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lovesaadiqa · 10 months

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the unthethered soul

this book is one that keeps on giving or growing me i should say. my second time reading it helped me realized the different spaces i was in before and now. i seldom go back and read my entries, its kinda of cringe for me especially when i don't see in growth from one post to another, stagnation makes me sad. anyway i cried alot the first time i read this book and this time im highlighting like hell. just to catch me up, ive been driving over the road for 5 months now, initially soothing myself with music, empty conversation from random people and as dangerous as it sounds, tv, movies and murder mysteries. the last 30 days has been silent asf on my truck, no nothing! the window down and my thoughts. i gave the book another go round but ive been applying what im reading and this shit is no joke! ive learned how to know when im in the seat of self, how to be aware of my awareness, how to watch my emotions form, how to disconnect from what im seeing and pay attention to how whatever it is im seeing is making me feel. amateur at best but today was another monster and i can see how i definitely will need my awareness to grow and how consistency will play a major role in how fast i can find my freedom.

its 4th of july, no the weekend, the literal day. i'd been driving for 4 hours and go to my receiver super early because when i started my route i forgot the time zone was going to change. i arrived at 1:30 cst and am told the ppl who unload me was changing shifts and i'd have to wait until 3:45.. there's no pressure but its hard asf to find parking in general but especially on a holiday or weekend so idgaf about nothing but finding parking because im less than 1/2 mile aware from a flying j and dont wanna have to get back on the highway to find parking. i get back in my truck, eat and get on social media. i can feel someone unloading me but it's nowhere near 3:45 so i grab my paperwork and march my ass inside hype like "yes, imma be outta here soon" i get in a realize it was an over zealous worker who came in early for holiday pay (i'd still have to wait for my paperwork to get signed). someone shows up in the office right at 3:45 and im told they have to count and verify my freight which would be at least 30-45 more mins. im ok with that because my appt time wasn't until 5pm and im already unloaded before 4. it's gets dumb tricky because im notified im counted and good to go, i get inside and the guy who is to give me my papers says i have to pay a lumper fee. i've never in all my months had to pay a lumper fee, in fact i don't know wtf that is so i call my dm and I get Matt (he's a rude sob and hate hearing his damn voice) who tells me i have to send a message form. i do as im told but get a reference number on my tablet that says give this to the ppl inside to pay, i get inside give them the code and they tell me to put it in the payment slot on the text they sent (in my head im screaming "what fucking text") -- fuck the rest of the story

as im walking back and forth from my truck to the receiver i can feel the agitation building, my responses are on the rude side, i can hear my consciousness forewarning me that im getting heated. i tried to feel what was happening inside of me as im also trying to remain professional. i tell myself that im only frustated because i dont think im going to be able to find parking, im losing it becasue wtf is a lumper fee and wtf you mean i have to pay it, what text did you send me on top of hearing "western express this is Matt" lmmfaooooo. i get to the fucking gate to leave and the bitch gone say "can you pull all the way up im pregnant and i dont feel like walking to the back of your trailer. i legit wanted to run her tf over because bitch you at work and pregnant ppl arent handicapped HOT!!!! In the time it took me to tell myself to calm and actually calming down i ran a stop sign and drove past the flying j entrance.

then i get to my lil to do list and im supposed to read a chapter: Removing Your Inner Thorn (im literally fighting back tears writing this) the second fucking sentence "In order to grow, you must give up the struggle to remain the same, and learn to embrace change at all time" ATE ME TF UP! Im not the same because now i have the awareness to spot, feel and identify my emotions before they have me in a chokehold. knowing all that i still copped an attitude and let them run me. this chapter talks about have a literal thorn piercing a nerve and the options you have to avoid the pain. first option is to avoid anything that will touch, bother, graze, tap, irritate your torn.. second option, remove the fucking thorn all together! a few lines that made me legit get my laptop, come into the pilot and write this entire entry: if you decide you have to keep things from touching the thorn, then that becomes the work of a lifetime; the life of protecting yourself from the problem becomes a perfect reflection of the problem itself; you can actually fell that because you've minimized the pain of the problem, you've solved the problem.. all you did was devote your life to avoiding it; the problem will be back the moment the external situation fails to protect you from what's inside; you are not the pain you feel; the thorns naturally work themselves out if you stop protecting them; you do no get rid of loneliness (or any thorn sadness, depression, anxiety, short temper, a broken heart, abdandonment) you just cease to be involved with it, it just another thing in the universerse like cars, glass or the stars.

i cant began to explain how i did the work and then read the book. there is no joy like getting it. i understand now. im praying for more situations to arise so i can better at this and win inner peace for myself. the ultimate goal for me is to sit in the seat of self and remain there.. i just know with my whole heart i will read this book until the cover falls off because it is a complete guide to spiritual freedom, in my opinion. i have about 6 books on my truck right now and this one is the most got a second read before i finished any of the other one for a first time. im happy to be here. in this space, with this awareness and the understanding of what to do with it and how if benefits me. i will get so fucking good at this!!

i hope when you come back to read this it wont be cringe babygirl. i wish you nothing but healing and total well being. to think that coming face to face with a pain that made you know want to wake up no more got you here is nothing but God's love for you. its so important to realize that it was all necessary! forgive, relax and release Saadiqa but most importantly remain thank for it all. equipped with the know-how to watch your thoughts and detach from them should make this journey so fucking delicious. you are awareness and EVERTHING else is an object of your consciousness. the feelings, the thoughts that get stuck on repeat, other people, aging, your body.. all of it. just a thing/things you've become aware of, they are not you. never, ever, ever forget that. leaving the seat of self is such a massive step down that some people do it for a single thing and they're never able to return again. that is the prize, the gift of a life lived. Chapter 8 over and over and over and over again!!!! please get this Saadiqa it is my life's wish for you NEVER STEP DOWN!

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thedaveandkimmershow · 1 year

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It a Saturday sunny morning.

I like to let that thought sink in a little because it really is quite lovely... even though it snowed a little last night. It was really cold last night. And now it's sunny and warmer this morning.

I've got a lot to juggle today and because I feel this window opening the slightest crack, I'm gonna make good on what in the past has been a yearly tradition (ish).

It's an acknowledgement of my old neighborhood bible schoolteacher, Mrs. West. She's been gone for quite a while now and somehow I slipped into this sort of yearly visit to leave a poinsettia and a brief note at her graveside.

A few years ago, I had an artificial poinsettia and the card ready to go... but then December got away from me... and then Covid. And then another year of Covid.

Yeah.

I still wrote brief notes in those two pandemic years and today I go to lay them where they should've been... had December not gotten away from me followed by two years of not doing what we usually do.

But first I have this year's note to pen.

In the meantime, I leave this history, this once upon a time, when I was just this little boy who met someone that would be part of his thoughts every year.

This time of year.

Among the most persistent of my Christmas traditions is one with roots in my childhood… with a woman whose patience I know I pushed to its furthest limits.

Her name was Eleanor West. She lived a couple blocks from us, a few doors down from that church on the corner of 34th Avenue & Elmore Street in Magnolia, and she was a bible school teacher. She called her group of kids “The Good News Club”, and the little red-painted, white trim home she shared with her husband is where she taught us once a week after school.

I’m not sure how my mom found Mrs. West or why she decided to sign me up, but later in life Mrs. West told me how my mom actually sat in on the classes a few times, in the beginning, to make sure this was all legit.

Now, Mrs. West was one of those people in life (as were most of my grade school teachers) who I only ever knew when they were already wrinkly old. This was also a phase of my life when I was ADD boy and pretty energetic. You might also substitute the word “hyperactive” and that would work too.

Basically, I drove adults crazy.

So I know for a fact that I was not a source of peace and joy in Mrs. West’s life. Neither did I learn much from her bible school.

I would’ve had to be paying attention for that to happen.

I don’t know when I stopped attending “The Good News Club” but figure just as soon as grade school became Jr. High, if not sooner. I’m also not aware of when Mrs. West started doing this after I stopped attending, but every year on my birthday, December 23rd, she would walk the couple blocks to my house and drop off a birthday gift and a Christmas gift.

These were not extravagant gifts, of course, neither were they ever anything I wanted. In fact, I don’t remember a single present she gave me, although I do remember the scribbly handwriting attached to these small gifts and how they were not, let us say, professionally wrapped.

Eventually, Mrs. West was no longer able to walk the two blocks to my home, so I started going over to her place either on my birthday or Christmas Eve.

Why did I do this?

Well, either out of habit… or because my mom sent me over there.

Even so, I was a teenage boy, and Mrs. West and I didn’t seem to have much to talk about that I found interesting. So those first times spent in her home were mostly characterized by me figuring out the earliest opportunity I could legitimately leave.

Yeah.

Somewhere in there... I grew up.

No, really, I did.

And those times spent in Mrs. West’s home became both a kind of yearly telling of our stories as well as an opportunity to learn more about this woman I’d known for so long… but didn’t know at all.

I became fascinated with the history of her life... for hers was a life that began waaaaaaay back on July 30, 1901.

Nineteen. Oh. One.

Needless to say... there was a lot to tell.

Now, one of the different things about going over to Mrs. West’s house is that the tv was always on kind of loud. The 700 Club is what I remember most. The news a lot, too. She had no problem tracking our conversations, though.

The first time something about her struck me as not right... was that time she became suddenly and terribly distracted by the tv. It was a news “talking head” shot, and she had the distinct impression the person doing the talking was speaking directly to her. Speaking directly…

To her.

Moments later, she seemed to shake herself out of it and explained what was happening.

There were indeed times, as it turns out, she truly believed people in her television set were having conversations with her.

For a couple or three years, Mrs. West lived in this area between lucidity and full dementia. She was aware of her mental faculties slipping away.

And so it went.

At least one year in there, whilst Kimmer and I were dating, I brought Kimmer with me as well. It was possible to have conversation with Mrs. West, you just had to allow for such time as she mentally went off-line.

She still remembered tons, though.

I don’t recall the last time we were at her house, but one year I telephoned before heading over only to discover that she’d had some kind of medical event and was at what's now Genesis Healthcare: Ballard Center, a short- and long-term healthcare facility barely south of Holman Road on 8th Avenue Northwest. Kimmer went out there with me not long afterward.

It was, I’m certain, the last time we saw Mrs. West alive. We didn’t get to speak with her... because whatever happened had left her in a coma. What struck me, though, was that she physically looked the best and healthiest I’d ever seen. Someone in her life was providing for amazing physical care as the clock ticked away the final months of that life.

I called again the next year... and by that time she had, of course, died.

February 1, 1994.

She was buried at Mount Pleasant Cemetery, the one I used to pass all the time on my way to Queen Anne High. So instead of visiting at her little red home or the assisted living facility, I paid my last respects with a little card and a red poinsettia on the plaque marking her final resting place.

It was my way of saying Thank You, Mrs. West.

And that was that.

Only it wasn’t.

Every year, as Christmas draws ever nearer, she comes to mind.

She died in 1994 and I've thought of her ever since at Christmastime.

In the years following my visit to her gravesite, I've continued to leave my respects, thankfulness, and a poinsettia by her grave. Not without fail, of course, some years it doesn’t work out. Like I missed 2019 and then wasn't able in 2020 due to COVID restrictions.

Gah.

At this point it's the 22nd and yes. I've got a poinsettia. I've got a card in which I wrote a little message.

So we'll see.

There's gotta be a little time in the next week.

Still, why do it? Why is there even the need?

Good questions.

You can certainly look at it as habit or tradition... and that would be legit.

You can look at it as a gesture of thankfulness... and that would be true as well.

You can even look at it as one of those lasting connections human beings are sometimes fortunate to make.

Me?

I think of it as a reminder to myself, and anyone else who cares, that once upon a time there was a vibrant woman who, even though I drove her to distraction, managed to still show me what patience and grace look like. Up close... and in person.

The story of her life was a faith that empowered her to, and did indeed, make a difference.

Not only in my life...

But in the lives of a lot of other children as well.

Amen.

Photos from today...

#bible school teacher #poinsettia #thoughts #prayers #when i was a kid

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anlian-aishang · 2 years

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Chief Executive Officer Erwin Smith [sfw, modern AU, fem!reader, 1500 words]

Chief Executive Officer Erwin Smith never had the time for a real long-term partner. The business school blondie from ten or fifteen years ago, he experienced his share of fun. Bachelor parties for his engaged friends since then. On some certain nights, he would download dating apps only to delete them minutes later. For as much as his professional life had to show, his love life held that much less.

Climbing his way to the top had been a cunning grind. In undergraduate study jams, he collaborated with his peers only to later downplay their abilities in interview. Flaking on get-togethers for networking events and resume reviews. At the top of the top now - literally and figuratively - in this glass skyscraper and head of his tree branch. In his ivory tower, in his leather chair, recollections of that cutthroat journey always made him clench his teeth.

Having leveraged himself off the sacrifices of others, he was not blind to the fact that he had strategized his success as such. He would have had a hard time living with himself, that was, if not for the way he gave back his good: ten-fold and a little extra.

Erwin always footed the bill, always tipped the bill. His friends’ rounds on him. His employees’ gifts the latest technology. Birthday lunches all rung on his corporate card - for who would tell him no?

Working hard to pay off those debts of the past - ones unknown by their lenders, but forever in the mind of their borrower. That was what drove his motivation, his schedule, his entire life. At any given moment, the busy bee was most likely to be found in his office. The place he slept was merely his second home.

A high-rise condo. This year’s model sedan parked in his heated garage. Obsidian appliances throughout his unit. Two guest rooms in addition to his bedroom, but alas, only one inhabitant.

But for how long?

Coming home after a hard day’s work. For the first second, as he untied his shoes and hung up his coat, he reaped the rewarding satisfaction of signing off on the day. As soon as he opened his closet, though, finding only his belongings - he felt that pressure come right back on. His twenties had flown by. Forties in the distance. As the years went on, that weight only increased. Especially on Wednesday evenings: 7 PM, like clockwork, a phone call from the parents. Minutes discussing work had slivered away, replaced solely by relationship inquiries.

He told them as he told his friends as he told himself: after this project. I’ll do some bar-hopping over the holidays. I have some dates penciled in.

But if anyone could read through that lie, it was him, and the barista he saw every morning.

// // //

A law student strapped for cash, a six-figure executive, there was one commonality you shared: a workplace that was practically home.

Living above the coffee shop, your apartment shared its characteristic exposed brick and open ceilings. And as tuition, utility, and rent dues stuffed your mailbox full, as you saw your friends take up side hustles and bartending school, it seemed that your apartment itself had provided the solution for you via the HELP WANTED sign outside. After all, what better option was there?

A café downstairs and down the hallway, the shortest commute possible - waking up at 5:45 for a shift at 6. On campus and on the capitol square: city life gave you a fair enough wage. And in professional school, you found that the employee discount on caffeine was practically a benefit. Morning shifts before class gave you a kickstart to the day, gave you kind regulars to interact with - including that tall drink of water who never failed to leave a five in the jar on the daily.

Then, your internship in the afternoons. It had been clerical work at first, but as older interns went on their ways, you found yourself in their bigger shoes. Auditing budgets. Asking for signatures. Following up on whole spreadsheets of cases. Today, today though, was your biggest trial yet.

A face full of makeup. Ironed jacket, pressed pants, shining heels. Your hair still slightly damp from the shower, you hoped that you had washed out the traces of ground coffee and baked bread so as not to appear like a broke college student, and more so like he could trust me to manage millions.

Your mentor met you just outside your grind: paper-cup latte in one hand, briefcase in the other. You had wondered if you were overdressing, if you could even handle this task, but seeing Levi in his suit and with his ever cool confidence now gave you a sigh of relief.

“Good morning. Thank you for meeting me here.”

Only a single nod, “Let’s get going, save our shitty mouths for the one who pays to hear them run.”

He started off on the way and you were thankful to be in his tracks. Letting him take the lead, to follow his route, and giving you the privacy to gawk - how a man with such manners had landed in this industry.

Only a few blocks. Only so much space for awkward silence, but at the same time, only so long to ask all the questions you had.

“L’Levi,” working under him for months, but still could not help but stutter his name. Off to a great start. “Will we be visiting this client regularly?”

“No.” Levi spoke curtly, eyes sound on the path in front of him, “Not we.” Waiting for a walk sign, eye contact made through his dark shades. “This is just a one-time thing. Shadowing me. That’s all.”

Phew.

“Is there anything I should know about ‘em?” Clutching your briefcase as you jogged, catching your pace up to his.

And as much as you wanted to, you never could hide your nerves from Levi. He had trained enough novices like you, he knew an anxious sprout when he saw one. An innate knowing of how to act, how to respond - that was what landed him this position.

He gave the advice he knew you would appreciate. “He’s a nice enough guy. Been working with him for years.” A few more stretches of sidewalk, Levi bit his cheek and added, “You’ve survived under me. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

Nothing to be nervous about.

Maybe you should have come clean about your barista job.

Because maybe Levi would have remembered.

How Erwin always had your cafe’s thermos on his cherry wood desk.

And this whole thing could have been prevented.

// // //

“Levi.”

“Erwin.”

Fuck.

A sizable distance between the doors of his office and the desk behind which he stood. A distance markedly larger than the one at which you normally encountered him - just beyond the coffee bar.

It was the man your coworkers swooned over, nudging elbows to your ribs whenever you checked him out. How many times had you swiped his black card? How many times had you gone through that same brief conversation of pleasant exchanges and the smallest of talk? Good morning, Erwin! The regular? Up bright and early this morning. How are developments? The new location? Glad to hear it. Thank you for stopping by, please visit again!

Spoken so casually back then. A habit of years that had to be broken over this hour. No, right now in fact.

Indeed, he recognized you. Your hair was not in its tie, an apron replaced by dress clothes, but no nametag needed.

He had not made it this far without some sizable people skills. He could sense the situation you found yourself in. Had a feeling that Levi Ackerman did not know his most trusted assistant was swinging coffee on the side. Had a feeling the professional was totally oblivious that you and Erwin had met before outside of work.

Erwin smiled, taking a seat after Levi did, “And who is joining us today?”

Levi stayed consciously silent, a cue for you to speak up.

Lips instinctively parted, but choking up, no words came out. I thought he’d remember... Does he not remember me? Is this staged?

And what’s my name again?

Levi tossed you a side-eye and a flat lip. What the hell is the hold-up?

“I - I’m…” I uh… to you and Levi, it felt like years until you managed your name. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

That smile grew wider, brighter. “Very nice to meet you.”

// // //

Tuition payments screamed at you: you should have been listening, you should have been listening! Sitting in on the meeting between the firm’s head attorney and the city’s most powerful executive, students more qualified than you would have killed for this opportunity. Yet, here you were, not taking notes on their negotiations, but taking notes on the details in his office - taking them and running with them.

Car keys.

Lexus.

Leather wallet.

Thick.

A photo of his mother and father.

No partner.

Titanium watch.

No wedding ring.

Your surroundings started to blur. Ears droned by the back-and-forth of low deep voices. It was why you failed to see Levi get up, why you failed to hear their weaning from the conversation.

“Now, if you’ll forgive us. Seems my friend did not find us too interesting.”

Quite the opposite.

Erwin scoffed, unbothered by you, only by his legal partner, “Levi, please.” Cut her a break.

Levi, please. Cut me a break.

A minute swallow. You hurriedly outstretched a shaking hand, “Looking forward to working with you.”

Professional handshake enveloped you whole. Tone to match, “The pleasure is mine.”

// masterlist //

#erwin x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x you #erwin #erwin smith #anlian writes #my writing #alias's #2022 #oneshot

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kerie-prince · 3 years

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lights, camera, action (m)

Draco Malfoy x Reader

requested: (anon) Draco wants to make a sextape request

warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, filmed sex, oral (fem receiving), edging, praise kink, dirty talk, biting (? idk if it counts tbh)

summary: Draco persuades you into filming you both during sex

a/n: damn, did i really write this? i put so many descriptions for everything, it's like i'm an actual erotica novelist. they take a whole page to describe ONE vein. whew chile, anyways. here's this lmao

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

Draco laid on your bed, the orange sunlight illuminating your room as he played with your new camera. He never expected you to take interest in the muggle photography school, but he fully supported you going into it.

This new camera given to you was an anniversary gift from Draco. When he gave you the camera that you initially started saving money for, you jumped in excitement. It had wide, changeable scopes and had a professional microphone attached to it. It became your favorite toy as you took it to classes everyday and with every trip you went on with your blond boyfriend.

Right now, you were sitting on your desk looking over all the photos you took on the streets for an upcoming assignment through your laptop. They were pictures in sepia of people walking and doing everyday normal things, but in Draco’s eyes, it was pure art.

As he was going through the gallery on the camera, he came across a couple videos. They were from a trip to Italy last spring and mostly consisted of you walking behind him and focusing the lens on him walking. The next video was sweet; it was you holding the camera to film both of you together in the hotel room laughing together.

While the memory was a lovely one and brought a smile to his face, a peculiar thought flashed across his mind. He placed the camera on your night stand before getting off the bed and stood behind you seated in your chair. His slender hands came up to rub your shoulders and smiled – no, smirked – when you sighed in content.

“Darling, are you almost done?” You didn't hear the way his voice became octaves lower.

“Almost. Just a couple more edits and I'll be all done,” you told him. You stretched your neck out to the side to crack the stiffness in your bones from sitting in the same position for so long. While the relief felt nice, you didn't expect to feel Draco’s mouth to attach to the exposed flesh.

His lips were smooth, always cared for and never became chapped. As he placed wet kisses on you, your homework was left forgotten. It's not due for another few days anyway.

All you could focus were the wet kisses and little nibbles on your neck. You tilted your neck a bit further for Draco to access the dip of your neck and shoulder, biting harshly to leave a mark. When he pulled away, you turned your rolling chair around and stood up to kiss your boyfriend.

The kiss was hot, sensual and breath-taking. His hands were tangled in your hair as you held his waist, hands grasping at his shirt. His tongue easily slipped in your mouth when you gasped from one of his hands tugging at the hair on the base of your neck.

No matter how many times you've kissed your boyfriend, he never failed to send an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It felt like the first time every time.

His legs guided you to your bed and he let you fall onto it. You were about to pull your sweatshirt off before he stopped you. You watched as he picked up your camera and opened the display screen. “Love, mind if I make a suggestion?” You nodded at his question, getting excited.

The red recording light lit up and Draco looked at you through the screen, “Just want something to remember this by for later.” There was an electric feeling making its course through your veins. If you were honest with yourself, you’ve wanted to do this for a long time but didn't know how to bring it up.

You sat up and lifted your sweatshirt over your head, gently tossing it to the side. Your subconscious cursed at you for not wearing a cuter bra, but it’s not like it mattered anyway since it was eventually going to come off. Draco licked his bottom lip as he watched you through the camera. He could feel himself getting hard in his jeans. His eyes looked around where to place the camera down and landed on the dresser across from your bed. He angled it to have a perfect view of the two of you without it being too far or too close. Once set, he grabbed his shirt from the back and threw it over in a rush and unbuttoned his jeans. He crawled on top of you and immediately started peppering kisses in the valley of your neck causing you to giggle.

Draco’s hand roamed to your back and fumbled with the bra clasps. You could feel that he was struggling with it so you lifted yourself up a little bit to make it easier. Once it was torn off, he looked into your eyes as he lowered himself into your breasts and gave them soft, teasing kisses before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You used one of your free hands to massage the one that was free as Draco used one of his to sneak inside your leggings.

His fingers were playing with your clit over your panties, rubbing it in slow circles. A soft moan fell out of your mouth when Draco bit on your nipple. He could feel you dampening beneath his touch, “Let’s take these off.” Draco lifted himself up to hook your leggings and panties together and take them off in one go. Almost forgetting about the camera, he looked in both adoration and primal lust at the image of your sprawled out with your legs open for him. He palmed himself before getting down on his knees and pulled you closer to the edge of your bed. His fingers played with your slit to feel how soaked you had become, “You look so pretty like this, princess.”

You said a soft ‘thank you’ and blushed. “‘M gonna make you feel good,” were his last words before he leaned in and licked a long stripe on your lips. Your hands rested gingerly on the top of his head and your hips moved on their own against him.

Every now and then, he would open his eyes and stare at you, loving the way your lips quivered and eyebrows knotted in pleasure. He moaned into your pussy, the vibration adding to your arousal. Unexpectedly, Draco softly bit the skin above your cunt, causing you to arch your back up. He used this moment to smoothly enter two of his ring-clad fingers into your heat. The fingers worked to stretch you out for what was to come soon.

Your breathy moans flowed around the room as Draco's slender fingers scissors your sleek walls, “How does that feel, baby?” You tried to come up with a response, but all you could muster were needy whimpers. You were becoming addicted to the feeling of his rings brushing against a sensitive spot inside, the warm silver adding more pressure.

Draco stretched his thumb across to draw the number eight on your swelling clit. He leaned closer to spit on your pussy and used the fingers of his free hand to spread the lubricant around.

Your legs were shifting around and the telltale sign of your hips stuttering told Draco that you were close to your orgasm. He pumped his fingers faster, building the knotting feeling in your abdomen until you felt nothing at all.

Draco chuckled deeply as you glared up at him. “That’s not funny, Draco,” you scolded. He lowered his jeans to the floor and kicked them off, returning to his spot on top of you. Draco grabbed one of your hands and used it to palm himself. He was semi-hard, and you took it upon yourself to guide your hand and start jerking him off over the cotton fabric. You looked up at your boyfriend feigning innocence, knowing that it drove him crazy to watch you with doe eyes as you pretended you weren’t doing the dirtiest acts.

After a few minutes of teasing, he became frustrated and nearly ripped his boxers off. He manhandled your hand onto his bare dick again, jerking himself off at this point. You would give him little squeezes and use your unoccupied hand to massage his balls. Like he did with you earlier, you bent down to spit on the tip of his cock which had become fully hard now.

“Draco,” you moaned, “I want you in me.” He groaned at your request, pushing you down on your back and positioned himself to lie comfortably, grabbing your legs and guiding them over his hips.

Your boyfriend rubbed his tip up and down your lips, spitting once again and spread it around his dick before he slowly entered your pussy. He didn't need it, though. You were already so wet from him devouring you and from watching him work on his own dick with your hand.

Your pussy welcomed his cock, embracing how it perfectly stretched you from the inside. His hips started rocking back and forth and you moved your hips to match his set rhythm.

Draco leaned down and marked more hickeys all over your neck. His ears picked up on your groans, whimpers and moans. Sounds that were hotter than that of a porn star. You held a bunch of the soft blond hair and tugged on them to get a sound from him.

“Oh my Merlin, you feel so – o-oh! – you feel so good inside me, Dray,” you encouraged him. Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled his body closer for him to thrust deeper into you. His thrusts became rougher and faster.

“Is that right, baby? Is my cock making you feel good?”

“Yes! Oh, Merlin, yes,” tears were threatening to spill. The familiar tightness was building up inside you. You tightened yourself around Draco, gaining a delicious groan from him. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m–” once again, this bastard edged you on. Draco had quickly pulled himself off and not only denied you of an orgasm, but laughed at the tears of frustration and possibly also anger on your face.

You slapped his biceps and tried guiding him back inside you. He quit the torture tactics and pushed himself back into your cunt with a harsh snap of the hips, jolting your body up. You let out a scream as he started his fast pace, pistoning in and out with only the tip ever staying in. The only words that left your mouth was ‘Fuck’ and ‘Draco’.

Draco held his head up to watch you unravel on him, proud of himself to see you in such a state because of him. As if his ego wasn't big enough.

The blond changed his slouched position into one of him sitting up on his knees and grabbed your legs and draped them over his shoulders. The stretch stung a little, making you drown in madness from all the sensations of some pain, but all pleasure.

If at all possible, you felt him even deeper in this position he had you in. Your own hands worked by themselves, one holding a leg closer to you, and the other slithering down to flick harshly on your clit.

The sight was pure erotica. Draco was breathing heavily, sweat thick on his skin and so close to his climax but he found the strength in him to keep going and get you to yours first at least.

“Dray, I’m gonna… I'm–”

“Go ahead, darling. Cum on my cock,” Draco told you between breaths. As if on command, your orgasm hit you hard with a scream of his name, a result from the denied ones earlier. Your legs twitched and your hips were moving sporadically with Draco’s.

As you were coming down from your high, Draco kept thrusting until he rushed out and spilled himself all over your chest. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to catch some of his spurts of cum. The warm, slightly salty taste running down your throat.

Nearly exhausted, Draco fell on top of you. You both kept trying to gather your breaths back to normal. Once you did, your boyfriend raised himself off to grab some tissues to wipe his seeds off of both your chests. He then threw his boxers off and walked over to the camera on the dresser.

You had actually forgotten all about it, too caught up in the moment.

Draco joined you back on the bed and went through the gallery of the camera, trying to find the video he just filmed. And when he found it, he smirked at the time-stamp.

18:39

—

requests open!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #requested #requests open #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco imagine #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n

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thornedrose44 · 3 years

Text

Prompt: “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.”

Read on AO3

"Goodnight, Kara." Lena said from across the room when she finally managed to catch Kara's eye.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kara had welcomed her inside at the start of the night. Kara startled at the sudden sight of Lena, waving farewell as she stepped quietly towards the door, but made no move to follow after her and when the door swung quietly shut behind her Lena knew things would never be the same.

It was Kara's birthday party (her Earth birthday party to those that happened to be in the know, which to Lena's un-surprise was a rather considerable group all things considered). Kara had invited her, further proof of the strength of their newly reaffirmed friendship. Lena had been grateful for the invite, appreciating it as the sign that they were back on the right track, and accepted it without hesitation.

She had then proceeded to spend hours upon hours thinking of the perfect gift for Kara, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach.

It would be her first proper night out in months after being thrown back into her role as CEO and dealing with all the negative press following Lex’s downfall and upcoming conviction. Her working hours had reached an excess that she had never achieved before. The blowback onto her in the form of hatred for the Luthors was even greater than last time as well, despite her crucial role in taking Lex down. She was still deemed guilty by association especially since she had been working closely with Lex for a long time before revelations about his villainy became apparent.

The news were critiquing her every move, slandering her every chance they got and rallying the masses to a fervour - she was now facing at least one assassination attempt every week.

Regardless of all that, Lena had one salvation, one light of hope that she clung onto. Her friendship with Kara. It was growing again. They were spending time together. Relearning one another or learning about each for the first time in Lena's case. The conversation was finally less stilted and the trust was back.

But there was still something missing, something stopping them from returning to exactly where they were before.

Lena, as the months ticked by, realised that they were no longer as physically close as they once were. Hugs were rare. Gentle touches of the hands were swiftly snatched back to prevent lingering. Even extended eye contact was fleeting.

Lena at first thought the problem was that she had hurt Kara so badly that the woman who sometimes communicated solely through physical affection no longer wanted to be touched by Lena. That broke something in Lena. That Kara, even though she was trying to be kind, friendly and forgiving to Lena, was not comfortable with any sort of physical contact between them, drove Lena into a drunken stupor of college-level proportions.

Once the alcohol was out of her system and she had suitably recovered from her hangover, Lena had allowed the scientist within her to take over.

No more assumptions.

She would gather evidence, make an hypothesis and work towards a solution.

If she wanted Kara back in her life properly - cuddles on the sofa and lengthy hugs a necessity of that - Lena would put the effort in.

So she observed… and what she observed was this…

Pink cheeks and bashful expressions whenever their gazes met.

A thick swallow and faltering breath whenever their hands brushed.

Deep sighs and fingers digging fleetingly into her back as if on the edge of pulling her closer whenever they embraced.

Dark eyes and teeth biting into a bottom lip whenever Lena stretched or moved her hair away from her neck.

Attraction, affection and interest .

Lena didn’t believe the results of her evidence; she re-ran the tests over and over again trying to work out if she had just interacted with Kara on an odd day, if she just happened to be thinking about something (someone) else at the same time but… it kept happening over and over again.

If it had been anyone else, Lena wouldn’t have doubted what she was seeing but… but.. This was Kara.

Kara, who she had been in love with since she had walked into her office with her cousin.

Kara, who had never picked up on or reacted to her flirts.

Kara, who had broken her heart with lies.

Kara, who meant so much to her.

Kara, who she had only just gotten back.

Was it worth the risk?

Fear had blinded her, of that she had no doubt, but was it keeping her safe from the hurtful truth of Kara not wanting to touch her anymore or from the potential happiness that Kara returned her feelings but was too sweet or shy to put herself in a position that would make Lena uncomfortable.

Lena decided to take a chance - just this once because even if she was wrong about Kara not feeling the same, she had to believe that Kara was incapable of being cruel to her if she misread it. They promised each other honesty and Lena intended to show it.

It was why she needed to buy the perfect present, something that hinted that Kara’s feelings (if Lena was right) were returned. And just a week before the party, she knew exactly what the perfect present would be.

She wrapped it personally (normally Jess would wrap any gifts she had to send out), wanting to go the extra mile. It wasn’t perfectly done, a bit messy in places and the sellotape was excessive but she had done it herself which she knew Kara would appreciate more than professional gift wrapping.

Lena, however, realised that she had made a mistake the second she arrived at Kara's.

Knew she had misread… everything …

Because Kara… Kara couldn't stand to be near her for longer than it took to say hello, accept the present and then disappear off.

Lena hadn’t expected to be with Kara for all of the party; it was Kara's party and loads of her friends were in attendance, all of whom wanted to spend it with Kara. Who wouldn't?

It's just… Lena…

Lena didn't have anyone else.

It was made abundantly clear to Lena within the first thirty seconds that she was not welcome. Alex gave her a gruff nod from across the room before turning her back to her - she still didn't trust her and Lena had prioritised winning Kara back over the last few months above everything else. Brainy and Nia smiled at her but they were deep in conversation with CatCo employees all of whom were practically snarling at Lena (clearly not Luthor fans). James was here as well and dear God did he give her such a blazing look of hatred Lena was surprised she didn't burst into flames under its ferocity. (They hadn’t dated in this rewritten universe, much to Lena’s pleasure, though his original dislike for her was clearly a mainstay of every universe).

So… Lena grabbed a drink and stood in the corner as Kara moved seamlessly between her various groups of friends and colleagues, never once sparing Lena even a glance. The majority of her movements were accompanied by William Dey, who repeatedly tried to sling an arm around Kara's shoulder - the only joy Lena got from the evening was watching Kara repeatedly squirm out from under his touch.

She held out for two hours, sipping three beers and glancing intermittently at her phone as she stayed in her corner, hoping that Kara would come over for just five minutes.

Five minutes with Kara wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Five mere minutes with Kara would have made the whole night worth it, made the glares and malevolent whispers sent her way worth it.

It was at the two hour mark that Lena accepted the truth.

Kara wasn't going to come over to talk to her.

Kara hadn't been pulling away from her due to a sudden realisation of feelings and attraction.

Kara hadn't expected her to accept the invite. Hadn't wanted her to accept.

Kara was ashamed of her, that was why she pulled away, why she didn't acknowledge her.

Lena couldn't really blame her but that didn't mean she had to stay and take it. So gathering what was left of her dignity, she shuffled towards the door, caught Kara's eye, waved and slipped outside… though, not before retrieving the present she had brought for Kara… it would have revealed far too much and Lena didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lena returned to her office for no other reason that she still had some good liquor stored there - Kara had encouraged her a couple of months ago to cut back on her drinking and she couldn’t deny the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She staggered into her office, chucking the present she had spent hours creating onto the sofa - she would buy Kara some random meaningless gift like a nice scarf or jumper tomorrow instead - and poured herself a full tumbler before flipping open her laptop and getting to work. She lost herself in designs and business plans as she made her way through the bottle.

She used to sit and brood when she drank but Sam had made her promise she wouldn’t do that anymore, hazel eyes filled with concern at where Lena’s mind wandered when unoccupied and fuelled by alcohol. Whilst Lena was in a pretty bleak space, she refused to hurt her last (and only) friend by breaking the one promise she had made to her.

It must have been two am when Lena heard a familiar thud from the balcony followed by a gentle knock that could only belong to one person.

“Kara, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lena called out, not bothering to lift her gaze away from her laptop screen - she wasn't sure whether the sight of Kara would evoke tears or fury and she wished to give Kara neither.

“Hey… I just wanted… I was…" Kara stammered out; Lena didn't need to see her to know that she was fidgeting with the edge of her cape as she tiptoed nervously closer. "You know… flying around and saw the light on and figured I would check in on you, see how you were doing…”

“I’m fine. Just working.” Lena replied brusquely taking a sip of her whiskey.

“And drinking…” Kara muttered, her tone more worried than disapproving but Lena took offense regardless.

“Yes. It’s a Saturday night, cut me some slack.” Lena snapped back, defiantly swallowing what was left in her glass before slamming it down onto her desk.

The loud clack as it connected with the surface was followed by a heavy, almost suffocating silence.

“You left early.” Kara whispered into the unnatural stillness, shattering the fraudulent focus Lena had on her computer screen with those three words. Kara didn't sound confused or upset, just painfully neutral as if to emotionally step back from the situation so that she could garner some emotional truth from the CEO instead.

Well, Lena was done with that, done with giving more of herself than Kara wanted so she took a deep, calming breath and allowed her painstakingly crafted mask to slip into place.

“I wasn’t the first to leave.” Lena pointed out calmly, finally turning to look at Kara, certain she could keep her voice and face blank. It was then that she saw how… small Kara looked, which was never a word Lena would have used to describe Kara in full Supergirl regalia in the entire time she had known her. Kara looked defeated and lost, a tremble to her lip and very being that she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

“Well… I didn’t get a chance to talk to you…” Kara replied, ducking her head meekly as she admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, “I was there for over two hours, Kara. You could have come over whenever you wanted. It wasn’t like I was occupied.”

“Yeah… what was that about?” Kara laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying far too hard to make her tone light as if even the idea of Lena being without company was an entirely absurd concept.

The high-pitch to Kara's laugh and the unfamiliar tension around her eyes revealed to Lena that Kara knew exactly why Lena had been standing all alone that evening.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara." Lena replied sharply, not interested in trying to smooth over the harsh truths like Kara was always so keen to do when it suited her. "No one wanted me there and they all made that very clear.”

“I wanted you there.” Kara replied so soft and earnest that Lena nearly believed her.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena scoffed derisively.

“I did.” Kara insisted, eyes desperate and pleading.

Lena merely shook her head, turning back to face her computer, “If you say so…”

“Lena, I-”

“Kara… I can’t…” Lena muttered, her voice cracking in the exact way she didn’t want it to. “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.” Lena requested, hating how it verged on begging.

“What?” Kara murmured in shock.

“I can’t just… pretend that I’m not hurt or upset.” Lena confessed, fingers curling into fists on her desk, eyes slamming shut to lock in the tears. “I just need… time to get over it and accept what we are. So until then… please just leave me alone.”

“I hurt you.” Kara repeated, her voice broken and raw .

“Kara, I didn’t…” Lena shook her head angrily, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to inflict herself on Kara who had tried so hard to be her friend. “It's your birthday, Kara.” Lena sighed sadly, “You get to spend it anyway you like with whomever you like.”

“I wanted to spend it with you.” Kara breathed, and Lena could hear the sharp inhales between each word that revealed that Kara was crying.

“Kara, you don’t need to…” Lena assured, with a wave of her hand, eyes focused on her lap, “let’s just leave it, okay?”

“No…” Kara gasped, and suddenly Lena felt a trembling hand connect with her own tightly curled fists, “wait… what did you mean ‘get over it’ and ‘accept what we are’?”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath at the question, biting down harshly on her bottom lip.

“Lena?” Kara pressed.

“Fuck it, fine.” Lena snapped, yanking her hands away from Kara’s infinitely soft touch and shoving herself out of her chair before storming away from Kara, desperate for space. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do-” Kara began, taking a tentative step after her.

“No, Kara.” Lena yelled, spinning back to face Kara, with a twisted snarl of total self-loathing. “Liked me.” Lena stressed, before throwing her hands up into the air as it all just boiled out of her, “God, I sound like a teenager. I thought you liked me. I thought you were touching me less because you were attracted to me. But then… I go to your party and you don’t… it was like you were ashamed of me, I sat in that fucking corner for two hours as everyone wished - out loud, I should say - that I would go. I sat in that fucking corner in the hope that you would speak to me for five minutes. For just five minutes. Because that… that would have made it all worth it. But you could barely look at me. And I realised you didn’t - don’t - like me… you’re ashamed of me, but you’re too kind to abandon me. Too noble and generous but even you have your limits. Of course, you didn’t want to spend your birthday talking to me. Of course you didn’t.”

Lena wanted to punch a wall, wanted to down the rest of her whiskey, wanted to do literally anything than be here in this moment watching the horror-struck expression on Kara’s face grow and grow with every word, watch Kara’s body tremble and shake with each harsh sweeping gesture.

“Lena, no… you…” Kara sobbed, striding towards her with fingers twitching at her sides, “you have got the complete wrong end of the stick. Actually, you’re right but also really wrong. And…” Kara swiped aggressively at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she approached Lena, stopping when the raven-haired woman flinched at their sudden closeness. “I screwed up but-”

“No. You don’t need to do this.” Lena cut in, holding a hand up to stop Kara, wanting Kara to know that her guilt was unnecessary and that she could finally be free of Lena.

“Lena, I’m so-”

��You don’t need to apologise.” Lena insisted, taking a deep breath to rein back in her swirl of her emotions. She could do this. She could let Kara go. “You were trying to be kind but you shouldn’t… god, if I make you that miserable, that uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to interact with me.”

“LENA!” Kara bellowed, stamping her foot to the ground and lifting her chin to reveal a determined expression.

Lena blinked in shock at the sudden volume and intensity; falling obediently quiet.

Kara placed her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, looked Lena straight in the eye with earnest, beseeching blue and declared, “I want to kiss you right now because that would be the big sweeping action that would prove to you that I mean what I’m about to say next but… you’ve been drinking… heavily from the looks of things.” Kara shot a displeased pout at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as if it was all the bottle’s fault for Lena’s current state of inebriation and not the youngest Luthor’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kara turned back to face a stunned Lena, with a fond smile, “And I really want our first kiss to be one you remember and one you can fully consent to. So, you’re just going to have to believe me… please, please believe me when I say… I’m in love with you and I fucked up massively tonight. Really, really fucked up.”

“You never swear.” Lena murmured quietly, and it probably wasn’t what she should have been focusing on but her brain was currently stuck like a record scratch unable to fully comprehend what Kara had just told her; and the swear was just the cherry on top of an entire sundae of confusing and out-of-the-blue revelations.

“Which shows how much I believe that I fucked up.” Kara replied with a helpless shrug.

“But-”

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with.” Kara confessed, “Well, Alex at some point as well. But you mostly. Alex planned the party and I couldn’t…” Kara huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes, “she did this whole thing and I didn’t want to turn around and say I didn’t want it. That all I really wanted was a quiet night watching films with you because…” Kara sighed, “because then she’d know… To make it more bearable I invited you but there were so many other people, and I will be honest… I don’t even like half of them. Alex, just invited everyone I was friends on facebook with which is not a good barometer of friendship.”

Lena cleared her throat, none of it making sense, “Then why-”

“Did I ignore you?” Kara guessed with a painful wince.

“Yeah…” Lena muttered, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

“Because… because I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you hadn’t noticed how I felt about you.” Kara explained inching just that little bit closer towards Lena, attempting to bring them within touching distance of one another. “And I knew it was only a miracle that you hadn’t until now because…” Kara smiled a lopsided, rueful and self-deprecating smile, “Lena, I am not subtle. Not at all. And I knew… I knew if I interacted with you at the party… everyone else would be able to tell in an instant how I felt.”

Lena exhaled slow and deep, arms tightening their hold around herself, “And you didn’t want them knowing you liked me?”

“Love. Not like.” Kara corrected, patient yet firm, “Love. And no, I didn’t.”

Lena nodded once in understanding, letting out a hollow laugh, “I get it. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I loved me either.”

“Lena… no… no… you…” Kara rushed to explain, finally stepping close enough to reach out and place her hands gently on Lena’s curled biceps. Lena couldn’t help how she instinctively shifted closer, wanting to increase contact with Kara after being denied it for so long. “I didn’t want anyone knowing before you.” Kara admitted.

And that… that snapped something back into place for Lena.

Made the doubts screaming inside her head quieten down just enough to think… maybe…

Because… it was being last that had broken them the first time. Being the only one not to know and now…

“I didn’t want Stacy, who used to cheat off me in exams in college to know how I felt about you before you did.” Kara said, thumbs moving back and forth against the bare skin of Lena’s arms causing a swathe of goosebumps to rise like a wave in the wake of Kara’s every touch. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve…” Kara’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening as she studied Lena’s face, “I was trying to protect you from them. They said horrible things about you and you should know, the minute after you left, I kicked everyone who so much as looked at you funny out. It was just me, Nia, Brainy and Kelly left… Alex, as well, but we had a rather heated argument before she was allowed to stay.” Kara bowed her head in shame, “I should have kicked them all out immediately but-”

“Then they would have known.” Lena finished for her.

“I had this whole thing planned.” Kara breathed out, her hands gradually shifting away from Lena’s arms around to her back, surrounding Lena in a loose hold, Kara’s eyes flickering over Lena’s face and body rapidly searching for even the slightest sign that Lena was uncomfortable with their contact. “Once everyone left, I had set-up the roof with lights and cushions and… I was going to tell you how I felt. I just had to make it through the birthday party from hell and I was trying so hard to keep to the plan. To not spoil it. To keep it a secret so that it could just be ours but... I…” Kara’s eyes slid shut and she inhaled a shuddering breath filled with pain. “I hurt you. And there is nothing I can say to make you forgive me, but I do… I do love you so much. And I will never, ever be ashamed of you.” Kara blinked her eyes back open and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “I just wanted it to be ours and not theirs. I didn’t want to share. You’re the only thing in my life that… I didn’t want to share.”

“Open your present.” Lena demanded, stepping out of Kara’s loving embrace.

“Lena-” Kara whimpered, pained at the sudden loss of closeness.

“Open your present, Kara.” Lena repeated, jerking her chin towards the sofa where the roughly wrapped present lay.

“I… okay…” Kara replied, watching Lena closely as she tried to make sense of Lena’s clear request. Kara walked cautiously over to the couch, picking up the gift with gentle hands. “Did you wrap it yourself?” Kara asked, her entire expression brightening as she stared down at the crooked, over sellotaped wrapping.

Lena harrumphed at the question, pursing her lips.

“You did, didn’t you?” Kara teased.

“The present isn’t the piss poor wrapping.” Lena replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes that had the corners of Kara’s lips quirking even further upwards.

“Lena Luthor wrapped my present herself…", Kara whistled in awe, blue eyes twinkling with true delight for the first time that day, "what better gift is there?”

“Open it and you might find one.” Lena said, heart leaping into her throat as Kara’s deft fingers found a line of wrapping paper she could tuck them under.

The sound of paper ripping was deafening in the stillness; all Lena could do was watch and wait.

The paper fell away leaving behind a small black box, Kara shot Lena a hesitant look and it wasn’t until Lena nodded for her to continue that Kara clicked it open.

There was a pause.

A heavy, endless pause in which Lena couldn’t bring herself to even breathe.

“What is-” Kara began before cutting off immediately as she lifted up the beautiful bracelet made of nth metal and inscribed with ‘stronger together’ in Lena’s own cursive handwriting in both english and kryptonian.

The bracelet shined under the lights in Lena’s office, but in Lena’s opinion, Kara’s eyes shined impossibly brighter.

“You’re in love with me.” Kara whispered, seeing the present for everything Lena had hoped it would convey.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed because there was no hiding it now.

With trembling fingers Kara clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, long fingers tracing the words delicately inscribed with no small amount of wonder. Finally, she turned around and stared at Lena with so much sheer love that the youngest Luthor felt overwhelmed and like her heart might burst right out of her chest in its desire to be in Kara’s possession

Clearing her throat and clasping her hands behind her back, Lena gathered her courage and asked, “If I promise you I’ll remember it and that I am fully consenting… will you kiss me now?”

Kara was in front of her in the literal blink of the eye, hands reaching out to cup Lena’s cheeks as Lena’s hands moved to rest on Kara’s hips gently encouraging their bodies closer with a light tug.

“There is nothing I want more.” Kara assured with the widest grin that Lena had ever seen and couldn’t help but return.

Their first kiss could barely count as a kiss.

Their smiles were too wide to allow for it, but Lena wouldn’t change it even slightly. They pressed their smiles against one another, teeth knocking together and noses brushing.

It may not have been a successful kiss but it was tender and filled with so much joy that Lena wouldn’t describe it as anything less than perfect.

Their second kiss was an actual kiss, lips slotting together, tongues seeking each other out and teeth tugging whimpers and moans from one another in an endless cycle.

Their second kiss turned into a third, a fourth, a fifth.

They kissed until the sun rose.

Kissed until their lips ached and any remaining doubts Lena may have had were pushed back into the shadows by the light of Kara’s smile and blue eyes.

#supercorp #supercorp fic

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

wrapped in red | p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark? peter parker x reader, dark bucky barnes x reader, peter is still pretty sweet and bucky is evil, aged up peter, mafia/gang au, gang boss!bucky, waitress!reader, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage, kidnapping, bucky likes to watch

A/N: idk its 7 am and I still haven’t slept and now I’m posting this. THIS IS ADULT & TRIGGERING CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Peter likes you and Bucky makes you both regret that.

main masterlist

word count: 2.9k

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” You asked the blue-eyed man sitting at table eighteen. Your coworker had an emergency call so you found yourself tasked with tending to the table of two men. You didn’t recognize the man at first but as your eyes connected with his left arm … your breathing hitched in your throat. You smiled through your worry though, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that you knew exactly who he was.

Bucky Barnes ran this neighborhood, but since you had never run into him, it was easy to believe he was just a myth.

“No, doll. Just the check please,” He spoke simply and you might not have been intimidated if you hadn’t noted the many expensive rings on his right hand. The man sitting across from him was younger, his eyes were nervous too as he looked you over. His face was familiar and you thought you might have seen him in one of your classes.

There were several empty beers on the table as well

You nodded your head before turning away, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away from the table. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be counting. His pen roamed over the sheet and over all the numbers.

“See, you’re only making a hundred grand from this guy's shipments. He’s using all your resources to make sure the product is clean but you could easily just do that for yourself. You cut out in the middle man and I think you could triple your profit,” Peter turned the paper so Bucky could look over all the numbers he was running. Peter folded his hands, trying to read the man’s expressions.

As you returned to the table with the check, Peter was once again caught in the trance you put in. He recognized you from his anatomy class. He arrived at class five minutes early every day just to make sure that he could watch you come in. Part of him was unsure of what you’d think of him now, knowing who he was sitting with.

Money didn’t grow on trees and Peter was the man of the house. College was expensive and the rent was even more expensive so he had to do what he could to get by. You were working minimum wage at a rundown restaurant, Peter didn’t doubt that you could understand that. Still, what you did was honest work and Peter couldn’t say the same for himself.

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky thanked you, resting his arms against the table as he smirked up at you, “You doing something tonight? What time do you get off?”

Your lips parted as you stared in shock. Could you just answer a simple no? “I actually have to close up today … so I … uhm-”

“I-It’s okay,” Peter rushed out nervously, seeing the way that Bucky was eyeing you, “That’s it, thank you.”

Your smile was thin and awkward before you walked away.

Peter’s eyes widened with frustration as he stared across the table at the older man, “What are you doing?” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the check, clicking his pin in order to sign it. Peter didn’t know it but the man was leaving you a hefty tip, “Were you trying to scare her?”

“I was trying to get you a date!” Bucky retorted, “Your good with numbers, kid, and I appreciate you helping me out. I really do but your game with women is a little laughable.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Why does it matter?” Peter lowered his voice as the realization set in that Bucky was right, “Why does it matter what kind of game I have? I’m just here to count your money, right?”

The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost sympathetic, “You count money for now but you’re strong, I can tell. You could become a very valuable person to me if you work at it. And part of being in my little family is having some fucking confidence. You were drooling over that girl instead of manning up and asking her out.”

Peter crossed his arms, “What if she said no?”

Bucky smirked at the younger boy, “She wouldn’t if you had some fucking balls,” Peter rolled his eyes, “But if she did said no … then you chase her. That’s the best part.”

There was something evil in the man's glare but Peter brushed it out. The man was a professional, drug dealing murderer. “You want to ask her to prom or something?”

Peter shook his head, annoyed, “I’m not in high school, Mr. Barnes. I just like her, okay? And it doesn’t matter that I like her because it’s not like we can date. I’m sure we both have bigger things to focus on. Now ... can we go back to talking about the deal that’s going on tomorrow?”

Bucky seemed amused by the kid’s awkwardness, “I like your idea. I hate that Brock guy anyways. He’s overcharging me because I used to mess with his sister. You know … maybe if he’s out of the picture then his sister is free territory.”

“Out of the picture how?” Bucky sensed Peter’s worry and grinned.

“That’s right, you’ve never been on one of my infamous boat rides. You should come,” Peter knew exactly what he meant. If Bucky didn’t like you, you did not want to go on a “boat ride” with him. That was a quick and easy way for your body to end up chained to a brick at the bottom of the Hudson.

“I have a biology project to work on,” Peter said.

“It wasn’t a question, Queens.”

Your heart skipped a beat as a black Escalade pulled up beside you while you were walking home. You didn’t look over as you heard the window roll down. You winced as you continued to walk. You only turned to look as you heard a whistle.

You thought he’d give up after the weird encounter at the restaurant but here he was in all his handsome and dangerous glory, “You need a ride, doll?”

“Uhm, no. But thank you!”

What was it with kids your age? Perhaps Bucky was losing some of his edginess with the younger crowd, “Get in,” Bucky said, much more forward this time, “I just want to talk.”

You took a deep breath as you clutched your purse tightly. You found your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Your body thought you’d be safer going with him rather than arguing with the famous criminal. You heard the rumors about people that went missing because they pissed him off. Every time they seemed to arrest him, he was back on the streets weeks later. The cops, ones who he didn’t pay off, could never pin him to any of the murders.

If you went missing because of Bucky Barnes, you and your legacy were effectively wiped away.

He opened the back door for you and you climbed into the leather seat as he slid over. Shaking, you grabbed your seat belt and buckled yourself in. Bucky was used to the lack of eye contact and shaky fingers. It usually annoyed him but, for you, he found it endearing.

As the door closed, the man in the front seat drove off, “What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” You asked, still confused about the entire situation.

“My friend that sat at the table with me. Peter Parker,” Bucky spoke vaguely.

“We don’t really know each other,” You explained, hoping that guy wasn’t somehow in trouble with Bucky, “We just go to the same college.”

“No, I know,” Bucky continued, “I just know that he’s interested in getting to know you better. And Peter’s a good friend of mine, you know?”

You nodded slowly. That meant Peter was dangerous, “Right. He’s … he’s never talked to me.”

Bucky chuckled, “He’s the shy type. You’re a pretty girl, he probably doesn’t think he’s good enough. That’s why I’m here talking to you.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked hesitantly.

“That’s a good response,” Bucky gave you a smug look, “You’ll find out soon, doll. Sit tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked out the tinted window, watching your apartment building pass by. Bucky’s driver gazed at you through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road.

Peter thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach. Watching a grown man cry and beg for his life before being tossed over the edge. You watched him sink and the bubbles slowly start to disappear as he went deeper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bucky had said to him.

Peter hated to say that it wasn’t as bad as he believed it would be. Perhaps the years of struggling had blackened his heart. After the murder, Bucky proceeded to drag you back to his million-dollar apartment, wanting to share a drink or to.

Peter almost opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t twenty-one yet but knew the exact reaction he would get from Bucky. Bucky had his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he showed him to the kitchen, “One day, you’re going to have a place just like this,” He said, hinting at your luxurious surroundings, “You stick with me and you won’t need that piece of shit degree.”

Peter only nodded, accepting a beer from the man. Bucky watched as the boy chugged the content of his glass. Peter hoped it would get him through the rest of the night and help give him some liquid courage, “You’re a weird kid, Queens,” Bucky laughed, “I like it. C’mere, I want to show you something.”

You followed Bucky down the hallway, hoping it wasn’t another disturbing thing that the man found amusing, “What is it?”

“A present,” Bucky grinned, guiding Peter to the door at the end of the hallway. Peter would’ve preferred to be wowed by a million other things. Instead, his mouth was agape because he saw you.

Whatever drugs he had given you to keep you relaxed had completely worn off. It kept you from fighting them when your clothes were cut off from your body. Your vision was blurry and your muscles were weak as they restrained your body. Now, clear as day you could see your captor … and his friend Peter.

You were laid out on the bed, your hands handcuffed behind your back and your ankles tied together by a red ribbon. A red thong barely covered your lower region and a red ribbon wrapped around your front barely covered your nipples. Right in the middle of your chest was a red bow to compliment the red ball gag in your mouth.

Peter flashed Bucky a mortified look. Bucky only sipped at his glass of beer, “Happy fucking birthday, kid,” Bucky beamed, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

It wasn’t Peter’s birthday and he was definitely not feeling thankful. Peter watched as you struggled in your bondage, frightened tears staining your cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked, his teeth gritted in anger, “I-I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“What?” Bucky sounded offended, “It’s creative! Think of it as a welcoming gift. I know you want to fuck her so here’s your chance. Fuck her and get rid of her-”

Get rid of you?

Bucky was interrupted by a muffled scream which only caused him to roll his eyes, “Or fuck her and keep her, I don’t care.”

“No, no, I’m letting her go-” Before Peter could take a step forward, Bucky’s metal arm gripped his shoulder.

You felt relieved only for a moment. Bucky stepped in front of him, “I’ll fuck her then, no point in letting the opportunity go to waste.”

Peter’s heart stopped, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

“You do it or I will,” Bucky said firmly, “You’re smart and I want to keep you around but if you can’t … take a few fun risks then maybe you’re not the type of person that should work for me.” Bucky’s words settled over him. Peter thought about losing this opportunity and all the money that would come along with it. Looking into your teary eyes, Peter thought about how rough Bucky would be with you. Maybe he could explain that … Peter mentally cursed.

Peter didn’t answer verbally, only pushed past Bucky, walking towards the bed. Peter felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he stalked towards the bed, “That’s my boy,” Bucky spoke excitedly. He moved towards a lounge chair in the corner of the room, still taking swigs of his drink, “There’s no point in asking. If you want it, take it. Now put on a good show for your dear boss.”

Peter knew there was no going back now. He reached out to touch your arm, only to have you flinch away from his touch. Peter had imagined touching you for the first time and it was nothing like this. Peter turned that sadness to anger in order to fuel his adrenaline.

Peter undid the ribbon around your ankles first. As soon as they were free, you were struggling against him. Peter was much stronger than you assumed and held you in place easily. Next, he moved to your gag, “Pl-Please don’t hurt me,” You begged, your voice hoarse.

You saw something in his eyes similar to regret. Regret for the inevitable. As you shook your head, he said, “I won’t. Just … just don’t struggle,” He tried to assure you but as he moved your body over the edge of the bed, parting your legs and settling between them, you panicked again.

“Peter, please don’t.” He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips and you thought for a moment that you had gotten to him. He paused for a moment, only for a moment, before lifting his shirt above his head. He leaned his body over yours, his mouth brushing over your ear.

“Trust me, you don’t want him touching you. Just relax,” A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head. Your scared eyes connected with Bucky’s and he smirked. It seemed the two of you were his sick entertainment for tonight. Your breathing was heavy but you tried to keep your muscles calm.

You tried to convince yourself that Peter was the better option. He was your age and he didn’t have that evil look in his eyes. You hated that you preferred him. You hated that you were preferring this.

Peter placed soft kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. It baffled you that you got the feeling that he wanted to be gentle with you. You were ready to jump out of your skin when you felt your panties being moved to the side but you were interrupted by Peter’s lips crashing onto yours.

Soon, you felt him at your entrance, teasing your opening. You gasped against his lips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You wanted him away but you still found that your legs wrapped around him for support.

Peter moved his lips against yours and you felt his own body shudder as your warmness wrapped around his length. He started to move in and out of you and it took you time to get used to the invading feeling. As Peter kissed your tear-stained cheeks, you bit down on your bottom lip. His pace quickened and wished desperately that your hands weren’t handcuffed behind you.

“Y/N,” He grunted into your ear as he made long, deep strokes inside of you, “Fuck, I’m sorry… y-you feel so good.”

As he pushed deep inside of you, your head tilted back and a frustrated moan escaped from your throat. You hated that he was making you feel good too. You felt his hand running up your thigh and then it was between your leg, slowly rubbing that sensitive bulb between your legs. That was enough to have you moving your hips against him.

Bucky watched intently, the blood rushing to that area between his legs. He’d keep you in mind when he was deep inside Brock’s sister.

“Ah, ah,” Peter kissed you, swallowing your moans as you both climaxed together.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to finally gather the courage to ask for your number towards the end of the semester. You were supposed to text back and forth for a few weeks and then go on a few dates. You were supposed to fall for each other the natural way.

Bucky had stolen all that.

As Peter pulled up his pants, zipping them up, Bucky stood from his chair, “That was moving. Very romantic,” By his tone, Peter could tell the man was hoping for something for brutal. Peter scowled at his boss, “I knew deep down you were a ladies man-”

Peter interrupted, venom in his tone, “What do you want me to do now?”

Bucky only chuckled, “Nothing like some emotional trauma to toughen someone up,” He patted Peter’s shoulder as he made his way to the door, “Why don’t you buy her dinner and then take her home? You can take my car.”

“That’s fucking it? After all that?”

Bucky turned his head as his hand grabbed a hold of the doorknob, “She knows what’ll happen if she runs to the cops. Welcome to the team, Parker.”

hope you enjoyed!!

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cocobutnochanel · 3 years

Text

The Kims | 18+

Genre: smut, angst, drama, au

Main Characters: Kim Minseok, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongin x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: profanity, sex scenes, aggression, mature themes, slavery(not literally idk)

Summary: When you thought life wasn't a fairytale and you were no Cinderella, truth slaps you in the face when you become an orphan overnight and your step-family sells you off to the richest family in town.

Kink List: verbal degradation, size difference, exhibitionism, blowjob, gagging, mention of tears, spanking, overstimulating, daddy!Junmyeon

Part 3

(Part 1, Part 2)

The following days were boring once again. The Kims were busy, as per usual. Their money wasn’t made by staying at home and laying around. You really had no idea what their family’s business was into but it was safer that way. Baekhyun always said that the less you know, the better.

You sniffed the air and immediately guessed it was cookies. You ran to the kitchen where Kyungsoo was mixing the ingredients while the oven beside him was releasing a very distinct smell.

“That smells so good!” You inhale once more, catching Kyungsoo’s attention. He beckoned you to come nearer. “Help me with this, will you?” He pointed to the bowl.

“Sure.” You smiled at him and skipped to his side. You look at the dough he was mixing. “You should really add more chocolate chips.” You advise to the older guy.

He looked at you with thinking eyes. “Won’t it be too sweet then?” He asked, still holding the whisk in his hand. He contemplated for a moment but followed your advice nonetheless.

You smile when you see him pouring half a cup of chocolate chips onto the mixture. Kyungsoo was good with food but he liked his food not that sweet. He always needed yours or Baekhyun’s opinion.

After mixing, he jokingly puts some of the mixture on a tiny teaspoon. “Try it.” He jokes but you open your mouth and go for the mixture.

You let your tastebuds examine it before your eyes light up at the satisfactory taste. “That’s it! You got it, Kyungsoo-oppa!” You exclaim a little too loud. Kyungsoo grinned at how you gushed over the tiniest things.

“You really are a child.” He pinched your nose and ruffled your hair. “Yah, oppa! Don’t do that!” You glared at him jokingly which made him laugh even more.

You hear someone clear their throat. You quickly turn around and see Junmyeon walking inside the kitchen.

“Young master, we weren’t expecting you. How can we help you?” Kyungsoo immediately greeted him, saving you and your flustered self. You bow your head towards Junmyeon as a late greeting. You silently hope he won’t give you shit because of this.

“I just went to check since I heard some voices.” He nodded at Kyungsoo, making the tension in the air even thicker. Baekhyun appears by the open door behind Junmyeon and his eyes widen at the site of our boss in the kitchen.

Quietly, Junmyeon turned around and walked out of the kitchen. He whispered something to Baekhyun’s ear and proceeded to walk away. You sighed after the nerve-wracking scene finally ended. Junmyeon might look gentle and soft but he is no exception to the danger all the Kims have.

“You okay, Y/N?” Kyungsoo’s worried voice made you look at him. “I’m fine, oppa. Still not used to them, I guess.” Your voice was weak and faint. You shook your head, trying to get the nervousness out of your system.

Baekhyun entered the kitchen with a worried face and you look at him questioningly. His gaze shifted to Kyungsoo and back to you. This time, he even looked more worried.

“Spill it, Baek.” You say to him confidently despite your heart beating against your chest.

“Kyungsoo, Junmyeon said to bring Y/N to the study now.” Baekhyun looked away as if that would erase the worry on his face. You were confused as to why Junmyeon would say that to Baek. He could’ve told us directly or sent me after him but he didn’t. He had to order Baekhyun and now this overthinking man was all over the place.

“It’s okay, Baek. He’s probably just pissed we’re noisy.” You try to reassure him but your voice audibly shook. “We’re fine, Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo walked to Baek’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Kyungsoo beckoned you to follow him out of the kitchen. He took his apron off by the counter and started walking down the hallways of the mansion.

You sigh once again and Kyungsoo turns around for a moment. You mouth an ‘I’m fine’ to him. He walked continuously until we reached the study’s door.

Kyungsoo cautiously knocked and announced your arrival. “Bring her in.” You hear Junmyeon’s muffled voice through the door. Kyungsoo turned the doorknob and pushed the wooden door open carefully. He gave you one last glance until he gestured he would leave.

“No, Kyungsoo stay.” Junmyeon’s voice was eerily calm, it scared the living shit out of you. He was even calmer than he was when they first welcomed you. You have no idea if this was a good or bad sign.

Kyungsoo simply nodded at the boss’s order and stood by the door with an expressionless face.

You see Junmyeon smirk a little as he looked at you while signing papers on his desk. You tried to look at Kyungsoo for help but he avoided your gaze. He didn’t want any trouble with the bosses.

“Strip, Y/N.” You hear Junmyeon say this so normally, his eyes still on the pile of papers in front of him. “E-Excuse me?” You tried to ask while looking at Kyungsoo for help. “I said strip. Are you hearing impaired?” He looked at you incredulously.

You gulped at his request but nonetheless, your hands went to the hem of the dress you were wearing. Kyungsoo tried to get a hold of the doorknob but Junmyeon spoke again.

“I said stay, Kyungsoo. Are you all deaf or dumb?” Junmyeon looked at him angrily. Kyungsoo immediately retreated to where he stood earlier.

He wanted you to strip in front of Kyungsoo? What was the point of all of this?

“Strip, you fucking whore. Stop playing dumb.” This was the first time you heard Junmyeon curse and honestly, it shocked you. You only shook your head and unzipped the back of your dress.

Your dress fell to the floor as you look at Kyungsoo who had his eyes stay glued on the floor. To be in this state with Kyungsoo present made you want to run and cry, you consider him a friend and an older brother after all. Your heartbeat now doubled as you stood in the middle of the room in your underwear alone.

You hesitated to do it but you couldn’t afford Junmyeon to get angrier. Your hands unhooked your bra from behind. You took it off so slowly, it was excruciating to watch. Your fingers hooked the ends of your lace panties and you took it off afterwards too.

Junmyeon looked up from his desk, a satisfied glint in his eyes as soon as he saw you naked. You close your eyes. You were naked in front of Kyungsoo. You wanted to run and hide. He was a friend for you, how could he stomach this image of you?

Junmyeon stood up, snatching your attention away from Kyungsoo. He walked to you and you bit your lip nervously. His hand reached for your cheek as you closed your eyes in anticipation of what was about to happen. It was shame, fear and anxiety all at the same time.

“Kneel.” Junmyeon ordered you as he shifted you to a position that your side profile was more visible to Kyungsoo. You followed Junmyeon’s command and kneel in front of him.

When your knees touched the velvet floor, it felt like you lost all your dignity as a human being. You were a slave to this man and if he said you should eat dog shit, you would. He was your god, after all.

Junmyeon unzipped his pants and pushed it lower, allowing his 9-inch penis spring to life. You gulped at the sight of his masculinity and you couldn’t help but gasp when it almost touched your face.

He looked at Kyungsoo who was standing by the door, eyes still on the floor. “Kyungsoo, watch us.” Junmyeon said with so much amusement in his voice. You refused to look at Kyungsoo when he said this. You knew Kyungsoo would obey him.

“Suck on it like the whore that you are.” Junmyeon smirked and held you by your hair. You wince a little at his harsh hold but then, you knew you should follow him.

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat and held the erect member. You opened your mouth and started to suck on the head. “Fuck.” Junmyeon audibly groaned when you let your tongue flick on his tip.

“More.” He pushed your head towards his cock more and you could feel it against your tonsils. Tears started to form in your eyes and you started to choke. You didn’t know if it was the huge penis in your mouth or the shame that you were feeling as you felt Kyungsoo’s gaze get heavier as he watched you and Junmyeon.

Tears streamed down your face but Junmyeon couldn’t care less. The choking and gasping noises you made just drove him crazier and harsher. He kept pushing you towards his cock, making you take it in as a whole every single time. Your head bobbed as more tears came. You didn’t know how something as degrading as this made you want it even more.

Junmyeon let go of your head as he threw his head back. You sucked his cock to your own accord now. You didn’t know how or when but this brought the same funny feeling you had with Minseok and Jongin.

You hold his cock as you divert your attention now to his balls. You caress them with your tongue while your hand pumped his member. “Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The curses Junmyeon spat made you want to work for it more. He was such a formal and professional person, you found out he only cursed like this whenever he was aroused.

You went back to his large cock and let your tongue flick its tip. You taste the salty precum and assume this was a compliment from Junmyeon. You took it in as a whole and he finally released his salty and bitter juice inside your mouth.

Before you could swallow his cum, Junmyeon held your jaw and made you open your mouth. Seeing his cum on your tongue made his cock twitch and his lips smirk. “Good girl.” He praised you and you felt the tingling sensation in your femininity heighten.

“Sit.” He pushes you onto the floor. You obey him and he makes you turn, facing Kyungsoo. You see his emotionless face as he stood there idly. You turn red in embarrassment as the thought of Kyungsoo seeing you suck your boss’s dick sink in.

Junmyeon pulled your left leg forcefully, making you widen the space between them. You cringed at the sight of your wet pussy that was facing Kyungsoo. His eyes widened at the sight and Junmyeon chuckled at that.

“Won’t you look at that? You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you.” Junmyeon growled, holding your legs apart from behind. You turn away in shame but Junmyeon uses his other hand to hold your jaw in place. He wanted Kyungsoo to see you like this.

“You still think this whore is a child, Kyungsoo?” He sarcastically laughed. Kyungsoo only shut his eyes. “No, Kyungsoo, watch. Watch this child turn into my whore.” He bellowed, his hand reaching for your pussy.

You felt his middle finger flick your clit and you whimper. He starts teasing you down there while he stared at Kyungsoo’s face. He was taunting him, showing him who you truly belonged to. You belonged to the Kims as their plaything.

He pinched your clit, making you scream. Your hands went to Junmyeon’s shoulders that were behind you. Your thighs trembled and you feel yourself reach your own peak. You clutched his shoulders as you felt your release. You close your eyes shut because you knew you were gonna squirt and Kyungsoo was about to see that too.

You opened your eyes and looked at Junmyeon’s satisfied face but stubbornly, he went on. He kept teasing your clit even if you already came. His gaze on Kyungsoo was smug and confident.

He puts a whole finger inside you so suddenly, making you jump in surprise. You bit your lip when you felt him entering and exiting your pussy so easily. You were that wet for him. For his touch.

His other hand that were holding your thighs apart travelled to your boob. The warmth of his palm against your cold breast makes you moan. “M-Master.” You manage to make out as you get wetter and wetter.

His finger started grazing your nipple as soon as he heard you begging. Jongin must’ve told him your nipples were your greatest weakpoint. You feel another release coming your way.

You cried as you reach for his shoulders for support again. You felt something gush out of you once again. You feel Junmyeon’s smirk against your bare shoulder.

You thought he was satisfied already but he kept going on. You were turning crazy now as he wanted you to come again. The finger that was entering your pussy was now below you as you rode it yourself. His hand was no longer moving. You pounded on his finger like the whore that he called you.

“Look at that, Kyungsoo.” He smugly bragged, gesturing to you who were now going crazy for his touch. He removed his hand from below you.

You were disappointed but he quickly crawled to your other side, his face now in your pussy. He was placing soft kisses on the inside of your thigh. He lets his tongue run down your vagina and you feel yourself tremble once again.

“I know that face.” Junmyeon declares as he sees you squirm. He beckoned Kyungsoo to come nearer. You hid your face in your palms immediately, blocking your sight as quickly as you could. You feel Junmyeon’s warm palm hit your pussy and that was enough to send you over the edge again.

You feel another wave of release coming. Tears once again came back to your face as you squirted for the third time today.

You fluttered your eyes open and you wanted to hide immediately. Horror entered your system. You see Kyungsoo’s face in between your legs. His cheeks were wet from your juice while Junmyeon stood behind him, smirking.

“See, she’s a bad girl, Kyungsoo. A slut, even.” Junmyeon licked his lips, an amused glint in his eyes. Shame was an understatement for how you were feeling right now. He was my oppa. He wasn’t supposed to see this, what more feel it on his face?

Junmyeon pushed Kyungsoo away from you. He replaced Kyungsoo’s position, his member still erect.

He enters you without any difficulty. You were so wet, his dick easily slid in and out of you. He rocked you as you laid limp on the floor.

He was grunting as he thrusted every time, hitting your G-spot. He pulled out immediately, letting his cum land on your bare stomach. You come one last time and this earns you a chuckle from Junmyeon.

You sighed when it was finally done. “You can go now, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon smirked as he stood. Kyungsoo immediately raced out of the study. He must’ve been traumatized and that made you guilty.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Junmyeon formally said, pulling his pants up. He was back to himself after that final release. His pent up frustration might have been the reason why he switches personality when aroused.

You stood up too. You picked your clothes up from the floor and wore it back. Junmyeon nonchalantly returned to his desk and continued with his paperworks.

You were about to exit but Junmyeon spoke once again, his eyes still concentrating on the paper on his desk.

“Lesson for today, Y/N: Never make me jealous. I hate hearing you squeal and call someone else oppa.”

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Note

So I see your a LeviHan shipper!! I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite?? Maybe you could explain that a little through a list? But anyways I hope your week has been good so far, Sav. Have a good day/night!!!! - Signed by Your Secret Santa 🎄

Hello! Thank you for asking about my week (and my ship).

I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite?

To answer that first question...

You’re in for a long rollercoaster ride of a rant because I don’t think I’m the type of person to ship anything to the point of writing domestic fluff fics unless the I felt really really drawn to the ship.

Anyway, (slight) spoilers abound! Will keep manga spoilers subtle, mostly Levihan scenes.

Disclaimer: I do not want to start shipping wars. I specifically avoided the words like should or best because I recognize that shipping is generally based on preferences. I respect everyone’s preferences on what they want out of a ship or even a relationship and through this, I just hope to express my own preferences and maybe even gush with people who agree.

1. The ship did not move the plot. The plot moved the ship.

Attack on Titan is not a romance or a shojo, if it’s not fairly obvious from any chapter you would randomly read. As a reader, I would have expected it to fall short with pairings. Most shows which are not romance based tend to have a few pairings which just suddenly end up together towards the end of the manga because “What’s a happy ending without marriage and kids?” There is usually a trend of just pairing of the extras and sometimes, or maybe even more often than not, it just seems to come out of nowhere (ehem... Naruto.). Maybe the relationship worked off screen but I dunno. Like no shipping war here but the only pairing I had full support for was Shikatema.

In stories classified as romances, there is enough of a spotlight on the sexual tension and mutual pining of specific characters for the romance to be considered reasonable. In my opinion, some authors tend to sacrifice really good world building for a good romance. Objectively twilight for example had some crazy good world building but it just kinda focused a little too much on emo Bella and emo Edward for the world building to actually be appreciated by the casual reader. Tbh though, this is not necessarily bad because people get into stuff for reasons, sometimes, I just wanna read a good fantasy, sometimes I just wanna read a good romance.

Romances though as a main driving point for narratives, require some convenient serendipity moments and sexual tension which can be written well but as a reader, I prefer to see more natural relationships born out of necessity (Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata is a good example of what I’m talking about in a romance novel.)

Attack on Titan through its narrative actually made Levihan seem VERY VERY possible. If I had to compare the presentation of this ship in canon to at least one relationship in other anime, I would compare it to Royai from FMA.

Like, if Attack on Titan didn’t give us random subtle hints about romantic or just platonic relationships between the two or even about anyone, even if Levi and Hange did get together in the end, it would have been one of the pairings, I probably wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow at.

But they could be just friends? Which brings me to my next point.

2. Their current situation makes it so it’s only natural that at the least, they considered it.

Yes. Friends is a valid interpretation for anything. I mean, given our hook up culture, people can fuck as friends too. People probably have made out drunk as friends too. Like I have seen my fair share of this type of bullshit in high school and college and I would say, we do not need a kiss or a fucking session to recognize that something can be a good relationship or to recognize that they have probably thought about it.

A relationship requires a commitment (conscious or unconscious) to caring for the other, keeping the other safe, recognizing their flaws and thinking about them regularly (Call me scott peck or marriage counselor but like I honestly think the world would be a better place once people recognize that quality romantic relationships are worked for).

Mind you, Levi and Hange lost everything.They literally lost everything from their old life, all their friends, all their loved ones and all they have is each other and they’re forced to take care of a bunch of kids.

There are people who have said before, no one gets very close with someone without ever considering a romantic relationship with them. Or even if they never considered it romantic, they could consider at least “living with them their whole life,” or “supporting them through thick and thin.” The things is, towards the end, they were constantly together and what drove them to that situation is that both of them are aware of what the other had lost. They understood each other more than anyone else and they recognized that they were the only ones left in their own circle and I personally think that is more than enough for a relationship to naturally bloom between them.

3. The relationship and the signs are subtle and it works.

I personally probably would not have enjoyed it if canon showed a romantic relationship of the two after Erwin died. It’s a valid interpretation to consider that it could have happened, based on my explanation for number 2 but Hange is commander, Levi is captain. They have a professional relationship and they have goals and obligations which take precedence over personal desires. They are in the middle of a war and the most which probably could have happened was a secret mutual pining between the two and I think Isayama has injected the most subtle hints which are the most that could have been appropriately put into canon without seeming too OOC. Hange and Levi are not selfish people. They have promises, dreams and obligations which they respect and have committed themselves to already. It has also been shown at earlier points of the manga that they do put their survey corps duties on top of everything so acting on a romantic attraction at that point in time would have definitely been inappropriate.

I personally think, the scenes of Hange going out of her way to save Levi as commander, killing her other soldiers to save both their asses, suggesting in the forest that they live together instead of go back to the war and not leaving an injured Levi until she had no choice were more powerful than a lot of romantic scenes where people actually fuck and kiss. Kissing and fucking are easy. Leaving the duties and responsibilities they have worked for for five years to keep the person they love alive hits way harder.

Call it platonic. Call it romantic. But no one like Hange would have deserted her post as commander for a few chapters to take care of a sick comrade and kill her subordinates to save their asses if there wasn’t anything between them.

4. It gives a great example what healthy relationships can come from.

I grew up reading sweet valley and chick lits cause I was a basic bitch and I kinda grew up with a somehow unrealistic idea of where relationships come from. Call me a late bloomer but I only actually figured out where the romance and the happiness of a relationship was when I got into one with my best friend for five years.

It’s the sexual tension and the “will they wont they?” push and pull which can lead to satisfying sex or a happy ending in romance novels. I think in a way, media kinda overglorifies it which kinda gives a lot of young people the wrong idea about why they getting into a relationship is fun in the first place. Because after the satisfying sex and the kids, what’s next for the relationship?

Years of utility bills, diapers, chores, schedules, parent teacher conferences and compromises until someone gives up or dies. And what kind of relationships can actually thrive through all these?

Those that have mastered the underrated parts of relationships. These include conflict resolutions, compromises and open communication. I think we have seen enough of those two, even before season 3 that have shown that they know each other very well and they have shown to at least have a relatively equal power dynamic which is a foundation for open communication and mutual trust in relationships even beyond the fucking and marriage stage

5. They have a great foundation of character development for both parties.

As I mentioned above, they have a relatively equal power dynamic. I love Royai from FMA and I have compared Royai to this multiple times. I would say though I prefer Levihan over Royai because I felt that Royai had more unequal power dynamics? (Though I still think Royai is a top tier ship ). Also, they have shown to tell off the other when they don’t like what the other is doing. They are complete opposites but here is the magical thing. They talk everything out. They’re generally open people to each other and they know each other way too well as hinted in scenes before and opposites work as long as the others are willing to compromise. I think (especially in season 3 and season 4) that they have done enough for each other and have compromised enough for each other in the survey corps that these skills could easily be brought with them even after the war.

That open communication is just what makes them maintaining a relationship while being complete opposites very OC and realistic. Eventually, they did probably did make compromises, which most likely softened or moderated the crazy parts of their personalities which is just a really fun part of their relationship to explore.

6. It could realistically last so maybe ...

7. A good foundation for happy children?

Maybe it’s how it is written because of the actual story and why would Yams write a romantic drama in a story about genocide and war. Tbh, I would attribute it more to Levi and Hange’s personalities though because Mikasa and Eren have their fair share of drama, mostly one sided though coz Mikasa. This relationship has no drama, no misunderstandings which just further supports my point that they have a relationship that thrives on open communication and mutual trust. Drama is fun like when we’re the ones on the sidelines eating the popcorn but I have third wheeled enough people in my life to realize that I will not support a relationship where both parties are just not ready to be mature about it, in real life and in fiction.

My favorite couples, in real life and in fiction, are definitely those who keep conflict among themselves and maybe among trusted people. I think one sign of a healthy relationship is one where problems don’t become public through social media or through like 20 people. One important yet underrated part of relationships is the atmosphere of comfort and freedom which encourages both parties to be able to directly approach one another before tensions and uncertainties get out of hand.

And a life free of dramas at least in the early stages of life just kinda shows at least that both parties are ready to bring a new life to the world? Because like immature parents with shitty conflict resolution skills really fuck kids up man and I passionately believe the world would really be a better place if babies were born out of trust, mutual understanding and open communication instead of sex but yeah, make sex fun to keep our race alive.

So anyway, I guess, I just finished explaining why I love this ship so much while also disclosing my preferences for relationships.

As mentioned above...

Other pairings which I support for those curious: Shikatema, Royai, Victuuri, Percabeth etc.

Also... To answer your second question...

My week has been great, some pretty solid life developments but US elections wise, not so great... (WHY IS THE ELECTION RACE SO CLOSE?)

#levihan #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hange zoe #ship #analysis

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gisellelx · 3 years

Text

Faces

Carlisle x Esme 2200 words

for @needahugfromesme

Faces

Fall, 1934 Amherst, MA

It was an utterly ordinary afternoon. Rosalie and Edward had recently returned from university, and the sounds of their bickering rose up the stairs. Why the two of them did not find their peace elsewhere, she didn’t know. She might send them off to hunt, she thought. Perhaps in different counties.

Yet there was something familiar about the way the two of them had fallen into rhythm as siblings. Edward, older and younger brother at once. Rosalie, full of disastrously-won wisdom and always aggrieved, unwilling to listen to Edward’s point of view. There was no sign that they would ever be the partners Esme’s husband had once imagined, hoping that a woman might solve the same hole in Edward’s heart that Esme herself had solved in his. And yet there was a camaraderie in their arguments and insults, a rhythm to their family dynamic that somehow made it more whole. They were true siblings—occasionally quietly bonded over the latest news from Chevrolet, more often sniping like children about closed bedroom doors.

Carlisle, though—he was more difficult. Rosalie had snapped at him before he’d left for work. Her resentment knew no bounds, exacerbated by the knowledge that even in his moment of profoundly foolish savior-complex, he had been thinking of Edward, and the pain that still burned in his own heart, two years after their prodigal son had returned…

Esme wasn’t sure Rosalie would ever forgive him.

She wasn’t sure Rosalie should.

Her husband didn’t know how to relate to a daughter, Esme understood. His son had completed him so fully—unlocking with his gift the centuries of solitude which made Carlisle Cullen who he was. Like everything of importance Carlisle did, he had turned Rosalie it rashly, without regard to her effects on anyone else.

Rosalie was just strong enough to force him to pay the price for that.

Esme recalled her husband’s slumped shoulders as he exited the house after the latest round of berating from his daughter. The look in his eyes of utter defeat.

“She’ll cool off,” Esme had whispered to him hours before, but she hadn’t—as usual, she had taken her discomfort out on Edward. And as Esme listened to the voices reaching a fever pitch downstairs—a back and forth which grew increasingly intense but did not reach a point where she needed to intervene—she selected charcoal, her hand flying across the paper on her easel before she even knew what she was beginning. As so many times before, it was her husband’s face her fingers brought to mind. She had drawn him how many dozens of times in the ten years between the time she had met him and when she had awoken to this new life. The high cheekbones, the square jaw, the singular lock of utterly unruly hair at his temple which seemed to exist only to prove that there were some things Carlisle Cullen could never control. She had forced herself to recall those features over and over, to render them in more permanent forms—charcoal, pencil, oil pastel. Over and over she had drawn him until his face had been committed not only to the memory of her mind but also the memory of her fingers.

She had never planned to have a daughter. She had known, somehow, from the moment she felt the first strange sensation in her abdomen. Not a kick or a flutter or any of the things that her girlfriends had told her to expect, but instead as though some of her internal organs simply…flipped over. She had touched her own belly in awe, and had known right then, without thinking, that it was a male child. Perhaps a daughter would have softened her husband, but she knew, somehow, that a male child was in greater danger. That he would not be protected; that he would be pushed, that the expectation upon his barely-formed shoulders would be impossible. It had been that conviction that had put her on the Great Lakes train, whisked her to a state she’d never seen before, and which later drove her from her cousin’s to the very northern tip of the country.

Then her son had been born, with his tiny squalling body and his perfect smell, only to be ripped away fewer than two days later. And she had reached out in despair and found not her son, but the gentle face she had sketched for a decade, staring down at her.

Today, as she laid out the roughest of her husband’s familiar form, Esme was not fully aware that somehow, she had softened the beautiful severity of his cheekbones, that she had added subtle curvature to the sharpness of his jaw. But she had done so, and it wasn’t Carlisle’s face which was emerging.

It had been an entire year, now, that their family of three had been a family of four. And a scant single score of years that the hardened bachelor and his beloved son had welcomed any feminine presence into their lives. She had worried about being a bother to them both, and she knew, that sometimes, she was—the way Edward’s eyes would narrow from time to time, the way Carlisle shadowed him when he was upset.

And so she tried. She tried to reach to Rosalie. She tried to bridge the shared elements of their past, only to be met with the coldest of shoulders. This family, Rosalie seemed to say, was the world of the men. Rose hated Carlisle for his hubris, hated Edward for his gift, and if she didn’t hate Esme, it was only for Esme’s shared experience of these two things.

So, as she thought of her daughter, listened to bickering give way to quiet conversation, and then to silence, and then to the gentle chords of a sonata, the cheekbones softened, the jawbone became subtler, the high forehead became heart-shaped with a widow’s peak. The nose became thinner, the lips softer, and the single unruly lock of golden hair became dozens, spilling onto shoulders which sloped more gently.

It was difficult for vampires to get fully lost in work, and so she heard when the front door open and close. Edward was still playing, and wherever Rose had moved to—her bedroom, if the distance to her scent was to believed—she was quiet. So Esme knew that her husband was home even before she heard a briefcase drop gently to the floor and before the waft of smoked cinnamon made its way to her nose. She had a split-second to consider this fact before warm lips had buried themselves where her neck met her collarbone.

“What are you drawing,” her husband muttered, and she shook her head.

“Nothing.”

“It’s never nothing.” He stepped back and appraised the easel, reaching out with one hand. She laid down her charcoal and smacked his arm playfully.

“It isn’t nothing. But I’m not finished yet. Go bother the children.”

He sighed. “They’re fighting.”

“They’ve been fighting all afternoon. It’s quieter, now.”

Her husband chuckled, pressing his lips to her neck again. “I apologize for leaving you alone all day with that.”

She shook her head. “Edward plays impromptus when he’s angry with Rose. It’s good background.” It had been Fauré , today—the impossibly fast descending scales across the keyboard, sounding like water. Esme had never bothered to learn the details of classical music before, but now it was impossible not to—she marveled at times at the way her mind was able to store the names of styles and composers and even the actual beats of the music itself. She hadn’t cared, before, but with Edward, it became a thing about which one cared. To love Edward was to love his piano, and that meant that all of them learned to understand it.

“Give me another half-hour?” she asked.

Her husband nodded, kissing her neck again and then disappearing. The piano stopped mid-phrase, and she heard only one-sided murmurs which told her that Carlisle and Edward were engaged in one of their desperately intimate conversations. If she strained, she could hear them, no doubt, but she chose not to, letting her hand bring shape to the face whose provenance she now understood. She kept the long eyelashes, and the light-hued eyes. She made the lips ever so slightly fuller, and drew the slightest hint of a bosom at the bottom of the page.

It was longer than a half hour before Carlisle returned. From the subtle addition to his scent, it seemed likely he had been sitting with Edward at the piano, having one of their near-silent conversations. Edward could read Carlisle’s mind, of course, but after a decade and a half, it often seemed that Carlisle could read Edward’s almost as surely. They often sat in silent companionship, Edward plying, Carlisle listening, bonded by their thoughts and impenetrable by either Rosalie or Esme.

Carlisle kissed her before even bothering to look at the easel. She let herself fall into the kiss, the way her husband’s supple lips moved against her own. It was only several minutes later that he seemed to remember what he had intended to inquire after, and pulled away to appraise the drawing. His head cocked to one side as he gazed at it, his mouth falling open slightly in recognition.

He had revealed this sad fact in their very first conversation. She, half-delirious from the laudanum, he, trying bravely to keep his demeanor professional. Yet she recalled it with her hazy, opiate-influenced human memory, nearly with the same crystal clarity that he did. As she’d asked after his name, and after receiving his title, asked his first name, which he had, to his own surprise, volunteered.

“I’ve never met a Carlisle before,” she’d told him, and he’d only smirked.

“Nor I an Esme. One wonders why you are not a Mary, or a Margaret.”

And she’d returned his smile and his gentle banter. She had inquired where the unusual name had come from, and he had answered that perhaps it was his mother’s maiden name, and then she had asked after his mother, eliciting the same pained, faraway look that graced his features now as he explained how and when she had died...

“Not knowing what your father looked like,” Esme offered as he stared silently, “I wasn’t sure which of your features to subtract, but…”

The gulp was audible. “No,” her husband said quietly, “I imagine this is about right.” Another deep swallow, then: “What brought this on?”

She shrugged. “I’m not even sure myself.” Involuntarily, her right hand opened and closed, feeling the ghost of the charcoal still in her fingers. She sighed.

“Rosalie,” she said quietly.

Carlisle shot her a quizzical look.

“I suppose I was thinking about Rosalie. And how you left with her still angry.”

There were two stools in her studio, one before each easel, both unnecessary in the strictest sense, but they encouraged the right posture for sweeping her arm across wide paper or canvas. Carlisle pulled the second one near her and sat down, his lips suddenly pressed tight.

“She hates me,” he muttered.

Esme nodded. “Sometimes, yes. You don’t always make it easy for her.”

He thrust a hand into his hair, and the unruly lock fell through his fingers. When he spoke again, his voice was clipped with frustration. “I just want her to be happy.”

“You can’t force people to be happy, Carlisle.”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “You’d think that after what happened with Edward, I’d know that.”

She laughed in answer. Two years on, their mercurial son was beginning to recover from his shame and anger. Gentler songs came from the piano more often than not, and every now and then, even an original composition. Slowly, month by month, arpeggio by arpeggio, he was coming back to them.

“I suppose…” she began. When she hadn’t finished her sentence a moment later, Carlisle prodded.

“You suppose?”

She gestured. She had drawn the woman with the same tired but indulgently kind eyes her husband had. Eyes that suggested that whatever the person being looked on was wont to do, they would be forgiven. They would be loved.

“You have a daughter now,” she said gently. “I thought it might be helpful for you to remember that once, you had a mother, too.”

Her husband’s thin lips pressed together even more tightly, and she saw his adam’s apple move yet again. She stood up, brushing the charcoal off her fingertips against her skirt as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. She laid a hand on his shoulder briefly, then went down the stairs.

It was nearly two hours of listening to the piano later, watching Rosalie read and pretend not to care what Edward was playing, before Esme bothered to creep back up to her studio. The door was still open a crack, and the air was still thick with the smoked cinnamon that was her husband’s scent as she peeked inside.

Carlisle sat alone in the utter dark, his legs crossed, the moonbeams shading in through the window making his skin a translucent blue white as he gazed up into the portrait’s kind, pale eyes. Slowly, his hand crept from his side to reach out, the pad of his finger tracing the jawline she had sketched. And then it hung there, index finger outstretched, as though it was not the strong, assured hand of a surgeon but the beseeching hand of a child, reaching, desperately, across space and time.

Quietly, Esme pulled the door closed and went to find her daughter.

#fanfic #my fic #twilight #carlesme #carlisle x esme #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #cien años #draft #I'll probably come up with some more revisions by morning #had to find the right spot into this one

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

Text

@purplesangel, @kokokatsworld, +anons

Decided to do a Turtle of Choice x Fem!Reader thing, since I got that “wanna fuck you against the window” thing for ALL OF THE BOYS. Gonna write it as an AU where the turtle of your choice is the boss/CEO of a prestigious and fancy-pantsy place you work at. So, myeah, nice turts in suits 😏👌 (also mutants are a known thing in that AU)

13: Look what you do to me 26: I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it 57: We’re in public you know 59: Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop 64: I love the way you look with my fingers inside you 75: If you interrupt me one more time— so help me god 107: Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then

You had started that assistant job out of pure luck after finding an add for it online. That Hamato company had a good reputation regarding advancements of any kinds; techonogical, financial, you name it. The four turtles who oversaw it were seen as the undeclared rulers of Manhattan, their power and influence overseeing many spheres of New York’s scene. They equally shared the role of CEO amongst them, being brothers and their trust infallible. You had been teamed up with one of them, the three others already with an assistant of their own. And you instantly bonded with your boss. He had that charm and appeal that could only bring you closer to him. His reptilian features sure enhanced his beauty, as well as his power - both physical and financial - only enticed you more.

As the days passed, soon they became weeks, and before you knew it it had already been a couple of months since you were working for him. By that time, you two had that inseparable bond that you had to keep secret when at work, for the sole sake of professionalism. But you sure both had that little game going on that had you on edge at times. It would mostly lead to incredible sex when back at his place, but sometimes the tension rose so much at work, you were both tempted to just hide in a broom closet and go at it...

That one time, you had decided to wear that new business suit which its pencil skirt hugged your bottom half so well. You felt powerful, incredibly beautiful and in control. It’s when you were at that top of the world in your esteem that you truly realized that your mutant boss was truly in the palm of your hand - devoted and enamored to you. From the very start of the day you could feel his gaze following you whenever you’d pass in front of his office door, and you frankly wanted to push it further. After collecting some paperwork meant for him, you made a beeline to his office and gently knocked at the doorframe. You knew he was aware of your presence, but you so definitely wanted to play the game...

“Yes?” he said, his eyes slowly going over you.

“I have some documents that are in need of your signature.... But if you’re too busy, I can come by later. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reminder as I’ll walk across this entry many times.”

He leaned back in his chair a little, some amusement showing on his features.

“I don’t think you’d be able to keep walking around all day with those heels and that nice skirt of yours.”

“Are you sure? Once I start, I don’t think I’m able to stop.”

He gulped. You being so assertive all of sudden just made the gears turn so perfectly...

“Alright. Come in. Close the door,” he said, gesturing you to come forward. “I’ll sign those damn paperwork so I can spare you walking a hundred miles in a thight skirt.”

After closing the door, you placed the pile on his desk, sitting across him - only the furniture separating you both. He took out a pen, shuffling through some pages.

“Okay then where do I si-”

“Pages fourteen, twenty-six, forty, and fifty-two,” you cut.

He paused, only his gaze moving up to you with a small frown. Your smirk brought a small sigh out of him, then proceeding to turn to the first page mentionned. After a quick glance at it, he was starting to grow annoyed.

“Oh I hate it when there’s a billion lines. Which one do I-”

You had already sprung to your feet, coming next to him - real close - and pointing to a couple of lines.

“Here, here, annnnd here.”

At your last ‘here’, you had next moved your hand to gently trail along his forearm, your nails softly going against his scales.

“If you interrupt me one more time- so help me god,” he then said.

“I’m just trying to help, sir,” you added, feigning innocence, your hand still on him.

Good lord, he could smell you and it was amazing. He turned his chair to face you, now making you stand in-between his opened legs.

“Help me? Look what you do to me,” his hand slightly motioned downward.

You noticed the starting buldge in his pants, now feeling pleased.

“We’re in public, you know?” he added.

“The door is closed, sir. Unless someone really wants to bother you, this doesn’t count as public...”

It’s as if you had said the exact magic words he needed to hear. One hand at the small of your back, he brought you closer and you were both instantly locked in a kiss. A part of him wanted to throw everything on his desk off to the ground, but he knew in the end that’d he regret trying to put everything back in order (especially the damn paperwork...). Instead his hands started to venture on your form, a part of his touch getting lower and lower to your core.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he purred inbetween kisses.”But I do wonder how it’d look if I lift it up a little...”

As it was thight around your form, that was no easy task, but the mutant let it seem like it was no big deal as he got to the deed.

“Wanna interrupt me again?” he said. “Wanna tell me what to do next?”

“Will I lose my job if I do so?” you answered with a smirk.

“I’ll give you a promotion,” he smiled too.

You stopped talking, prefering to guide him with actions instead. Moving his hand, you drove him to your underwear only so he could start to tease you. He caught on your need, following suit on his own. Both your neediness kept translating through your kisses and touches, every steps in your actions gradually - yet rapidly - evolving to a state that had the two of you repeating the same thought over and over again: I need you right now. He slid his hand into your underwear, aiming for your core. His caress was languid and it just felt so right when he slipped a finger in. You were breathing roughly against his scales, your hands taking support against the upper ridge of his shell. You noticed his renewed smile as he gazed down at this initial connection.

“I love the way you look with my finger inside you...”

“Don’t you want more? I want more,” you mewled, your hips instinctively following his rhythm in small circle motions.

He looked back up to you, his lips aiming for one side of your throath and eagerly traveling to your jaw and cheek.

“More... I do,” he murmured against your skin. “I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.”

That took you slightly by surprise, although your quick fear died as you remembered that the windows of this building were tinted on the outside - making it impossible for any crowd to see anything. But perhaps he simply wanted to leave a trace of yourself on his side, a phantom trophy for anyone to see, if they had a keen eye. You gasped as he grabbed you easily by your waist, lifting you only to place you against a nearby window. Your arms were quick to wrap around his neck, kissing him again and again as you could feel him struggle a little to set himself free.

“You better not leave any marks on my new suit,” you warned, breathing hard from all that action rushing through your veins.

He smiled, amused and delighted: “Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then.”

A loud gasp left you as you felt his cock enter. His churr invaded your ears as he started with a slow pace, nuzzling you. His large hands were holding you up from the bottom of your ass to a part behind your thighs; perfectly in control. You weighed nothing to this mutant, and that was an incredible turn on... As the seconds passed, the need only grew stronger and stronger. Your skin ached to be mostly covered in clothing, but the spontaneity of it all threw your desire through the roof. You could feel your lover going deeper and stronger, the growl in his throath entertwined with his panting, only for you to hear. Your nails were starting to scrape his scales, unable to contain your excitement - unless you’d allow yourself to scream and moan, which was not particularly ideal.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.... and you’re all mine...,” you heard him say.

“Oh, sir,” you mewled, playful and wanting more.

The warmth of him, mixed with the window’s cold, could only bring you on such a high. You almost forgot how to breathe as you could feel him nibble at your skin and your core rubbing oh so great against him.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna- ... Fuck! I’m gonna-”

You had a hard time speaking, everything a blur.

“Do it, love, I wanna feel you tight around my dick.”

That request had you cumming in no time, the turtle slightly slowing his pace only so he could savor each squeeze of your walls around him. But as soon as you began to calm down, he regained his vigor, already so close.

“Cum with me again, I know you can,” he asked lovingly, followed by kisses.

Without hesitation you brought a hand to your clitoris, rubbing to match his pace. As his name escaped your lips over and over again in silent pleas, you felt your second rush wave in, this time accompanied by the familiar sensation of his release. Both your arms were now again resting around his neck, humming in delight as you kept smiling and nuzzling his cheek.

“... I promote you to employee of the month. Goddamn, even employee of the year,” softly laughed the terrapin.

“If that title comes with benefits such as this, I’ll gladly accept,” you added.

As he removed himself and put you back to the ground, you wobbled slightly as you brought your panties back up, then lowering your skirt to its rightful position. .... Walking in high heels today would prove to be quite the challenge. “You good?” quietly asked the mutant, leaving a hand to your elbow in order to sustain you a little.

“Never been better,” you smirked.

As you took some time to properly arrange your hair, the other proceeded to sign the papers still on his desk, after making sure that his attire was rightfully in place. Once everything was done, you crossed eachother’s gaze and couldn’t help the quiet laughter and snickers from leaving you both, knowing you had lost enough time as it is. Opening the door, the terrapin was also at the frame, handing you the documents.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, miss. You are most certainly a valuable asset in this company as your efficacity brings projects to a fast and most optimal motion.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, taking the papers and then professionally shaking his hand. “I only aim to bring the best of me in this workplace.”

“And that is always appreciated.”

You could only strut back to your desk afterward, definitely floating high on a cloud.

#purplesangel #kokokatsworld #anon #ask #prompt #if you guys want more of this AU - I might do some more stuff about that #I just love this aesthetic u__u #also sorry if there's any errors - I kinda went ham on this

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

Text

Interruptions

Summary: Ada’s twin sister takes a more active role in her brothers’ company. Yet that means she has frequent run-ins with Alfie Solomons who she is less than fond of.

Requested by @bangbap

To be fair, Helen didn’t hate Alfie Solomons as much as she hated other people. There was a clear hierarchy of the men that her brother did business with. Alfie was somewhere around the middle. She found him arrogant, overbearing, and aloof with a bit of a god-complex mixed in. But she didn’t get to pick and choose who she worked with as a part of the Shelby Company Ltd.

Helen didn’t feel like she owed her brothers anything but seeing as her twin, Ada, took no interest in the company, she felt as if she might as well help. She was very close with Polly and took comfort under her aunt’s wing, learning all she could.

Still, there were days when she wished she had followed Ada’s route. Taking a salary and living nicely in London. One of those days was trekking all the way out to London, Camden Town more specifically.

Her brothers were all too busy to bring paperwork to Alfie. While Arthur had some reservations about their younger sister going, the paperwork was important in upholding the fragile relationship between the Camden Jews and the Blinders. Besides, everything Helen learned was from either her brothers or Polly. She didn’t go down without a fight.

~~~~~~~~

Ollie recognized the woman as she approached the bakery. “Morning, Miss Shelby.” He greeted politely although there was a hint of confusion on his face.

“How are you, Ollie?” Helen took no issue with Alfie’s assistant. The young man seemed to do his best and had a personality very opposite of his boss.

“I’m well…but we weren’t expecting you.” He admitted. There was nothing on Alfie’s agenda that had anything to do with the Shelbys.

“Tommy confirmed with him over the phone that I would be coming out today.” She replied.

“Right…I guess there was a mix-up.”

“Well, this will only take a moment.” Helen smiled tightly and went to go through the double doors.

Ollie looked a little panicked, following her close behind. “I should warn you not to trouble him. He’s in a mood.”

“So am I. I’ve had to travel all the way to London to do my brothers’ dirty work. I’m not exactly in the best mood either.” She didn’t slow down, striding down the hall toward Alfie’s office.

“It wouldn’t be wise-”

“I’ve dealt with him before; I can handle it.” And that was that. There was no stopping her as she knocked on the door.

“Fuck off!” Alfie’s angry voice came from the other side.

“It’s Helen Shelby, I’ve got contracts that need signing.” She didn’t waver.

There was a pause before heavy footsteps crossed the office and the door flung open. “What part of fuck off do you not understand, love?” Alfie stood in the doorway with an intimidating stance.

“What don’t you understand about these contracts need signing?” She retorted before slipping past him and making herself comfortable in his office. “You knew I was coming, oh hello Cyril, Tommy called you and confirmed. It’s not my fault, oh yes I see you Cyril that’s a good boy, that you can’t keep track of your appointments.”

Alfie turned around bewildered that she had pushed her way in. The nerve of some people. “Love, I could shoot you right now, yeah, just on the account of you fucking trespassing into me office.”

Helen dropped the stack of paper on his desk and sat down to pet Cyril. At least the dog was happy to see her. “Then you’d have more Shelbys trespassing, wouldn’t you?”

Alfie grumbled obscenities under his breath. She’d called his bluff more than enough times. Both of them were highly aware that he would never bring her harm, but it was the only threat he had in his arsenal. No other threats worked on her. After a few months of their professional relationship, Alfie found that she was a mix of her brothers. That was the worst thing about her. She had the calm, stoic nature of Tommy but had the temper of Arthur when she so chose.

“You just have to sign a couple of papers and I’ll be gone.”

“I may not sign them just on the fucking principle,” Alfie responded stubbornly.

“Oh God, Alfie, please don’t act like a child.” Helen rolled her eyes.

“I’m acting like a child? You’re the one who barged her way in here without a fucking care in the world.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll reschedule a day with your brother. Get out.”

�� “I came all the way from Birmingham, I’m not leaving without a fucking signature.” She stood up to stare him down.

“Well, you can think about your manners on your way back to that shithole.”

She scoffed. “My manners?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, for Christ-never mind. Fuck it.” She gathered the papers on the desk. “I’m not wasting my time with you. But you’re the one who will have to answer to Tommy.” She spat before storming out of the office.

“Like I’m scared of your brother!” He yelled after her. The sound of her heels on the concrete floor faded away. There was no trace of her left. Alfie hated that he felt a pang of emptiness in her absence.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy exchanged words with Alfie and a week later, Helen was sent back to Camden Town despite her protests.

Ollie wasn’t at the door, so she let herself in. She passed the assistant on the way to Alfie’s office.

“He’s expecting you.” He confirmed.

“Oh, good. The man can finally remember something for once.” Helen replied sarcastically as she knocked on the door.

“Come in.” At least it was a nicer reply than last time.

Helen walked in. “Are you going to behave this time or am I going to have to go back empty-handed again?”

Alfie leaned back in his desk chair, arms crossed, half-moon glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On your attitude.”

“You want me to grovel or something? May I remind you; you were the one who caused the fuss last time.”

Alfie tutted his tongue and shook his head. “You’ve learned too much from your brothers.”

“I’m not my brothers.” She decided to sit down instead of arguing on her feet. “They lack my charm.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You Shelbys and your charm.” He leaned forward and lazily sorted through the paperwork she set down on his desk.

“Oh, please just sign them. Don’t play around.”

But each of his movements was deliberate. Slow and careful to increase their time together. Alfie couldn’t put his finger on why he liked Helen so much. After all, she had most of the Shelby qualities that drove him up the wall. Yet, he could tolerate her for hours. He enjoyed their banter and it didn’t hurt that he thought she was beautiful.

Helen raised an eyebrow at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you need a pen? I’ve got one.” She began to rummage through her purse.

“Tell you what,” He tapped his knuckles against the desktop. “I’ll sign ‘em, but not here.”

“Alf-”

“Just hear me out, aye? There’s a place on Regent’s we can go to.”

Helen paused and recollected herself. “I’m sorry. Alfie Solomons, are you asking me on a date?”

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “S’pose it depends on if you want to call it that.”

“Well…” She subconsciously fixed her hair. “If my brothers found out they would kill you.”

“They want to kill me for a lot of reasons, love. But I understand.”

“Do you understand that our meeting at this place on Regent’s will be business?”

Alfie narrowed his eyes. She had a small smirk on her lips. “Right…right, business. Business.” He nodded in affirmation. He understood.

Helen couldn’t help but laugh softly. “All this time you’ve been giving me trouble.”

“Well, you Shelbys are attracted to trouble. So, to keep you around…”

“You stirred up trouble.” She never thought her second trip to Camden would result in such a way. And yet…it felt right. Maybe she’d been waiting all this time. Being a Shelby was thrilling in its own right. But sneaking around with Alfie Solomons? It felt like electricity coursing through her veins.

“So?”

“So, I’ll go to my sister’s home to get ready for our meeting. You can pick me up there.” She stood up and lingered by his desk.

“Ada won’t tell your brothers?”

“No, she won’t notice where I’ve gone.”

Alfie nodded and stood up as well. “Erm, I’ll walk you out then.” He offered.

But Helen stopped at the door and waited until he got close to her. Feeling that jolt of thrill, she kissed his cheek.

He stopped in his tracks as if he’d completely frozen.

She looked smugly at him. “That’s for making me come out here a second time, Solomons.” She murmured before going on her way.

“Fucking hell.” He grinned and watched her leave.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #one shot #alfie solomons one shot #tom hardy #tom hardy character #shelby sibling

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journalxxx · 3 years

Text

Green Light

Toshinori Yagi had never been much of an avid reader.

In his youth, bursting with energy and good intentions as he was, the mere act of standing still in any one place felt like torture. There were places to be, people to save, villains to track down, not to mention training. Literary and artistic pursuits were valuable and commendable, but Toshinori himself preferred leaving them to others, while he himself could fulfil the task of ensuring that such talented individuals could let their inspiration bloom in a safe and hospitable society. Even in the latest years, when the burden of heroic activities weighed too much on his wrecked body to allow him more than a handful of work hours per day, he hadn't quite managed to find a taste for books, and had filled his sadly abundant downtime with movies instead.

Yet, that evening, a long-forgotten memory of literary nature sprang to his mind. David Shield, his brilliant wingman from the days spent in America after graduating, had been a proper bookworm - a strangely action-inclined one, but a bookworm nonetheless, and his love for novels was second only to his overwhelming passion for science and engineering. He used to chat with his Japanese friend about his favorite reads, and Toshinori recalled a bit of a heated rant about The Great Gatsby. A green light, twinkling in the darkness, a visible reminder of human ambition and strife for greatness, even a metaphor for the great American dream itself. A beacon of hope that stole one's gaze and breath, both out of satisfaction and frustration. Toshinori was reminded of that conversation, that evening, as his eyes followed the electric green light zooming around in the darkening sky, hopping over and between buildings with astonishing speed, closer and closer.

"You hurt?" Toshinori asked, as soon as Midoriya landed, after decelerating with a couple of hops and stopping precisely next to him.

"I'm... all right." The hooded figure replied, ever so slightly out of breath because of the effort, or maybe because of the dust cloud he'd raised.

"Your arms and legs?"

Midoriya had developed a worrying tolerance to pain in the last year and his definition of 'injury' had shifted accordingly, so Toshinori couldn't help ascertaining his student's safety to the point of redundancy. His insistence was met with a confident eyes as the boy uncovered his face and flexed his fingers, proving that the latest addition to his combat equipment had worked as intended. Toshinori had warned him early on about the dangers of relying too much on gauntlets, braces and assorted devices, and there had been no signs of him having forgotten about that. Still, he reminded him once more of the importance of avoiding wounds and shattered bones in the current circumstances. Midoriya accepted his mentor's words without a trace of annoyance, as always.

Toshinori's mobile rang. It was Hawks, at it again with his unrequested commentary on the operation. Midoriya was gone with a giant leap before Toshinori could complete two sentences. He politely deflected his colleague's nagging as the dust settled anew. Lots of dust, but not a single mark or crack on the asphalt touched by Midoriya's feet. The corners of Toshinori's lips curved upwards. Perfect control.

Very few things in his life had terrified All Might - the unwavering, the unflinching, the indefatigable All Might - as much as the sight of black tendrils sprouting uncontrollably from his student's hand during class training. Those black tendrils that looked so strikingly similar to his nemesis' own Rivets, so much that they had made him fear that All For One somehow, in some wretched, unfathomable way, had manifested on the spot, or even possessed Midoriya himself, and was ready to destroy, stab, maul every single one of the budding heroes right before his eyes. In hindsight, he could only feel shame at the memory of his behaviour during that emergency. He could only stutter vague and panicking warnings during those dreadful minutes, while Aizawa and Vlad had assessed the situation with the proper detachment.

The aftermath of the event had been deeply confusing. A new quirk, inherited from one of the predecessors? The predecessors themselves, now able to interact with Modoriya's mind? Toshinori had found himself at a loss. He was supposed to guide his student to the fullest understanding of his power, but those developments were completely unheard of. He offered the boy his most confident smile and reassurements, for they were what he needed, but privately... he worried. He worried very much. And before he knew it, the Paranormal Liberation war had left his precious successor a heap of broken limbs and regrets.

And then Midoriya had mastered Black Whip. And Float. And Danger Sense. And Smokescreen. All within few months. All with virtually no guidance (except from the several entities dwelling in One For All, probably).

'Unbelievable' didn't even begin to describe the scope of that feat. Toshinori had watched in sheer awe his pupil bounce back from the tragedy with renewed vigor, purpose and skill. He had willingly shouldered responsibilities that no one would have forced even on a professional hero and now here he was, acting as the bait for the most dangerous villain in the world, while also saving innocents in the process. As it turned out, the new wielder of One For All was managing just fine.

Ostensibly, at least.

Twenty-seven hours later, it started raining. The dull sound of the raindrops hitting the car hood and the regular beeping of Midoriya's GPS lulled Toshinori into another bout of nostalgia as he drove along the main street. It happened more and more often lately, maybe he was really starting to get old. The beaming smile of the boy upon receiving his lunchbox had warmed Toshinori's heart, but it had also made him wonder... Had he been as appreciative towards Nighteye in the past? He had never neglected to thank his sidekick for his invaluable support (especially on the bureaucratic side of things), but... Had he really put his whole heart into it? Had he really conveyed the same honest thankfulness he saw in young Midoriya's eyes whenever Toshinori handed him a meal, or checked his equipment, or removed a bystander from a tricky situation? One thing was certain, and that was that he hadn't been nearly as mindful of his sidekick's warnings back then. Maybe, if he had...

Well. No point in dwelling on the past. He had given his apologies, he had said his goodbyes. He'd have to content himself with those. What mattered now was helping Midoriya, in any way he could. His arguable teaching privileges had practically disappeared since Midoriya had started dealing with new, never-before-manifested traits of One For All. Still, competent and timely support was a blessing even for the mightiest of heroes, and Toshinori would be damned if he didn't try his hardest to fill that spot. He'd-

The laptop gave a louder beep, and then silence. The green dot pointing at Midoriya's position disappeared. Toshinori cursed and stepped on the gas. He took notice, for the briefest fraction of a second, of the cylindrical object bouncing towards his car, until it was close enough to realize-

There was a flash, a violent impact, and then nothing.

There was darkness. And pain. His head throbbed horrendously, and he struggled to string together any thoughts. There was liquid trickling down his face, some cold and some warm. He was drenched, and cold, and very nauseous. He was standing vertically, but not by his own will. He felt like a coat hanging from a rack. There were voices, one extremely close, shouting so loudly that it made him whince. He couldn't seem to make out the words. There was a much farther scream-

He recognised it. With a disproportionate effort, he opened his eyes. There it was, the familiar green glow. The boy, sizzling with energy, stood out like a mystic vision in the darkness. He looked furious, and ready to sprint towards him.

But he was waiting. Waiting for an opening, Toshinori realized, an opening that whoever was jerking the collar of his jacket didn't seem to offer. Toshinori didn't feel capable of summoning enough balance or coordination to move, let alone put up a fight, but could he provide a distraction anyway? Maybe. Yes. Yes, he could.

Without thinking twice, he flexed every single muscle in his body, and shouted. He shouted only to add to the surprise effect at first, then he kept going because it really fucking hurt. But it worked. The sudden increase of his body mass threw the mysterious assailant off balance, and he was dropped on the ground. Instantly, a powerful air blast signalled Midoriya's attack, and then all hell broke loose. Feeling as if each of his limbs had caught fire, wrecked by a violent coughing fit, Toshinori could only squirm on the spot as he felt vicious blows landing in his vicinity and on the surrounding buildings, more screams and undefined explosions, until a stronger gust of wind lifted his shrunk form in the air and sent him flying like ragdoll. His back hit something much harder than him, and darkness descended again.

There was darkness. Complete, impenetrable, all-encompassing. He had no pain, no form, no body. Nothingness stretched uninterrupted in all directions. He was nothing and there was nothing, save for the small crowd of entities not farm from him. He listened.

"...coordination. It had to be planned carefully to avoid all the precautions you took. You bear no guilt of carelessness." A quiet voice said. There was barely any inflection to its tone.

"It wasn't enough!" The green voice replied, upset. Unlike the others, this one had a head, though only the back of it was visible. "It could have gone a lot worse! He could have-"

"Pull yourself together, brat!" A rough voice scolded. "This isn't anything worth sobbing about. Start thinking about how not to make it happen again instead. I swear, you should be used to this sort of thing right now..."

"Not everyone has experienced this level of social instability and violence in their lives since such a young age, Banjo. It takes time to adapt." Another voice said. A kind voice. A woman's voice. He... knew that voice...

"But what else can I do?!" The green one interjected. "I'm training as fast as I can, I'm working on strength and control, I can use more quirks... We've teamed up with the three top heroes in the country and it still isn't enough...!"

"You cannot expect this war to go like a carefully planned game of chess. There will be mistakes, accidents and bad luck. There will be more blood spilled, on both sides. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you will start making some real progress."

" Please, let's not-"

"I will NOT accept it! I won't accept that anyone- especially not him-" The green one boomed and turned to point at him. He saw his face and his tear-stained cheeks, he met his big, bright eyes-

His eyes snapped open.

He heard a gasp, steps, then Midoriya's floating head entered his field of vision.

"All Might! Are you okay?"

He blinked. It was still dark but nowhere near... He could see a ceiling now. He tried turning his head to the side, but a powerful throb coursing all over his skull stopped him. He shut his eyes with a groan and brought a hand to his head, finding layers of bandages in the way.

"Ngh... kid... " Toshinori managed. "Where...?"

"The basement in Daina. We brought you here after we captured the villains. Do you remember?"

He remembered something. Driving, and the glint of the granade right outside his windshield... after that, nothing.

He finally managed to open his eyes. The messy, familiar layout of workbench, cot, monitors, assorted devices and cooking appliances of the hideout was a welcome sight that grounded him a little more.

"I thought we should bring you to a hospital, but Hawks was sure you only had a mild concussion." Midoriya continued.

Right. The car had probably protected him from the brunt of the blast. Hawks himself had provided them with that particular vehicle, describing it as 'practically a tank, but faster'. Evidently he wasn't just overselling it.

"Good. Hospitals are the last places we need to be right now." Toshinori knew that their plan of using Midoriya as bait could fail in a million different ways. Primarily because of his pupil's intense desire to protect... well, anyone. His schoolmates were well-guarded, his mother was well-guarded, but the potential victims were countless. All For One could easily take any random hospital in the country as a hostage and demand Midoriya to hand himself in in exchange for the patients' safety, for example. There was really no need to give him ideas and hang a big, red target on a specific one by putting a wounded All Might in it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Midoriya asked. "Hawks will send someone over if you need better treatment-"

"I'm fine, don't worry." Surprisingly fine, all things considered. Now that his head was clearing, Toshinori realized the few pangs he felt here and there were way more manageable that he had any right to hope. No doubt he'd be missing that temporary bliss as soon as the painkillers wore out. "And you?"

"Just a few scratches. Nothing debilitating." Toshinori gave him a good once-over. The kid didn't seem to slouch or hold himself stiffly, which was a huge relief. His expression was somewhat strained though. "You've been out for a while. Do you think you can eat something?"

"Ngh. Not sure I can stomach much at the moment."

"Some tea, at least?" The kid wasn't even trying to hide his concern, bless him.

"How long was I out for, exactly?"

"Seven hours."

Mh, maybe he should gulp down something. "...Tea it is, then." Toshinori conceded with a sigh, and Midoriya moved away to busy himself with the pot.

Toshinori wasn't especially fond of describing the several, thought-provoking ways in which his bodily functions had been messed up by All For One's desperate retaliation, but living in close quarters with Midoriya had outed them despite his best efforts. The boy had seemed especially distraught to hear of his eating habits, for some obscure reason. Lacking a stomach to store and properly digest food, Toshinori had to stick to a rigorous habit of six to eight meals a day, scheduled every two or three hours, paying a certain attention to the size and composition of each portion. Accidentally overworking his intestine with an excessive meal would lead to a range of unpleasant consequences, which went beyond a simple rush to the toilet. On top of that, he also had to actively remember to eat. Turns out that the stomach is the major organ creating the sense of hunger and fullness and, without one, one could easily forget about eating altogether, or overdo it without noticing. And all this, with the addition of some vitamin supplements, had the effect of keeping him just well-fed enough to grant him his haggard scarecrow build.

Sure, all these complications turned what ought to be one of life's pleasures into a bit of chore, but the habit was so ingrained in him by now that he was barely bothered by it all. Plus, it could be a lot worse. At least he wasn't doomed to a lifetime of IVs, as he had first dreaded. Still, Toshinori hadn't failed to notice the hints of sadness in the boy's eyes whenever he glanced at the small amounts of easily digestible food in his dish.

"So, what happened out there?" Toshinori asked, after the silence had stretched long enough for his head to settle down.

"We aren't sure of the details yet. You and I were attacked simultaneously, presumably by All For One's men. They didn't confess anything while I was there, but Endeavor said he'd take care of the interrogation." Midoriya answered as he poured the tea into two small cups.

"Oof, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes."

"He was quite... angry. Not only at the villains. I think he tried to set you on fire while I wasn't looking."

"To cauterize my wound, surely. He's such a gentle, caring soul." He winked at the boy, who finally let a small smile grace his features.

Midoriya helped him sit up on the cot, which Toshinori achieved with some mild dizziness and coughing up just two little drops of blood. A good sign. He took the steaming cup he was offered and blew on it.

"I hate to admit it, but they got the best of me very easily. I'm starting to lose count of how many lives I owe you, my boy."

"I... I'm not sure I was the one who saved you though." Midoriya bit his lip, his gaze falling to the floor. "I think I saw the explosion back when they attacked you. It took us all a while to dispatch of the villains after me and get to the site. The group that targeted you had all the time to... to finish their job before we showed up, but they didn't. I think they were trying to bring you somewhere."

Toshinori frowned. That didn't bode well. A kidnapping attempt? Maybe to use him as leverage in case the frontal attack on Midoriya didn't succeed? It could make sense. The mere notion made Toshinori's blood boil, but that was a possibility they'd have to consider very carefully in the future.

"I see. We'd better lay low for a while until Endeavor can give us a clearer picture of the situation." Toshinori pondered. "Any damage to your equipment? I assume most of mine was unrecoverable."

"Mine is in working condition. Hawks said he'd take care of getting us a new vehicle, and he already passed me a new phone, laptop and some other things to replace what was in the car."

Preparedness, thy name is Hawks, Toshinori thought. He promised himself not to brush him off so quickly the next time he called, or maybe even call him himself to thank him. Maybe. The man was strangely hard to read, he didn't quite invite Toshinori's confidence.

"Good." Toshinori took a long sip, then leaned back against wall with a sigh. "I guess we should take advantage of this forced downtime to recuperate. You've been working yourself pretty thin lately, it's hardly sustainable in the long run."

Midoriya didn't reply. He was still staring at the floor as if the secrets of the universe were contained in the concrete beneath. The tea was growing cold in his cup, forgotten on a nearby table. Toshinori kept staring at him in turn, waiting for the boy to notice his own unresponsiveness and offer an explanation. Eventually he spoke, still avoiding his mentor's eyes.

"All Might..." And that was all he managed before trailing off.

"Yes? Something on your mind?" Toshinori encouraged. The answer was again, not quite immediate.

"I have been thinking, lately... about our plan. About how our groups are organised. If our teams are currently as balanced and efficient as they could be."

"Would you rather be paired up with one of the big three, and have me act as support for the others?" Toshinori asked plainly, squashing the little lurch of unease the suggestion gave him.

"N.. Yes, I... Maybe. That is a possibility." Another pause. Midoriya was getting visibly on edge, his free hand clenched to a fist to his side. "If I am to act as bait, I cannot provide coverage for anyone. Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor are more at liberty to protect-" The boy finally raised his gaze to meet Toshinori's eyes and flinched, almost scared of the sound of his own words.

...Ah, we had finally come to this.

"Don't get me wrong. Please." Suddenly the boy deflated, his back slumped fowards and he rested his elbows on his legs, both his hand supporting the sides of his head. "At the hospital, when you offered to leave UA as well and follow me, I... Y-You have no idea what it means to me, how proud I am to fight alongside you, how much I-"

His voice faltered again. Toshinori waited.

"But... You said yourself, the first time we met, that one has to consider the reality of things. And... the reality of this... is that, right now, there is nothing more dangerous on this planet than being at my side. And... for someone... like you to be so exposed... I can't-"

"Yeah, I'm going to stop you right there." Toshinori butted in, taking another sip of tea. He twirled the cup in his fingers, nonplussed. "Look, kid. Believe me when I say that I am painfully aware that, in terms of combat capability and survivability, I am much more of a liability than an asset to the whole operation-"

"You are not- a liability!" Midoriya almost shouted, and Toshinori could swear that he had corrected himself at the last second to avoid using the word 'weak'. "You coordinate the four of us flawlessly, you take care of my gear, my clothes, my accomodation, my food, you offer me advice and strategy I couldn't come up with on my own, you can hold your ground against low-tier criminals, and evade situations where the odds are too stacked against you. You've been doing all this for months without breaking a sweat! I know exactly how valuable your skills are!"

"Then that makes two of us. I don't see any reason for you to imply that I should leave the team."

"Because... All of this... As valuable as it is, it isn't worth..." Midoriya banged his fists against his thigs, his back hunched over and his head bowed so much that all Toshinori could see was him biting his lip so hard he thought it'd start bleeding, "...your life."

It pained Midoriya to say it. It pained Toshinori to see him so distraught about it. But he had purposefully let the argument get that far, because it was necessary for the boy to confront this thing sooner or later.

"If those villains had had different orders... If we had been slower, or unlucky... You would have died." The boy struggled to continue. "I don't-"

"You don't want to see anyone getting hurt any more. I know."

Toshinori recalled very vividly those days at the hospital. The aftermath. Hectic, nightmarish days for everyone. Relatives, friends, colleagues of the many victims and injured were everywhere, shedding tears of shock and horror behind every corner. Toshinori himself hadn't been able to hold back tears as he had proclaimed his intention to tag along the boy in his crusade against All For One. Rumors through the grapevine said that even Endeavor had been seen weeping in that whirlwind of grief. The only person that Toshinori hadn't seen shed a single tear at any point was Midoriya. That alone should have alerted him of some sudden subversion in the natural order of the universe, but it had taken him some more time to realize the meaning behind that stoicism.

"I share that feeling. Whole-heartedly." Toshinori slowly clenched and unclenched his fist, somberly. "But if all it took to ensure someone's safety was a passionate declaration of intent, the world wouldn't need as many heroes as it does. We both know it, don't we?"

"That's why I'm asking you to-"

"And that's why I'm refusing." Toshinori glared sternly at the boy's hair. "This accident has brought to light a flaw in our patterns of action, and we're lucky it did so without causing any lasting damage. If we need to regroup in a way that grants me less exposure, fine. We can work out the logistics of that later. But if you're trying to convince me to go back and sit tight in UA's offices at whatever you deem a 'safe distance' to be, you can spare your breath. It isn't going to happen."

"But... All Might, please!" Midoriya finally raised his head to look at his teacher, a desperate edge in his eyes. "I wouldn't be left unguarded! Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor can support me, while you... you are quirkless now and- God, think of Nighteye's vision!"

"Is that why you're trying to push me away? Is it really?" Toshinori retorted, with more bite than he intended. "In few months, you have successfully detached yourself from your classmates, most of your teachers, your own mother. And now you're trying to do the same with me. Is it so far-fetched for me to imagine that, if push comes to shove, you'll try to leave the other pro heroes behind too, in some misguided self-sacrifing effort 'not to see anyone hurt again'!?"

Midoriya's flinched as if he'd just been slapped. Admittedly, that had come out more harshly than Toshinori was planning. The man coughed into his fist, seizing the chance to discreetly rein his own feelings in.

"Young Midoriya." He resumed, more gently. "This overpowering sense of responsibility and protection that you are feeling... is exactly what drove me during the six years between my injury and our first meeting. The drive to uphold a Symbol of Peace that would protect everyone, directly or indirectly. The current situation speaks loudly about the results of my efforts."

Toshinori paused, suddenly caught by a deep bitterness. "If I hadn't been so stubborn... if I hadn't rejected the advice and support of the people who cared about me the most... maybe the Symbol of Peace would still exist to this day. Upheld by more than a single bluffer. I have paid for my mistakes, and the worst part is that I wasn't only one. My friends, my loyal sidekick paid for them dearly, way more harshly than I did. The whole country is paying for them."

Toshinori leant forward, suppressing the cough that threatened to rob his breath. He looked his shocked pupil in the eyes, without the barest hint of reservation. "I will not let you make the same mistake."

Midoriya's head bowed again, very slowly, like a toy with dying batteries. His shoulders trembled.

"I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?" He said, shakily.

Toshinori wasn't a fool. He knew that Midoriya had grasped the importance of his words. He also knew that discussing that particular topic with All Might, of all people, was especially difficult for him. The pain of losing a mentor (one that somewhat doubled as a surrogate parental figure too, as it happened) was something Toshinori was intimately acquainted to. He could imagine how great Midoriya's fear had to be, to spark so direct a confrontation.

He knew, last but not least, that his successor always, invariably, reliably chose the best course of action when it was asked of him.

"Do you really want to?" Toshinori asked softly, steadying the boy's quivering shoulder with his hand.

Midoriya tensed even more, hesitated. Then he shook his head negatively.

He had grown so much. Physically and mentally, as a person and as a hero. In just two years, his frame had gotten larger and sturdied, his muscles had toned, his reflexes sharpened, his judgement refined, his courage exploded, his kindness bloomed. He had blossomed into such a remarkable individual that, sometimes, even Toshinori forgot that he was still a sixteen-year old.

That he was, most of all, still Izuku Midoriya.

"You haven't turned on the waterworks in a while, have you? It must be full to bursting in there." Toshinori smiled as he pulled the boy into a one-armed hug. "You shouldn't let the pressure build up so much."

The kid let out a pitiful sob and his face fell on Toshinori's shoulder. It was all it took for him to unravel. He broke into a waterfall of tears, failing to contain a long series of low but heart-wrenching whines. He hugged his mentor back and clung to him tightly, the man's shirt balled up in both his fists. Toshinori didn't let go until Midoriya did, few dry coughs taking care of unloading the traitorous knots that were forming in his own throat.

It lasted as long as it needed to. Eventually the gasps abated, the tears stopped flowing, and the boy's desperate grasp on Toshinori loosened.

"...I-I'm sorry." He managed as he pulled back, still held at arm's length by Toshinori's hand. "I just... You are right. About everything. I just..."

"I know. You've finally experienced All For One's devastating maliciousness firsthand. It's natural that you got so disturbed by it. I was disturbed too, and it was hardly my first time witnessing it." In an unexpected turn of fate, Toshinori had managed not to spill his cup during that whole emotional outburst, and he downed the last of his now iced tea with a single gulp. It didn't feel quite as fortifying as if it had been sake. "But we'll all look into how to protect each other better, and we'll move from there. We'll face what they'll throw at us, in one way or another."

Midoriya nodded. The next Symbol of Peace made for a very sorry sight at the moment, with red, puffy eyes and radiating exhaustion from every pore. Toshinori still preferred seeing him like this than as a coiled wrap of nerves and fear one step away from bursting.

"You sure chose an odd moment to start worrying about my potential demise." Toshinori offered, trying to lighten the mood by ruffling the boy's hair in the most annoying way possible.

"Uh? What do you mean?"

"Aren't you in a semi-permanent conference call with your predecessors these days? The way I see it, the moment I bite the dust in this world, I'll just pop back on my feet-" He tapped Midoriya's forehead repeatedly despite his attempts to squirm away, discovering new heights of annoyance within his reach, " ...right here. Ready to lecture you for the rest of your days, unless you miraculously find another quirkless brat to torture in turn."

"That's- that hardly makes things better!" Midoriya swatted his hand away and blurted out, way too quickly. Toshinori had the strong impression that Midoriya had already considered that fact, and dutifully rejected it. "You aren't supposed to exist as a ghost trapped in my head for my sole benefit! You're supposed to live like anyone else, out here, free to enjoy-"

Oh, good grief. "Yes, fine, I get your point!" Toshinori raised his arms defensively. He deserved that, he knew the risks of trying to joke with his overly sensitive protégé. "I'm just saying that it's a handy safety net for you, at least in terms of... emotional support. I wouldn't look unkindly on the chance to chat with some of my deceased acquaintances for my whole life."

"...I suppose that is a good point." Midoriya took Toshinori's empty teacup and put it on the table next to his own. "If... If it even does last that long..."

"Mh?"

"I..." All of a sudden Midoriya was biting his lip again. He had that absorbed look that signalled the start of a deliriously overanalytical tirade. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"...Yes, you do that a lot, don't you?" Toshinori sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable. Midoriya ignored him and went on with his muttering.

"If the permanence of the conscience of One For All's wielders within the power itself isn't tied to their quirks, it must be due to something else. Something that all users have in common. There are many possibilities, but the first one that comes to mind is... willpower. A shared goal." The boy brought a hand to his chin and frowned. "One For All was born out of the First's desire to stop All For One, and this objective was steadily passed down from master to apprentice until now. It stands to reason that this might be the ultimate purpose of the power itself, to solve the conflict that generated it. And... I wonder what would happen after that. After we defeat All For One... will One For All remain the same? Will the connection among its wielders be lost? Will the quirk cease to exist in its entirety?"

Toshinori blinked. Twice. Where on earth was all this coming from now...?

"Did the predecessors tell you about this?"

"No, they don't know any more than we do about the matter." Midoriya finally re-emerged from his bubble of introspection, and gave Toshinori a sheepish smile in response to his puzzled look. "It's just a hypothesis of mine."

Toshinori rubbed his eyes tiredly. That boy's penchant for overthinking things would lead him to an early grave, he was sure of it, and it was only going to get worse now that he had eight distinct personalities residing in his head, ready to produce a constant stream of new inputs.

"...Let me get this straight. You are now worrying about the possibility that, if I were to die in the near future and become a sentient vestige- don't even try to deny it, I know how your head works-" Toshinori raised a finger menacingly as soon as Midoriya opened his mouth. The boy immediately closed it and grimaced with evident guilt, "...you are worried that, in that case, our connection would be lost after accomplishing this shared goal. Am I correct?"

"...I guess so." Midoriya answered, barely above a whisper.

Leave it to this boy to grow anxious about having to grieve for the same person not once, but twice. Toshinori summoned the last embers of his patience to deal with this like a rational adult.

"Listen. I can't deny that One For All has evolved so much since I passed it to you that I can barely claim any expertise on it at this point." Toshinori started, joining the tips of his fingers. "But you spoke of will and purpose. Of will and purpose, I know something about."

Midoriya instantly forgot his insecurity and leaned towards Toshinori, expectation and curiosity lighting his eyes.

"I cannot speak for most of the predecessors, since I never met them." He continued. "But I can tell you something about me, and I bet the same goes for my master too. I never wielded One For All with the purpose of defeating people. I wielded it with the purpose of helping them."

Toshinori waited for the words to sink in. He could pinpoint the moment they did by the distant look that appeared in the boy's eyes. He bet someone was smiling, inside that green-haired head.

"All For One has always been a disgusting, painful wart in the peaceful world I dreamed to protect. He was never the goal of my efforts, just an obstacle. That's all there is to it." He smiled to Midoriya, who now wore that unabashedly admiring expression that gave Toshinori a mild, inexplicable sense of guilt. "If that isn't enough to quell you doubts, you may remember certain promises I made to you and your mother, promises that would not be fulfilled by just taking down any one villain. I'll have you know that I'm not in the habit of going back on my word easily."

Midoriya nodded, worry slowly disappearing from his features.

"Yes... I see what you mean. " The boy visibly relaxed, and smiled. It was the first real smile he'd shown since Toshinori woke up. Finally. "That makes a lot of sense."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Thank you." The way the boy said those two simple words, the way he wore his enormous heart on his sleeve, the way he had never stopped feeling and showing the deepest gratefulness for whatever tidbit of advice Toshinori managed to scrap together...

Toshinori's head gave a painful throb. Either the painkillers were starting to wear off, or all these waves of teenage emotionality were aggravating his concussion. Both possibilities seemed equally likely. A swift intervention was required.

He karate-chopped Midoriya on the head.

"On the other hand!" He declared over the boy's yelp. "Talk about overconfidence, young man! 'After we defeat All For One'? Way to brush off the most miraculous task we'll ever have to accomplish in both our lives! How about we focus more on how to achieve that feat first, and then we worry about whatever existential crisis that may come our way afterwards?"

"Y-Yes! Of course!" Midoriya jumped on his feet with comical speed, accidentally mimicking a half-formed military salute. "I didn't mean to imply it would be easy! Nor less important than-"

"Undoubtedly. So, first order of things: recuperating. On second thought, I think now I could go for some breakfast. Lunch... Dinner?" Toshinori glanced around the room, failing to locate a clock. "Whatever meal is most suitable for this time of day or night."

"Breakfast." Midoriya confirmed, cheering up again. "Any preferences?"

"Some tamago kake wouldn't go amiss."

"Coming right up!" Midoriya moved to the other side of the room with a spring in his step. Toshinori considered lying down for a few minutes while the rice cooked.

"All Might. One last thing."

Toshinori sighed. Wasn't there always just one last thing?

"I said that I agree with everything you told me. Except one thing." Midoriya continued, from outside of Toshinori's view. His voice was firm. "You are no bluff. You never were. Even when you thought you were doing your job for only three hours a day, or one, or none at all. All the time, you were working just as hard as everyone else, if not more. And no one in their right mind would deny that you are the best thing that happened to Japan in the last forty years. Don't ever forget that."

As he was sliding from sitting to a horizontal position, Toshinori's head gave another, sharper twinge. It was that, and only that, that made his sight go just a little watery as his nape landed on the pillow.

"...Thanks, kid." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and relaxed with a deep sigh. "I'll keep it in mind."

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #deku #all might #toshinori yagi #izuku midoriya

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izumiyagami14 · 3 years

Text

road trip

enlightenmonth // [day 25-28] gift or favor Summary: After a cancelled flight to surprise her boyfriend, Hikari is out of options. That is, until Koushiro offers to drive her. Now he must keep his conflicted feelings about a certain someone all while being in a very confined space for hours with her. What could go wrong?

I might continue this story… idk. Let me know if I should…

Anyways, happy Enlightenmonth again, everyone!This is my seventh prompt for the month, so this concludes my contribution😅 I’m not going to lie, this month was a MILLION times better thanks to the creation of Enlightenmonth (*cough cough* @earlgreymon) ☺️ and the effort from talented writers and artists (I wish I could tag all of you, but there was SO much😭) It was truly amazing to see my oldest ship receive so much love in the span of a month🥺💜💗 because of this, I plan to write more and post them on Fanficition.net. I REALLY hope to see more masterpieces even after Enlightenmonth comes to an end!

The sakura trees swayed in the spring breeze outside the window of the Yagami residence, the decorated branches waving to the two boys in the room. It’s been four years since the reboot, and the DigiDestined are still adjusting to their quickly approaching adult lives.

Koushiro sat at Taichi’s desk, typing on his laptop, while Taichi sat next to him, straddling a chair backwards so he could rest his arms on the back of it.

“Man, I don’t know what to do with my studies, but I have to make a decision real quick,” Taichi explained to his friend.

Koushiro just hummed in response, preoccupied by his work. The typing of the keyboard overwhelmed his mind to where he could barely comprehend what his friend was talking about. “Have you talked to your sister about this? I feel like she’s the one to talk to. She always knows what to say.”

“Nope, not yet. Just you, my friend.”

He glanced up around the room briefly before moving his eyes back to his friend. “Where is she, anyways?”

Taichi looked down at his wrist to check his imaginary watch. “Right about now, she should be on a plane to Shimane. She planned to visit Takeru as a surprise, who is there visiting family.”

Koushiro froze for a second, shifting his gaze from Taichi to his computer keys. “Oh,” he whispered as he continued on his work.

Taichi propped up his head in his hands. “Yeah, I hate to admit it, but I wish I was more like Hikari. She already knew that she wanted to be in education before she could even speak!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

The mention of his sister’s name silenced the discordant ticks for a beat before they picked up again.

“Man, I’m so jealous of her. She already has her life together. She’s been accepted into the education program at her university. She has a job at a daycare to help with her degree. She actually makes time for her family and friends. She even has a boyfriend!”

Koushiro shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the last part. “Taichi, can you change the subje-“

But he continued to ramble on and on. “I mean, granted it’s Yamato’s little brother, but still! She is actually dating someone before me!”

“I would prefer it if you stopped talking about-.” Koushiro tried again, but it did not work.

“She even planned on surprising him at Shimane during break so they could be together! I don’t even want to think about-.”

“Taichi, enough!” Koushiro yelled.

Taichi nearly fell out of his chair and he held up his hands in defense. “Woah, Koushiro! What’s the matter?” He looked at his friend with confusion. He’s never acted like this before.

Koushiro’s face grew as red as his hair and he buried his head in his hands from his sudden outburst. “Oh my goodness. I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. I honestly don’t know what got over me.”

“I’ll say, bud!” Taichi laughed. “That was completely out of the blue. I was only talking about Hikari. I don’t know why you would be so grumpy about her life, let alone her love life-.” Realization hit him like a soccer ball to the face. “Koushiro, do you?-“

His face felt hotter. “Stop,” he pleaded.

“Do you like?” Taichi continued to press his friend.

“Please, no…” Koushiro muttered, folding his arms onto his computer and placed his head down.

“Do you like my sister?” He teased.

Koushiro groaned. Why this? Why now? He asked himself. He planned to take this to his grave. “No, I do not. What on Earth makes you think that I do?” His friend gave him an unamused glare, causing him to groan again. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“How long?”

“As long as I can remember…”

Taichi laid his head on his arms so that he rested in the back of his chair. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Koushiro signed, still typing on his computer. “Because I can’t tell her! It’s going to sound stupid.”

Taichi lifted his head in defense. “Then why are you telling me?”

“Because professionals say it’s better to talk about these things with someone rather than bottling it in,” Koushiro joked, looking up at his friend.

Taichi tilted his head and gave Koushiro an expression that screamed yeah, riiiiight. He decided to continue the joke. “And you chose to talk to me? Her older brother?”

Koushiro just hummed in response and leaned back in his chair. “Even though Hikari is your younger sister, you are still my best friend.”

Taichi didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. “You weren’t planning on telling anyone, were you?”

“No, sir.” Koushiro replied, defeated. He let out another frustrated sigh. “Besides, she is with Takeru. She’s leaving early to go visit him in Shimane as a surprise as we speak! She is so happy with him, and I don’t want to ruin that with my intruding feelings…”

Just as he finished his sentence, the front door of the residence slammed. Slow movement made its way from the front door to the bedroom. At the door frame, stood a girl with a suitcase in each hand and a frown on her face. For what Koushiro and Taichi saw, she looked like she was about to cry.

“Hikari, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you on a plane?” Taichi asked, starting to stand up. Before he could make his way to his sister, she dropped her bags at her feet and trudged over to the bed. She dove head first into the pillow and laid on her stomach, silent. Taichi looked at Koushiro, who only shrugged his shoulders in response.

She turned her head to the side so they could hear what she said next. “My flight was cancelled. There’s no way I can go visit Takeru early now.”

Now it makes sense. Taichi walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Hikari. He started to rub circles on her back to comfort her as he thought of the next thing to say.

“I don’t know what to do, Taichi. I saved up so I could go visit him early. I mean, the airlines refunded me the ticket, so I thought I could rent a car or something to drive there, but I’m not old enough to-“

“And I wouldn’t let you drive by yourself anyway,” Taichi cut in. “It’s a 10 hour drive from here!”

She sighed and sniffled a bit. “It was supposed to be an unforgettable trip. We planned to sightsee, and visit his relatives…”

Taichi sighed. “Hikari, you know I would totally drive you to see him, but you know I have-“

“I know, I know. I don’t want you to drop everything to make me happy. I’ll be fine!” She interrupted. “I can just see him when he returns. We can always plan on another trip-“

That’s when Koushiro raised his hand to quietly intervene. “May I make a proposal?” The two siblings quickly turned their heads over at the boy at the desk. “What if I drove you to Shimane? I am old enough to rent a car and that way you are not traveling by yourself.”

As he spoke, Taichi's eyes widened and then he slowly narrowed them, their prior conversation still present in his head. “Koushiro, that’s a big favor to ask of you…”

Koushiro shook his head and continued to explain. “I actually have a work conference in Hiroshima that I need to attend in a couple days. I could drive you to Shimane, drop you off with Takeru, and pick you up on my way back. That way, we don’t have to travel alone and you can still surprise Takeru.”

Hikari sat up in her bed and looked at Koushiro in disbelief. “You would really do that?”

Her lingering gaze caused his heart to skip a beat. “Of course. You’re my friend, Hikari. I just want you to be happy.”

Frown transformed to a huge smile as she jumped up and hugged the boy in front of her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She is so happy with him, and I don’t want to ruin that with my intruding feelings… The thought repeated in his head when he realized what he just agreed to. “Let me just converse with my family, pack my few remaining bags, call the rental company, and we can get going.”

“Today?” The Yagami siblings replied in unison, one with more excitement, one with more concern.

“Sure. I’ll be right back with my things, okay?” Before Taichi or Koushiro’s own mind could object, he packed up his laptop and walked out of the room and outside.

He closed the front door to the residence behind him and leaned back against it, head tilted up in disbelief. He can’t believe he just did that. “What did I just do?”

#koukari #enlightenment #enlightenmonth #hikari yagami #koushiro izumi

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donttelljim · 2 years

Text

Sleepwalkers

Dragon Age 2 Templar Cullen Rutherford Between lyrium malaise, migraines, insomnia and Meredith, Ser Cullen struggles to function. As he pushes his way through his duties, he can't help but notice the lyrium fog in the other templars around him. Between that and how many Tranquil Meredith has had made, is the Gallows just the dead guarding the dead?

Some Templar/Mage, lyrium/tranquil angst for @chaos-company's Angstpril 2022, Day 11 - Migraine.

I had fun with this, but then, I always enjoy exploring poor Kirkwall Cullen's lyrium-brain. (On AO3 here) ================================= Cullen’s eyes kept drifting from the Knight-Commander’s face, removing themselves from the visual cacophony of disdain and unease to instead choose a more neutral focal point. They rested on the mounted shield and crossed swords behind her desk, making an unthinking study of the Blade of Mercy’s emblem, as though he had not seen the same symbol on near every surface since his late youth. The image was both a comfort and a reprimand, each so familiar that they bypassed any conscious effort, sitting in his stomach as readily as trained ravens return home.

The cadences of the Knight-Commander’s inflexions, the strain of her expressions, the paths of her pacing steps were all markers by which Ser Cullen succeeded, near enough, to follow the meaning of her latest private oration. The words themselves, however, were unable to breach his skull. The templar felt as though the portcullis of his mind was rusted shut, the would-be entrants gathering in their numbers and only placated by his hazarded words of vague agreement. For now, they believed that all was well, but at this quantity, by the time they realised that they risked being sent away, there could be riot. Cullen shook his head, attempting to clear the pressure from his temples and the fog clinging about his eyes, reminding himself to leave the mental images of that simile alone and to focus on his orders for the day. If, indeed, the Commander’s weaving path would travel via his orders as it toured her latest concerns. “Are you in disagreement, Knight-Captain?”, Meredith interrupted her diatribe to demand. Her voice was well-spoken in a manner that had impressed and intimidated him as a newly transferred recruit, won over by the way it leant itself to authority: now, he was most familiar with the extra barb it leant to recrimination. “Not at all, Knight-Commander,” Cullen guessed, professionally. Lately, it was best to agree. Blood magic, conspiracy - the words he had managed to pick out all seemed critical and likely enough, though he would be lying if he claimed to take all of them at face value as he used to. Even he was starting to find the Commander…misguided, of late. Paranoia could cloud even the shrewdest judgement, especially in their line of work.

“Good.” She continued. His gaze again drifted from her face to the shield behind her, catching his reflection in its surface.

He looked tired: eyes pink ringed with purple, skin the yellow side of pale. And yet, apart from the signs of the years, had much had truly changed since his transfer here? The lines sat a little deeper, perhaps, the exhaustion longer dug in, but he had looked just as much a stranger to himself when he first left Ferelden’s shores. In time, a pause came: clearly, he was expected to speak. “Of course, Knight-Commander.” It was usually a safe response. The Knight-Captain patrolled the Gallows courtyard, alert yet only half-seeing. The mages moved about him in their droves, their clusters kept small by the other rotating templars. Large groups of either kind, templar or mage, were forbidden now, following what had transpired under Thrask on the Wounded Coast. Like a dream - one Cullen could play behind his eyes to perfect accuracy, so repeated and well-trodden was the pattern - he watched himself cross paths with his fellow Knights, heard orders being issued by his voice, felt his mouth moving to deliver them. He himself barely took notice. Pieces of his skull were attempting to separate from each other, it felt, floating further apart and putting the rest of his head under strain: in other areas, those same bones wished to overlap, the plates of the earth before a quake. He absently wondered whether his skull could rattle clean from his neck should the quake begin. Around him, amongst the mages, the Tranquil moved mutely through the herd. There were many more of them than there used to be. Cullen watched, blankly, as he observed the lifelessness of their expressions. Cattle herding cattle, he couldn’t help but think, wondering how many of his fellow templars were concealing similar fatigue to him; how many others had sunken, led by sleeplessness and coaxed by the lyrium, into the same malaise. One Tranquil met his eyes as she passed: numbness spoke to near-numbness. Somewhere deep below his layers of packed earth, still trees and absent wind, the Knight felt a memory of grief over the quantity at which the Rite had been issued. Strange, when such a Solution had once appealed. Yet, some of those mages - those who were not Maleficarum like their ironically named leader - some of them, he had felt as he oversaw the Rite, had truly believed in a peace with templars. Had trusted that a truce could be reached. He had seen that belief shatter in their eyes, moments before their eyes grew dull of anything at all. It had never given him pleasure, the Rite, much though it was a mercy and an ease. But in those numbers…Seeing their expressions turn to shards and then slip away - It was a feeling he attempted to keep hold of, but it slid from his hands just as surely as those lights, sinking back down into the peaty marshwaters of his mind. Questions - questions such as ‘In the service of the Order, or of Meredith?’ attempted to utter themselves as they sank, their open mouths inhaling and gulping down the thick waters in their attempts, until their faces slipped at last below the surface, silent. Cullen blinked and turned his emotionless gaze back to the Tranquil. Around him, other templars did the same: each following orders, tired feet following along practised, unquestioned paths. For many, it would be a bland day until tomorrow’s lyrium. For Cullen and the others that he knew of, and many more than he suspected, it would be a shorter but more furtive wait: each covert dose brought a flash, a moment of relief, and then the return back down, that bit deeper than before. Better to be carried down deep, cradled in its arms, than the gasping, painful panic of breaking water for too long. And yet… He remembered when the extra hits had helped the work. Was it helping anymore?

He listened to the throbbing of his pulse against his skin, the Circle’s crowds falling to quiet behind it. Sleepwalkers policing ghosts - deadened soldiers guarding vacant charges. Would it continue this way? Spread further? The notion made a quiet voice deep within him attempt to despair, beating its hands against the glass, a creature trapped under a cup, but the tired templar could not deny the Chantry - it would make everything so much simpler.

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fallingforyou123 · 3 years

Text

You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

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