you chuckled. “You like it? I had it installed a couple of days ago.”
You had to admit that this spacious mattress was definitely an upgrade from Shouto’s futon, which was originally supposed to fit only one adult man. Still, you made do with what you had at the time, and though certain positions were limited with the space you were given, you hadn’t ever complained.
As for Shouto, the new bed was a rather impulsive decision, one that was spurred by the many nights he shared with you, tucking you in at his side until morning came. He couldn’t help but splurge on it. To him, it would all be worth it in the end.
With plans of how to make good use of the new bed floating in his mind, Shouto’s grin edged on a smirk as he crept closer to your ear.
“Why don’t we try and break it in?”
His deep voice dripped with a suggestive lilt that made your thighs almost clench together, if not for the fact that Shouto was already situated between them. Instead, you felt a pang between your legs. Your cunt undoubtedly ached for him, sticking to your panties with slick.
Shouto crawled backwards until he was low enough to reach your ankles and pried your shoes still clinging to your feet, dismissing them to the floor. Remaining where you were, you watched him nip at the skin of your legs, carving an upward trail. His painstakingly scrupulous journey began at your ankles, traveling to tenderly kiss your shin. He followed the path up until he eventually reached your soft thighs.
You shivered at every wet caress against your skin, noting the alternating temperatures of each kiss that kept you guessing. “Sho…” you sighed while fighting off the impulse to bite your lip—a habit of yours since your encounters with your ex.
“Mm,” he hummed in content at your quiet plea, continuing to nip at your thighs as he switched between them. Hooking his hands under your knees, he pulled your legs apart and your skirt rode up your hips to reveal the wet patch on your panties. At the sight, Shouto licked his lips.
The instinct to dive down and drag the flimsy fabric to the side so he could give himself free range to go to town on your cunt was more tempting than words could really describe. But where’s the fun in taking things too fast? Shouto was a patient man and he planned on dragging the night out just for you.
For the time being, he settled with planting a kiss on your clothed slit, sparing it short-lived attention. You were about to rock your hips against him, but he pulled away too soon and left you whimpering as you shuddered at the fleeting sensation of his mouth against your damp panties. Seeing the disappointment on your face, Shouto sent you a reassuring smile while rubbing gentle circles on your outer thighs.
“Wanna take my time tonight... So be good and let me hear you like you promised. Give me the pleasure of hearing all your moans and screams while you’re stuffed with me.”
Your eyes widened, flustered upon hearing his request, but you soon realized something.
Let me hear you.
You remembered those were the words that Shouto spoke to you on the night you first had sex together, and how at the time, you pushed them away and did nothing but made your voice even quieter. But after today, you were determined to make amends with yourself and make up for all those times you relinquished him the full satisfaction of hearing his partner.
With all that said, you nodded fervently in reply. Making out the hardened resolve hidden in your eyes, he got to work at returning your enthusiasm, finding the zipper of your skirt and removing your clothing off your person.
Throughout his show of undressing you, he made sure to keep your mind occupied on his ministrations. His lips found home on any area they could touch while his hands sought to get more of your clothes off. He relished every needy whine he pulled from you throughout the process, worshipping your body until you surely developed a cavity from his honeyed praises. You noticed he was adamant about keeping your panties hugging your lower-half, only going as far as to remove your bra after your blouse floated off somewhere beside you.
Once that was done, you were left exposed before him. You were expecting Shouto to follow suit, but he suddenly stood from the bed and trailed over to his nightstand. He jerked the top drawer open and rummaged his hand inside. You sat up, staring at him with furrowed brows. He wasn’t going to pull out a condom was he? There was no need for one—you’d established that you’d been on birth control since the beginning of your relationship. Plus, nothing would please you more than to hug Shouto’s raw, hard cock in your welcoming walls.
“Aren’t you going to undress?”
He continued his short search in the drawer, not meeting your eyes yet as he replied, “Oh, I will. But I don’t think it’s really gonna matter.”
You cocked your head. “Why?”
Your question was answered through Shouto completing his search as he pulled something out for you to see.
“Because I want you to wear this tonight.”
Your eyes locked onto a strip of lace fabric dangling between his fingers, an elaborate design sown on the material similar to a pattern you’d find on a set of lingerie.
“You want me to wear a blindfold?” You voiced the situation as you saw it.
He grinned at your obvious bemusement. “I read somewhere that shutting down one of your senses helps to amplify the others,” he went on to explain, pinching the black satin straps on each end to flatten out the material, “and of course, it adds an extra element of surprise, don’t you think?”
As he approached the bedside, you glanced back and forth at him and the blindfold, acknowledging that he was making a daring effort at spicing things up tonight. It was likely part of his ploy to wrestle your noises out.
There was silence where you should’ve responded. Shouto knelt on the edge of the bed. “Well baby, are you up for using this? It’s fine if you aren’t.”
“No, no, I’ll put it on. It seems like a fun idea,” you said earnestly. You weren’t letting a measly blindfold impede you tonight. That aside, you also held truth in your words. The prospect of obstructing your precious vision while Shouto had his way with you was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Right before he lifted the blindfold toward you, Shouto stopped himself. “But first, what’s the safeword?” he diligently reminded you.
“Nea... Neapolitan.”
A smile graced his lips, rewarding your answer with a kiss on your temple. “Good girl.” He then prompted you to turn around so he could tie the lace material over your eyes.
In an instant, you saw nothing but darkness as pitch black consumed your vision. Your other senses began to fill in the emptiness left by your lack of sight, the sounds surrounding you amplified from even the quietest of rustles. Goosebumps ghosted your arms at the soft sheets suddenly embracing your back while Shouto’s rough hands situated you to lay your head against the pillow.
Your arousal heightened at every detail your enhanced senses could pick apart in the darkness. Just hearing the light shuffling of Shouto’s clothes being tossed off his built body while in the void made it unbearable for you to stay still. Your imagination kicked into gear to fill in the murky gaps, forming the image of his toned, contoured body that you’ve been so acquainted with. You could hear your heartbeat quicken at the thought.
You hadn’t realized that your hand started acting on its own accord, embarking up a route toward your breasts with a goal of relieving your deprivation. But Shouto didn’t grant you any gratification through self-pleasure. Grabbing your wrist, he cut your path short.
“No touching. That’s my job tonight.” His voice husked, the domineering edge making you pliant on command. You gulped and obediently withdrew your hand.
It wasn’t long until he fixed himself above you, the mattress dipping with the weight of his arms close to your body. Even with your sight stolen, you could register Shouto near your face, taking his time admiring your form beneath him. His icy breath ghosted your trembling lips.
“If you get uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll stop right away. But until then, don’t expect me to go easy on you, love.” He offered a warning before diving into the heat of action.
A whimper escaped you amidst Shouto blazing his lips in an icy-hot trail down your jawline and your neck. You swore that a path of steam must have floated off your skin at the chilled nibbles that quickly fused into a searing sensation. The sudden transition from cold to hot left you squirming under him. You tilted your head into the pillow, panting out broken breaths. As a result, Shouto gave extra attention to the area, mapping the expanse of your neck.
“Focus on me. It’s just you and me tonight,” he commanded, glancing up to watch you at odds with yourself and these simulations. Then a solid gasp tore from your lungs as he sunk his teeth in your neck without warning, applying enough pressure to break skin and undoubtedly embed a mark. You focused on the sharp pain puncturing you before it steadily dispersed, your head digging into the pillow as your mouth parted with a squeal.
Shouto brushed his fingers around the spot he bit, admiring the hickey that was now embellished there. “You can’t see it, but this mark looks so pretty on you, sweetheart,” he said without a hint of dishonestly shrouded in his words. “I hope you don’t mind if I give you another one…”
“Ah–!” You couldn’t even voice your fondness for the idea as the icy-hot man went ahead and dug his teeth in the crook of your neck again, making your mouth only good for wailing sounds of pleasure. Your arms weaved around him, a hand in his hair to secure yourself while blinded.
“Hm, that was a good one…” Shouto murmured, focusing on your sounds. “But I’m sure you got more than just that.” Learning about what your ex had the gall to say to you had made him determined to rectify that idiot’s mistake and snatch your noises all for himself.
He proceeded planting open-mouth kisses toward the valley of your breasts, landing on a curve of soft flesh.
“When this is over, I’m gonna make all your exes nothing but a bad dream,” he muttered with your tits in his face, silky strands of dual-colored locks fanned out and tickling your skin. Finding your chest quite comfortable to lay on, Shouto nuzzled himself between them. At one point, you thought he was simply going to remain there and bask in the atmosphere, however, that belief was quickly squashed with a hitched breath stuttering your lungs. His left hand engulfed one of your breasts, kneading the tender mound with a heated palm.
“Make them wish they were here and regret every lie they ever said to you.” He continued musing sweet promises to your ears, but your mind was locked onto him teasing your breast. His thumb and index finger tantalized the hot pebble between them—twisting, rolling, and even pulling with a delicious amount of pressure that made your teeth grind together and for you to grip more of his red and white hair.
The thought of leaving your other tit unattended while its twin was receiving all the attention left his palate bitter. Maybe he could wash it off with a taste…
His tongue ran along the arc of your other mound in a circular motion, slowly moving toward the erect nub in the center that grew increasingly sensitive the closer he got. The tip of that mischievous tongue had dropped in temperature upon reaching the outer ring and languidly traced your areola. Your fingers that were woven in his hair tightened, dragging at his scalp. His ministrations had earned him an raspy moan as he flattened the appendage wholly against the exposed nipple, gliding over it with coolness clinging to the muscle that evoked a long whine past your lips.
Your body curved off the bed and delivered more of your flesh in his mouth. At your generosity, he sucked away, ravishing the stiff bud while staying consistent with his work on the opposite one, pinching harder with his tepid digits.
His pace was hungry and erratic, manipulating the hot and cold that struck your body like unrelenting waves against rocky shores. The sensations were becoming unbearable, especially with the blindfold amplifying every simulation that attacked you. Your senses were climbing at their peak and as a result, you foresaw a flame kindling in your belly.
“Wait—fuck—Sho, if you keep playing with my– I might– Shit!” Broken curses spilled off your tongue, coming to terms that it was futile to stop your orgasm from sneaking up on you. An explosion of nerves were crackling under your skin. Your mouth hung open to let loose a drawn-out cry that was loud enough to ring in Shouto’s ears, much to his delight—one of the first he had the privilege of hearing thus far. That beautiful sound alone told him exactly what happened. He sat up, a peculiar look in his eye.
“Did you just orgasm from me playing with your nipples?”
You laid still, your lips pursed in a line. Your mortification was written on your face—readable even with that band of lace hiding your expressive eyes. Realizing your answer, Shouto’s lips curled, pride swelling in his chest. He was by your side before your self-consciousness could overwhelm you, with nothing to gauge his reaction in the darkness.
“Fuck, is that sexy. Your sounds are so so pretty. You’re just so full of surprises tonight, sweetheart. It’s almost like I’m the one that’s being blinded here.” He bent down to keep your mouth company while shaping your sensitive tits in his hands, massaging them affectionately to ease the tension knotted inside them.
You couldn’t help your curious nature from uttering a question between kisses. “Have you ever… made anyone else cum like that?”
He moved to favor your cheek, a finger edging beneath the waistband of your panties. “No, baby. You’re the first.”
Hearing that washed away both the jealousy and uncertainty churning inside you. You were aware that Shouto had also been with others prior to you, not at all surprised when he disclosed that information at the start of your relationship. And though your time together grew to be the longest of all your old flames, you couldn’t help but occasionally compare yourself to his former partners. Learning that there was one unique aspect you shared with Shouto made you happier than you could admit.
Your blithe musings were quickly torn by the sneaky set of fingers prodding further inside your panties. Gliding his lithe yet calloused digits through your slippery folds, Shouto gathered a glossy coat around his fingers. A strained whimper leaked off your tongue. Your throbbing pussy was finally given relief after screaming to be touched since the very start.
You could hear how obscenely wet you were, your inner thighs soaked with slick arousal that made you want to bury your face in the pillows and fold them over your ears. You were at least glad the blindfold offered some form of blissful ignorance.
“Shit. You absolutely ruined this pair, love. No point wearing them anymore.” He hooked onto the panties and pulled them off, the material wringing as it rolled past your legs. His heterochromatic eyes roved over the dampness saturated at the crotch, appraising how soiled your underwear had gotten through your contactless orgasm. “Maybe I should keep these as a souvenir.”
You couldn’t determine whether he was joking or not. Regardless, it was hard not to react to the lewd implications of his words. “Oh, you…” Despite his clean princely image, Todoroki Shouto could be so dirty when he wanted to be, always knowing just how to push your buttons to get you hot and bothered.
His middle and ring fingers ran along your inner labia, purposely circling your entrance. He was so close to where you needed him to touch you, but it seemed like he was beating around the bush.
A desperate plea eluded you. “Sho– Please…”
Amused, Shouto watched your lips quiver as you tried calling out to him. “You want me to do something, baby? Go on then, tell me.” He cooed encouragement that compelled you to reveal your desires.
“Touch my clit…” Listening to the words that departed you, your voice evaporated into a whisper. Your dripping cunt was aching and closing around nothing as you throbbed with want. “Please, I… I need it.”
“You need it, huh?” he reiterated and you were quick to return that question with a frantic bob of your head. “If that’s the case then I’ll do more than just touch.”
Not a beat later did you feel something slippery join your engorged clit. You squirmed upon contact, discerning the skilled flicking motions to be his tongue on you again.
“Goddddd…” you drawled, the purposeful licks against you slowly making you come undone. Shouto reveled in you thrashing from the ecstasy coursing through your body. He relished every note of your wanton song as he toyed with the sensitive pearl in his mouth. At one point, he had caught you folding the sides of your pillow into your face, leaning your head into the cushion, and obstructing your noises from him. Of course, that wouldn’t fly with Shouto.
He paused his feasting to draw your hands away. You were confused as to why he stopped and where your hands were being led toward until you felt silky locks between your digits again.
“Your hands belong in my hair, got it? I don’t want them anywhere else.” His words vibrated on your clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure throughout your body as he expected you to pull on his scalp, especially when his fingers finally joined the fray. “You’re already wet enough for me to put two fingers in. Maybe three?” He tested the waters with two fingers inserted into your folds and you gasped at the immediate stretch upon entry. A chuckle reverberated from his lungs. He stuck to only two for now, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. He skillfully slipped his digit in and out of you, spreading your legs further apart whenever you tried to clamp them around his head, balling your hands in his strands.
“Fuck do I love this pussy… You’re so damn beautiful, fuck!” He couldn’t help but pour out praises when you were becoming such a hot mess for him, grinding your wet cunt on his tongue, and drowning in delirium that made your eyes on the verge of rolling back. Now with three of them inside you, his fingers opened you up, preparing you for his erection that was weeping, eager to be embraced by that pretty pussy of yours.
“Shit..! I-I can’t–!” you muttered between moans—a warning that your second orgasm was approaching quicker than the first. This time, Shouto had the mind to take the hint, smirking against your slit. To your astonishment, all sensations were suddenly ripped away from you, reducing you to feeling frustratingly empty and that knot in your belly to unwind altogether.
Pitch blackness still clung to your eyes as your upper body rose from the bed in retaliation. “Sho! What the fuck, I almost came!” Irritation laced your words, an exasperated look overtaking your features. You were sure he could make it out even with the damn blindfold covering half your face.
Expecting such a reaction, Shouto let out a quiet, dark laugh. You were coming out of your shell in more ways than one tonight. His hand snuck beneath your chin to yank you closer so you could hear every harrowing word off his tongue.
“Sorry to ruin your fun, but I want you on all fours. Right now.”
You could tell he had flipped a switch from his tone alone. Silently gulping down the thick lump in your throat, you turned around in place. You didn’t dare take the blindfold off just yet, maneuvering your body into position without question, no matter how awkwardly you were moving.
Ass poised in the air, hands and knees resting on the sheets, you had no idea how you appeared before his eyes. Judging by the breathy intake of air you heard behind you, you wanted to say he was satisfied.
Oh, was he satisfied alright. More than he could’ve ever asked for. “Ooo.. fuck me…” His palms laid flat on your ass, hands molding into your flesh and rubbing your plushness that spilled between his fingers. “A perfect ass, along with such a–” his thumbs ran toward your core, spreading your folds for him to see your drenched and twitching cunt, “perfect pussy.”
Your nails delved into the sheets, mouth gaping open when you felt something hard and veiny rut against your slit. You could manifest every ridge of his cock in your head, feeling it brush along your clit that was still sensitive from his tantalizations.
“Ah..!” A yelp fled your mouth, released by the sudden smack that stung your ass. That jolt of pain subsided underneath the caresses of his cold, right hand. Shouto rolled your flesh in his palm, gazing down with hooded eyes at your vulnerable form that urged for his cock to ruin you.
He licked his lips. “I’m gonna wreck you, sweetheart.”
“I-I– Mmph... ” Your words locked in your throat, overturned by the head of his cock slipping into your awaiting pussy. “Oh fuck...” you cursed at the stretch, your folds flowering slowly as you spread more of your legs to try and accommodate his size. You thought you would’ve been used to his girth by now, but to your amazement, Shouto’s cock deliciously sprawled you open time and time again.
“You’re so... so damn tight…” Biting his lip, the white and red haired hero suppressed the instinct to roughly thrust forward, but damn, were you making it hard. His head was dizzy with desire and need as his cock stuttered, sheathing itself between your warm, constricting walls.
At the same time, your entire body quivered in delight, feeling so full of him. Your skin dewed with sweat, anticipating the pounding that was about to come, to the point where you couldn’t bear the suspense anymore.
Luckily for you, Shouto somehow read your mind, moving his hips back and then forward to set the tempo. You drawled a sigh of relief, greedily sucking all of him in. You swore you were steadily getting drunk off his plunging cock, thoughts escaping you carelessly.
“Mmm, more…” you chanted.
“More?” Shouto quirked a brow, zoning in on your request.
“Yes, more. Harder. Faster. Please, I need everything you can give me.” You’ve never been this vocal in bed with him before, usually placing your trust in him to take care of you since your voice would only fail you in those situations. Yet this time, you were eager to play with fire, no matter how much you’d burn. “Thought you said you were gonna wreck me? Do it then.”
Threatening shadows glazed over his turquoise and gray eyes, your challenge awakening a fiend inside him.
Harder? Faster? Such an insatiable little thing. Shouto was going to give you all of that and more.
“You asked for this,” large, battle-hardened hands connected against skin, urging another enthusiastic squeal of yours to resonate in the air, “fucking slut.”
His unbridled vigor rocketed into motion, hips snapping forward and pistoning your sloppy cunt that obscenely clamped around him. Taken by surprise at his escalating speed and power, your body lunged forward. Your mouth hung wide in an ‘O’ shape, singing a lewd mantra of moans that grew louder with every strong thrust rippling through your body.
“Agh..! Mm.. fuckfuckfuck–!” Any noise that brimmed from your lips echoed across the spacious room, bouncing off the walls and pleasantly resounding back into Shouto’s ears. He rooted the euphony deep in his mind, planning to put it on repeat later for his own gratification.
Damn, what kind of a dumbass was your ex to say what you were spewing out of your mouth while being jackhammered by cock was anything but sexy. As far as he was concerned, no one was ever good enough for you to begin with.
“Everything about you is so fucking beautiful… Your body, your moans, this greedy little pussy… All mine.” His thoughts escaped him, echoing an unwavering statement. “No other man is gonna matter except me, you hear?”
His cock was stirring too much of your insides and turning your brain to mush for you to properly comprehend his words. Your upper body gradually sunk into the mattress, tongue lolling out of you as your eyes rolled back into your lids, cloaked beneath the lace. Your lack of response earned you a blaring slap against your asscheek. Blood spiked at your rear, splitting you from your fucked-out trance.
Moderate heat enveloped his left palm as he delivered one more impact against your ass to fully seize your attention. You shot up with a piercing yelp, the pulsating ache flashing a gleam of red in the corner of your surrounding darkness. Gripping the back of your head, Shouto mildly tugged your scalp.
“Keep screaming so I know whose whore you are. Don’t even think about stopping.” He breathed chills next to the shell of your ear. Your arms shook at the weight of his words, squishy inner walls clenching in shameless response around his length.
“Mm… Mm-hmm...” you forced a whimper.
Each considerate thought in your head shattered as quickly as it was formed thanks to the unrelenting thrusts snapping against your ass. You willed the next statement out as best as you could, pulling your slurs apart. “Yours… Only yours… I-I love you, Shoooo…”
Endearment consumed him and Shouto couldn’t stop his lips from brushing your cheek, darkened exterior mellowing in the light of your sincerity.  
“Oh baby, I just want to make you feel good… God, you especially make me feel so amazing. Your cunt keeps squeezing on my cock like it was made for me, what did I do to deserve you?”
His saccharine praises drowned in the waves of your sputtering as you uttered filth into the hot stuffy atmosphere, which was further met by the echoing of skin against skin and Shouto’s guttural snarls.
His hands were secured at your hips to leverage himself as he pounded into you vigorously. You clutched on the sheets for dear life with tears dampening the fabric wrapped around your shut eyes. The knot in your stomach that had loosened up when Shouto rejected you from your impending climax before this was tangling into a searing tight ribbon. “Sh-Shouto, please I wanna cum—please make me c-cum..!” you begged without a care, voice loud and clear.
Taking your request into consideration, he caressed his rough hands up your hips and waist. “Since you’re doing such a good job being vocal tonight, I think I should give you your reward–” His pace thundered into a merciless rhythm, heavy balls hitting the underside of your pussy as he rutted deeper and faster into your walls.
“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you droned continuously, intoxicated by the blistering tension intensifying in your lower-half.
“Cum on my cock while I paint you sticky white. Scream my fucking name for me– Let me hear you.” Fingers embedded the skin of your hips, likely leaving bruises as he kept up the frenzied tempo of his thrusts, hitting that heavenly zone that made your back arch.
“There! There! Yes, yes, yes–!” Your chants inevitably died on your tongue, melting into incoherent stammers of approval until a deafening scream rippled from your tired lungs. The sound was unlike any you’ve unleashed before. After so much time containing yourself from fully embracing the feeling of sweet release and euphoria, you swore you were on the verge of blacking out from the intensity.
Lights flashed in the darkness consuming your vision, igniting like fireworks in every corner of your eyes while sparks bursted beneath your skin. Your limbs gave way for you to tumble onto the sheets, letting yourself be held up by Shouto who used you to achieve his own climax.
Witnessing such a beautiful, genuine sound from your parched lips while you gushed fervently around his cock, it didn’t take long for him to reach his peak. “C-Cumming!” He smacked his hips into you one last time to still himself, cock twitching within your pussy. Dumping his thick seed inside you, he filled your walls until there was no space left and his cream trickled out of your folds.
“So perfect, you’re so damn perfect, sweetheart. I love you so damn much.” Shouto used what energy he had left to muse nothing but affection for you, removing his softened length while soothing your body with tender touches. He admired your spent body beneath him that couldn’t summon an ounce of strength to even move. He took it upon himself to clean you up and take care of you, reaching for a towel to dry off the moisture clinging to your skin and finally relieve you of the blindfold to restore your sight.
Beams of light trickled your corneas, having to blink in numerous succession to adjust to the bright environment. Once your focus returned, you met Shouto’s grinning, handsome face, glad to be graced by it after what felt like an eternity. He swiped his thumbs below your eyes to rid you of the tears that had ended up streaking down your face. You held one of his hands that was attached to your cheek, turning over to kiss his palm.
As soon as you wiped yourselves down, he joined you on the bed, drawing you to his side so he could lovingly devour you with cuddles and pecks.
“That was…”
“Amazing?” he finished for you, running a warm hand up your arm and giving it a squeeze.
“Yeah, and more actually.” You giggled mirthfully, basking in the afterglow of sex as you nuzzled yourself in the crook of his neck.
Shouto petted the top of your head, but kept the conversation going. “You know, after all that’s happened today… From our talk at the cafe to the mind-blowing sex just now, I think it’s about time I gave you something.”
You glanced up at him with a curious quirk of your brow. “Hm? What ‘something’?”
“It’s something I’ve been meaning to hand over to you for a while now.” He rose from the bed, scooting off the sheets. “Close your eyes for me.”
“Heehee, you could always blindfold me again.” Your joke earned you a chuckle.
“Tempting, but I’ll leave that again for next time, love. Now if you would…”
You followed his request, lidding your eyes to fuel your evergrowing curiosity. You honed in on where Shouto’s steps took him, realizing he was still by the bedside, rummaging around the drawers. Then you heard a rattle of metal and him rustling back onto the mattress as he placed a cold, steely item in your hand.
You didn’t have to open your eyes to figure out what the object was by the jagged ridges rubbing against your palms. But your expression of astonishment didn’t diminish at the reveal either way.
“This is–”
“The key to my house.”
Those words could have only meant one thing.
You trailed from the key to Shouto’s face, silently asking if he was serious. A smile lifted his lips, hand wrapping around yours to curl your fingers into the key, making sure you registered the fact that yes, he was dead set on his offer to you.
“I want you to live with me, Y/n. This big place means nothing to me if I can’t share part of it with you,” he told you earnestly, a finger brushing your cheek to caress your jaw.
Shouto laid back on the expansive bed, but never tore his eyes away from you as he gazed at you expectantly. Through everything that had happened, you knew there was only ever one answer you could give him.
You dove for his lips, linking yourselves together while tightly gripping the golden key in your hand.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Tumblr media
copyright 2021 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
5K notes · View notes
mxchellesworld · 4 years
Text
Discuss!
Spencer Reid x Reader
Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out
Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 
a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
***
Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 
Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 
Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 
Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 
You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 
“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 
Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 
“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 
“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 
“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 
The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 
“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 
He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 
“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 
“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 
“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 
You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 
That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 
You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 
Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 
Got him.
“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 
As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 
For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 
The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 
You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 
“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 
As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 
You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 
Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 
“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 
The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 
“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 
“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 
“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 
As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-
“Y/n?” 
The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 
His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 
“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 
“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 
You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 
As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 
You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”
Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 
“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 
“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 
“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 
His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 
“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 
The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 
You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 
“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”
“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 
Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 
“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 
“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 
“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 
“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 
The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 
You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 
You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”
He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 
For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 
Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 
You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 
“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”
“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 
“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 
Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 
“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”
His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 
You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 
The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 
Then a sad look came across his face. 
“Spencer what’s wrong?” 
“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 
“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.
He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 
“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 
3K notes · View notes
reidingmelodies · 4 years
Text
Finders Keepers
Tumblr media
A/N:  It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K
“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.
Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.
Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  
Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.
Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.
“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.
“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”
“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.
The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  
Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.
***
As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.
The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.
As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        
***
Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.
“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.
“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”
“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.
It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.
***
A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.
As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.
Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.
“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.
“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.
“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.
“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.
“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.
“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.
“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”
The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.
“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.
Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.
“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.
The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.
***
The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  
He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.
“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.
As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  
Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.
As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.
“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”
The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-
“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.
***
Link to join my taglist ♡
3K notes · View notes