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anxiousgaypanicking · 8 months

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The Fear Of Falling

Written For The Tss Storytime Big Bang, 2023 :)

Logan is stoic, smart, and spending the summer before college with his grandparents, who’s traveling circus parks in their backyard for those months to rehearse new routines. While Logan is wary of the circus, and everything it encompasses, there’s a certain clown named Remus who goes out of his way to make him crack a smile. With just one summer, the two of them, and three months together, a lot is bound to happen.

Part Three: After The Performance

Masterlist

As people are ushered out of the big top, leaving behind a few wrappers from the food they brought in and the smell of sweat, Logan and his grandma make their way onto the arena stage to meet Grandpa, as he congratulates, encourages, and raves to his performers about the acts they put on.

He’s absolutely beaming with pride, and that same look only amplifies as he turns to his wife and his grandson.

“Hello!” he greets them, before pulling Grandma in for a firm hug and a sweet kiss. She holds him tight. It’s her own silent way of congratulating him.

He keeps a hand around her waist as he turns to Logan, his smile faltering just a bit.

“So,” Grandpa begins, standing up a little straighter.

“So,” Logan echos back to him, raising his chin. “It could use some work.”

Grandpa sighs immediately, noticeably deflating. He still wears a smile, but it’s a lot sadder this time. It’s not unexpected criticism, but it’s still a bit unfortunate.

“There were some parts Logan enjoyed though,” Grandma pipes up though, causing Logan to immediately turn his attention towards her. She gives him a cheeky smile. “Especially regarding that… rather inappropriate clown.”

Grandpa snorts, and then full-on chortles, holding his stomach as his laughter rings in Logan’s ears. Logan feels his face heat in embarrassment.

“It was unexpected!” Logan immediately defends. “He relies on shock humor, rather than the uncanny exaggeration of emotions. And it was more adult than I expected. I figured most clowns would appeal to children.”

“Not that one,” Grandpa responds, thumbing away a tear. “Picked him up down south last year, and he’s been committed to tending to the more mature audience.” Grandpa looks over his shoulder as soft talking fills his ears, coming from the few performers packing up to go rest for the night. “Or… the more immature, depending on your thoughts about dick-jokes.”

“Cyrus!” Grandma exclaims, gently slapping her husband's chest. “Watch your language.”

“Sorry, Cherry,” Grandpa replies, kissing Grandma’s soft cheek. “Sometimes I forget little Logan isn’t an adult yet.”

Logan rolls his eyes at their teasing. He does take this opportunity to slip away though, quietly heading out of the tent and looking around to make sure nobody’s around. Most people have already left, trickling back into their houses and getting ready for bed. The moon illuminates the soft ground, and there’s a cold breeze rippling through the air.

Logan is more than ready to make his way back to his grandparent’s house and go to bed, fully content with this being the only show he’ll go to. And, he got to make his grandpa a little happy before he heads to college. That’s a plus, he supposes.

But as he starts to walk, he suddenly hears a voice shout “wait up!”

He turns, confused, and sees a lean man nearly sprinting towards him. He’s dressed in shorts, sandals, and a tight tee-shirt, showing off too much skin for the chilly night air. There’s some leftover face paint smudged across his cheeks and eyebrows, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Logan finds himself waiting for the man to catch up to him, before his hand is being grabbed and roughly shaken, nearly pulling Logan forward, causing him to stumble.

“Hi! I’m surprised you actually stopped. If I was a murderer or something, you’d be very unlucky.”

“Are you a murderer?”

The man shrugs. “Depends on who you ask. Everyone has rumors surrounding them. Though, if you’re asking me specifically, I’d say no. I do have a killer comedy routine though.” He winks. “Or, at least, you seemed to think so.”

Oh. Logan’s eyes shine in recognition. “You’re the clown that popped the balloon in his mouth.”

The man next to Logan grins wide and proud. “Yup! I’m Remus! And you’re the grandson of Cyrus Berry.”

Logan starts walking, and Remus walks beside him. “Yeah. That’s me. I’m Logan.”

“You don’t live in town, but from what I’ve heard, you don’t visit every summer either. What’s so different about this summer?”

Logan gives Remus a weird look. Not only did he just meet this man, but he seems very intrigued to learn about him.

“I used to come visit every summer,” Logan responds, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “But life got in the way. I have more important things to worry about than seeing my grandparents. They can live without me. But, I go to college this year, so I know I won’t be back until I graduate.” Logan brushes his pants off in order to give his hands something to do. “What about you? Grandpa said he picked you up while traveling last year. Don’t you have a family to go visit this summer?”

Remus smiles again. “Nope!” He walks proudly, running ahead a little bit so that he’s standing in front of Logan, before he begins walking backwards. “My family disowned me. I could never meet their standards like my brother could. Though, being the exact same age, they were always comparing us.”

“A twin?”

“Yeah. Technically.” Remus shrugs, and then spits on the ground. “We weren’t much alike, though. He’s a huge momma’s boy, and I’m very independent. And momma didn’t like that.”

Remus laughs, as if he’s just told a joke, but Logan’s more interested now.

“So, they disowned you?” Logan asks, and upon receiving a fast nod, Logan follows up with “why the circus, then? You know when people talk about ‘running off’ and ‘joining the circus,’ they’re usually using it as an allegory.”

“It was in town,” comes Remus’s nonchalant response. “And I figured it’d be a good opportunity to travel. Meet new people. Participate in a couple come-and-go’s-”

“Gross,” is Logan’s immediate response, shrugging off the inappropriate comment.

Remus just smiles though. “You didn’t seem to think it was gross during the performance. Laughing at a simple dick joke? Really? I didn’t even get the chance to pull out my best material!” Remus slows to walk next to Logan once more, as their feet finally hit the town’s sidewalk. “And you were somber the moment I left.”

Remus mimics Logan’s grumpy expression, which has Logan snorting.

“I wasn’t somber. I was unimpressed. Any of the stuff you guys were doing could easily be watched at home on a computer.”

“That’s true, but some people value the experience of going places. There’s a lot that can be accomplished at home on a computer. Like… going to college, per se?” Remus’s eyes shine with playfulness, but his words only serve to irritate Logan.

“It’s not the same,” Logan responds, brushing Remus off.

Remus rolls his eyes, though he’s still beaming with unabashed cheeriness. “If you say so.”

There’s silence as they walk the empty streets, illuminated only by the porchlights of nearby houses. And it takes a minute for Logan to realize Remus is still at his side, which finally causes Logan to turn to him.

“Why are you still walking with me?” he asks. There’s no annoyance present in his voice, instead just being confused. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“Nope!” comes Remus’s immediate response. “I don’t really have a place to stay. I crash wherever people let me, but otherwise sleep in the couple trailers behind the big top. I’m not the biggest fan of being packed into a small trailer, though, and most people don’t enjoy being stuck in one with me. So, I prefer to just do my own thing. I’ve crashed at Mr. and Mrs. Berry’s house before. Lovely place they’ve got. I’ve also napped in the attic of the Mason’s, the Cherub’s, the Johnson’s, the Dolion’s, the Vyuga’s… I can go on.”

Logan shakes his head. “You don’t have to; you’ve made your point pretty clear. You haven’t answered my first question, though.”

“Well, it’d be rather rude of me to let a pretty damsel walk home all by himself, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m not a damsel,” comes Logan’s only response, but he doesn’t shoo Remus away. Instead, they walk mostly in serenity, with the occasional unintelligible and repetitive noise coming from Remus’s mouth. Little tongue pops or repeating one word over and over, followed by another few minutes of quiet. Logan surprisingly finds he likes the little break in the silence. Remus sounds comfortable. And happy. And content.

Remus stays with him until they’re right before the porch steps. As Logan ascends the stairs, Remus stays behind.

“I’m surprised you’re not following me through the door,” Logan expresses, as his hand hovers over the doorknob. Remus laughs.

“Believe me, the temptation is there,” Remus responds, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “But I’m not so sure that sleeping with the ringmaster’s grandson would be a good idea so soon after meeting him. We have the entire summer, after all. Might as well edge myself a bit.”

“Gross,” Logan states, rolling his eyes. “We have another guest room.”

Remus smiles, but shrugs. “I’ll pass. I feel like wandering a bit tonight. Might go sleep down by the creek.”

“I can’t even begin to describe to you how bad of an idea that is.”

Remus grins wide, and shrugs again. “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” He then takes a step back, and blows Logan a rather flirty kiss. “Have a good night, Mr. Logan Berry.”

Logan recedes into the house.

Inside, he finds the lights dim. Nothing aside from the upstairs light is on, and as he makes his way upstairs, he sneaks a peek into his grandparent’s room, and sees his grandma resting, and his grandpa reading next to a lamp.

“I’m home,” Logan announces, making sure to keep his voice down, but his grandpa looks up and smiles. He slides a bookmark between the pages of his book, and then sets it down on the nightstand, standing up and flicking the lamp off as he quietly moves out of his bedroom.

“Where’ve you been all night?” his grandpa asks, as he guides Logan downstairs. “I expected to see you home by the time we got back.”

“I took a walk around town,” Logan responds, as Grandpa pours them both a cup of milk. “Remus came up to me after the show. He and I talked a bit.”

He accepts a cup from his grandpa, and sits at the table across from him, taking a small sip.

“I knew he made you laugh, but I didn’t expect you to last long in a conversation with him,” Grandpa then comments, as he takes a large gulp of milk on his own. “I know firsthand that he’s a lot. And- and that’s not a bad thing!” Grandpa is quick to laugh and clarify. “But, I also know that sometimes a lot is too much for you, especially when it comes to people.”

“You’re not wrong,” comes Logan’s quiet response, as he swirls his milk around in his cup. “But… there was something different about him. He wasn’t just annoying to be annoying, though I’m quite positive he could be.” Everything he said sounded like it had meaning to him, even if it was useless to everyone else. It was captivating, in such a strange way.

He would have gotten laughed right out of Logan’s high school, and probably laughed out of every college he tried to apply to! But honestly, Logan wasn’t sure if Remus even cared about those two things.

“He told me he sleeps down by the creek.”

Grandpa snorts at Logan’s sudden declaration.

“I’m not surprised.” Grandpa finishes his milk in one fell swig. “When I found him, he had somehow sweet-talked his way into sleeping in the performer’s trailers!” Grandpa laughs huskily, shaking his head at the memory. “Imagine my surprise when I went to wake them up that morning before a big show, only to find they’ve dolled up some random kid in clown makeup!”

Logan adjusts his glasses, curious. “And you just let him stay?”

Grandpa laughs again. “Well, what was I supposed to do? Turn him away? I invited him to watch the show up close, next to your grandma, and he was so entranced the entire time. Sheer glee was all I saw. Giddy feet stomping, happy cheering… and when he came up to me afterwards, falling quite literally on his knees begging to join, I couldn’t say no. By that point, his heart was already made up.”

Logan goes quiet. The only sound surrounding them is the constant buzz of cicadas outside.

“Just… be wary of that one,” Grandpa adds, softly. “He values humor above all else.”

Grandpa then stands, and dumps his cup in the sink, before retreating upstairs, presumably to sleep. Logan’s left alone at the kitchen table, holding his own cup between his hands.

He isn’t able to finish it, and so sets it in the fridge.

As he turns to head back upstairs, his eyes pass a picture framed at the bottom. It’s him, albeit a bit younger, with his Grandpa inside of the big top.

He’s leaning partially against his Grandpa, using his shoulder to support himself. He needed something to keep him balanced, after all, as he was standing on a tightrope.

Although he’s little - about five or six - his feet are pointed and his knees are slightly bent. He’s sure that he didn’t even need his grandpa’s shoulder to stand there. From what he can remember, he was walking across the rope just fine on his own before Grandma insisted they capture the moment.

Anxiety swells in Logan’s stomach, manifesting in an intense urge to throw up. He hurries up the stairs before the milk he just drank comes back up his throat.

Dramatically, he falls into his bed, landing face-first against the mattress. He fights the impulsive urge to scream, and instead bites his tongue as he refuses to let anything he’s feeling fester. He hates the circus, and that’s it. He hates that picture, and that’s it. That’s it. No reason to be feeling as bad as he’s feeling.

No reason at all.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #sanders sides fic #agp fic #tssstorytimesubmission2023 #the fear of falling

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

split

— Shouto becomes victim of a quirk accident. In that he become two people who get along as well as fire and ice do. They clash at every moment, and only seem to agree on one thing: their love for you. Or in which Shouto gets split into two by a quirk that spilts chimeras and in order for peace to be found you find yourself in a threesome with two halves that make the one you love most.

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pairing: split!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, threesome, split!shouto, anal, double penetration, blowjob, rimming, cunnilingus, cursing, degradation, praise

word count: 8,930

a/n: LMAOOOOOO this waas actually fun to write the names I gave them were super easy because I am uncreative. I used an anons rec for shoutos hero name: reisho so that’s what that is. and thank you to my lovely canasian for finding the original drabble I wrote. pls enjoy!

kinktober day 6 main kink: threesome

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“What’s going on?”

It was a series of words that often came out of your mouth because, as a Pro Hero, there were many times where you had no idea what was going on. It usually ranged from asking why Kaminari and Kirishima were giggling and avoiding your gaze when you walked into a room to coming onto an active battle where Bakugou and Midoriya were bloodied and crazed. There was nothing off-limits to those words, as they were, after all, said in complete confusion.

“Where is he?!” you tried again, watching as nineteen different eyes look everywhere but at you.

However, it was without given when you watched your twenty -- wait, was that twenty-one? -- former classmates both stumble into one another as they turn to face you.

“Y/l/n-chan!” Mina squeaked, stepping up from the crowd, trying to cover up the two people in there that you couldn’t quite recognize as your classmates. “How was patrol? I heard that Todoroki-kun left you midway!”

You wished that last comment didn’t make your cheeks burn as intensely as it did.

Today had been one of the rare days that you had gone off on your route with your boyfriend, Todoroki Shouto. Both of you watched the busy streets and whispering between yourself as you avoided the masses, not wanting to get caught up with fan interactions that were rather unneeded. But there had been a large altercation that required Shouto’s expertise. Specifically, the voice at headquarters commanded that you stay on patrol while Shouto would leave. So you had watched as Shouto placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb softly petting your cheek, his smile warm.

“I’ll be back,” he had promised before taking off in a mist of ice and fire.

You continued the rest of your patrol with a rather childish pout on your face, you hadn’t enjoyed being sidelined like this, but you calmly assessed the situation. It probably wasn’t a fight you would be much aid in, and there was never a reason to send more than enough heroes onto a single area. But your route was coming to an end, and Shouto had still yet to reappear. Trying not to overthink it, you frowned while passing a store with TVs out in front.

Staring at the bright, flashing screen, you suddenly felt a sense of panic at the headliner: Chimera Quirk-Wielding Villain Apprehended by Pro Heroes Froppy, Pinky, and Reisho. (slight injuries on the hero team.)

With concern pitting up horribly in your stomach for your friends and boyfriend, you finished your assignment as calmly as you could, before finally getting to rush back to your agency. You had taken to the rooftops to get there as quickly as you could.

Through all that, you found yourself right where you had been in the beginning, staring at Mina, who despite the few scrapes of dirt and soot on your costume, looked normal. Your eyes glanced over at Tsuyu, who, like Mina, was unharmed -- which left Shouto.

“Something strange happened during that battle,” Momo spoke up, her face set with concern, her eyes, although not horrified, was definitely a bit at a loss for an explanation.

“Wha--?”

“The person we fought against could make chimera’s out of people, but the limits of their quirk meant that once they made a chimera, they couldn’t add more to the creation,” Mina explained, her head nodding as she looked from Momo to you. Her fingers were tugging at her pink curls, and you tilted your head.

“Is Shouto still smashed together with someone or something?” you asked, a bit hesitant to see what potentially horrific creation your boyfriend could have turned into. “I’ve seen Shouto show up home after the poop-villain fiasco, I swear I won’t cry if he’s ugly!”

“Well, no, kero,” Tsuyu frowned, her finger pressing to her lower lip as she tilted her head. “Mina-chan and I were a chimera for a bit, and the quirk has a limit when they make a chimera.”

You didn’t like how that was worded.

“Just fucking show her the idiots who threw the match!” Bakugou snapped, his eyebrows furrowed as he shoved the crowd away in the middle, parting them like Moses did the red sea.

Idiots? You thought, your confused expression growing as you looked from Bakugou’s frowning face onto what they had been hiding from you.

And you instantly understood why when you were greeted with two heads. One entirely redheaded, the other entirely white-haired, each with identical faces who looked at you with the same tone to their eyes.

“You see, their quirk can also separate chimera’s, and well… I — we, guess that Todoroki-san is one,” Momo informed you as you stared at opposite replicates of your loving boyfriend. “The villain said they’ve never split a natural-born human chimera before, it had been their first time, so the lasting effects of the quirk are unknown.”

The redheaded Shouto still sported a scar on his face, but he felt completely different. His face was cold, stare distant, and burning with a suppressed, denied fury that you couldn’t recognize on him outside of a battlefield. But even with the cold look encompassing his body and stature like a thick sheet of ice, when he looked at you with his set of two burning turquoise eyes, you knew his feelings for you were still the same.

The white-haired Shouto had no scar, and he looked much closer to the man you knew currently, except maybe a bit more open? His face quipped into a smile, his eyes swimming with mirth, joy, and content with finally seeing you here, all good emotions but emotions you weren’t used to him exposing to the public like this. But even with the warm, loving look burning softly around him, his set of grey eyes shone with feelings you knew were true.

“My boyfriend is split into two?!”

There was something wrong with that sentence, something that carried heat because the moment you said those words, both Shouto’s seemed to freeze next to each other. Icy and fiery glares meeting in an electric firestorm as Deku promptly dragged you out of the room with Momo and Mina. You struggled against Deku’s iron grip, only seeing white-haired Shouto’s jaw drop in the beginnings of a speech while redheaded Shouto glowered at him with all the intensity he could muster.

“Y/l/n-san, we need you to never, ever mention that they’re the same person,” Deku immediately spoke as soon as the door between the hallway and the room where the Shouto’s were closed. “He’s — they’re — not handling that information very well, and are acting rather… immature about who the real ‘Todoroki-kun’ is.”

“They’re not connected by the same mind?!” you spluttered, your own mind feeling like it was split down the middle at the hypothesis that your boyfriend was both of these men, but none of them. “So, it’s like a split personality manifesting completely?”

“We’re a bit sure on how to compare it to something such as dissociative disorder,” Momo spoke calmly, undoubtedly her mind working a mile a millisecond to make sense of the strange predicament you all were in. “He’s been in here for some time now. And from what we’ve managed to question from him, both parts of Todoroki-san remember everything. It seems they differ in just how they felt about it on an emotional basis.”

You blinked once, twice.

“Do you mind giving me an example?”

Goddamn idiot you were.

“Well, I guess the bigger emotional differences were during our high school years,” Midoriya mumbled, his fingers pinching his lower lip in thought. “A good example would be why he challenged me during the sports festival. Redhead Shouto said he did it because he hated Endeavor so much back then he was willing to prove his strength no matter what. White-haired Shouto says it was an overreaction on his own part and that he’s truly sorry.”

You frowned.

“It almost sounds like if Todoroki-san’s quirk had been only one of his parents, and his two halves are insights to the life he would have led if he had only one,” Momo offered a pursed stare. She didn’t seem too sure of her conclusion, but for you, it was enough.

“Honestly, you were the only one I saw both Todoroki-kun’s act the same toward!” Mina exclaimed, her hands grabbing your shoulders as she leaned in close, a sly grin on her face. “It’s like the two of you are destined lovers, no matter how the world is!”

“Mina!” you whined, feeling utterly embarrassed as she snickered loudly, her eye falling into a wink before straightening up.

“Alright, so just a recap: don’t mention which one is the ‘real’ Todoroki,” Mina warned, already moving back into the room.

“What do we call them then?” you whispered, feeling not at all prepared to stare at two, stupid hot versions of your same boyfriend.

“Ah-ha, well,” Midoriya smiled embarrassed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as you all walked back in. “Only Kacchan brought up a nickname so far.”

“YOU STUPID FUCKING RED HALF!” Bakugou’s voice roared the moment the door opened, and immediately, you were pulled back into the mess of the situation. “I’LL MURDER YOUR ASS!”

“Someone was clearly not raised on manners,” came the snide remark from Shouto’s white half, and you watched on in horror as your old male classmates worked together to hold off all three rambunctious boys to keep from fighting.

“LET GO OF ME, SHITTY HAIR! I’LL GIVE THEM BOTH NEW SCARS IF THEY KEEP ACTING LIKE THIS!”

But you stared at the apathetic face on Shouto’s red half, his eyes somehow empty, dull, and angry as he glared at Bakugou.

Red half.

Red.

You looked at Shouto’s white half that was grinning at the challenge, icy frosting off his body akin to the explosions on Bakugou’s fists as he egged him on.

White.

That would be easy enough.

You snorted, before walking forward, grabbing your boyfriend(s) hands in yours, and they quickly turned to look at you. Their gazes turning warm and full, their demeanor utterly different as the raging Bakugou faded into the background.

“So, I’m sure you both know what’s going on at the moment,” you spoke clearly, just loudly enough to be heard over the popping explosions on Bakugou’s palms. “I also know you’re both confident in who you are, but the truth is you both have the same name, so we’re going to need a new thing to call the both of you. Is that okay?”

“Ah, I see,” white-haired Shouto nodded, his hand tightening around yours, his thumb running along the backside of your palm. “You will continue to call me Shouto, and we will call him, the Imposter.”

Wait, what?!

“I’m not the imposter,” redheaded Shouto rolled his eyes, taking the hand he held up to his lips, pressing a gentle, warm kiss to your knuckles — it contrasted chillingly with the cold, aloof tone he continues to have with his white half. “I am, after all, the one with the facial scar. It is the most recognizable feature of me. Clearly, you’re the imposter.”

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered and how your cheeks exploded in heat as both Shouto’s were suddenly kissing your knuckles. They only went further after leaving warm, chilling kisses on your skin. For they pulled you closer by your waist, a physical challenge between the two to claim you. Even though they both were for you.

It was only made worse by the wide-eyed, cheek splitting grins, and spluttering noises made by your old classmates who relished in this rom-com type embarrassment.

“Oh my god, enough!” you squeaked, trying to shove both overpowering men away from you.

“See, you’re being too much,” white-haired Shouto snapped, ripping you from redhead Shouto’s hold.

“Let. Y/n. Go.” redhead Shouto growled, hand exploding with fire, and you wrestled yourself out of white-haired Shouto’s hold to press your palms flat against each of their chests.

“You both better calm down right now, or else I’ll send you off with our friends until you’re back to normal!” you snap, your cheek radiating with explosive heat. With the threat heavy on their minds, redhead Shouto took away his flame, and white-haired Shouto took a less defensive stance. Relieved with their current treaty, you thrust a finger at both halves, looking between your way too amused classmates and your boyfriend(s). “You will be called Red--” you jabbed redheaded Shouto with your finger-- “and you will be White!” you spoke clearly, tapping white-haired Shouto with your other finger.

“Am I understood?”

Silence.

You glared at your boyfriend(s) who were staring down at you with wide eyes and gaping jaws.

“I said, am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” your boyfriend(s) sputtered.

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Highlight of Day One of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Where is Red going to sleep?” White asked as you settled into the, thankfully, large bed the two -- now three -- of you shared. “On the floor?”

The bed had been a present from Endeavor when Shouto had moved into your apartment with you. It was much bigger than anything you owned, and while you hadn’t been fond of the length and stretch of the bed, you indeed were grateful for it now.

“Y/n likes to be warm when she sleeps,” Red duly noted, glaring at White the entire time it took him to crawl onto the right side of the bed. He settled right by you, arm wrapped around your waist, chin grazing against your temple. “You sleep on the floor.”

“You need comfort to stay beautiful, and since you’re eliminated from being that because of the scar on your face, you can sleep on the floor!” White countered while reciprocating the same position Red was doing.

Red’s eyebrow twitched at that before his glare soured and became icy cold, “I have the bigger co--”

“Both of you shut up now!” you snap, the palms of your hands shoving their faces away from one another. You were feeling more like a mother to a pair of troublesome twin toddlers than the girlfriend of your boyfriend(s). “I don’t want to hear it!” you groan as both their jaws dropped to attempt to speak their mind. “If you can’t shut up and sleep, I’ll sleep on the floor!”

“No!”

“Then shut up, love me more, and let’s go to bed!”

…

“You don’t have the bigger cock--”

“Oh my god!”

“Please don’t go, my love, White is an idiot.”

Highlight of Day Two of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Well, this is certainly an interesting thing to be experiencing,” Rei’s gentle voice filled the room as both Red and White sat at her sides. Neither one of them touching her, but their gazes warm and soft for their mother. Rei touched the cheeks of both her son(s) and sighed softly before returning her attention to you. “Has it been hard? I do hope they’ve been behaving themselves.”

You smiled in hopes it would help to hide the grimace on your features as you laughed.

Just this morning, the two of them nearly burned down the kitchen while trying to outperform one another in making you breakfast in bed. It was of ample notice to realize that just one Todoroki Shouto was not to be trusted in the kitchen, but putting two Todoroki Shouto’s in there had caused them to somehow burn water and melt the stove.

The eggs they managed to pull together were burnt yet undercooked and had eggshells in them.

It wasn’t the worst meal you’ve had fun enough.

“They’re doing just fine,” you lie, your smile warm at the woman you would hope to one day become your mother-in-law. “Just a bit odd to deal with two people when I’m so used to one.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. In fact, they initially saw Shouto was to be twins, but he absorbed the other one in the womb,” Rei admitted, a small laugh on her tongue as she politely covered her mouth, her eyes closed in her mirth. “A bit funny how it seems like this could have been the outcome of that life.”

You feel a cold sweat drip on the back of your neck as Red straightens, his eyes darkening as he makes contact with Rei’s arm, and fear thrums through every fiber of your being.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes, Shouto?” Rei asked, her warm grey eyes taking in Red’s gloomy form.

“White called me ugly.”

Highlight of Day Three of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“My love, I’m not feeling too well,” White groaned on the couch when you first arrived home.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, you were still being cleared to work during this time of split Shouto. After a much-needed relatively short time away from home, you had returned after a patrol to a clean apartment living room and Red sitting on the singles armchair, and White sprawled on the couch.

You froze, Shouto hardly ever got sick! His internal temperature was always so in tune to the things around him that no virus, bug, or bacteria ever managed to infect him with sickness. For all five years of knowing him, you had never once seen him sick.

“Oh my god!” you panicked, rushing to remove your coat and shoes as you ran over to the couch to feel his forehead for a temperature.

He was running a bit cold, as he always did on his right side of his body, so you internally freaked about if this was normal or not! Your Shouto always had a specific spot on his forehead that was considered normal, but this was not your normal Shouto.

You were fucked, so wildly fucked.

“Are you okay? What do you need? I can go get you a blanket. I’ll get some soup going! What medicine do you think you need?!”

“There’s…” White trailed off in his exhaustion, his hands rubbing his face in probably his sick delirium. “There’s only one thing that will help…”

“What is it?” you asked, leaning in closer to him so that his flushed lips were centimeters from your ear.

“I need... “ he trailed off, and you leaned in closer, only to be suddenly trapped in his arms and pulled on top of him. “Some one-on-one time with my beautiful girlfriend!”

The scent of burning leather filled the room.

“WHITE PUT IT OUT! PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

“Princess, I’m not feeling good.”

Good fucking grief.

Highlight of Day Four of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot.”

“Cold.”

“Hot!”

“Cold.”

“The store has both!” you sobbed, your boyfriend(s) adopting their possessive hugging on your body while out in public as you had attempted to get them out of the house because you thought that maybe, just maybe, they were feeling stir-crazy.

“But we always share our soba noodles, y/n,” Red looked down at you, tilting your chin so that you could look at him clearly. “I know you love cold soba more.”

“We get it, Ice Princess, daddy hurt your feelings, and now you still hate everything hot! Get over it; y/n always buys hot soba when you’re not around.”

“G-Guys,” you whimper, suddenly feeling drowned out with the clashing of ice and fire personalities around you as the crowd watched on in bemusement. “Please stop.”

They suddenly both turned on you, their eyes narrowed, faces fierce as they both exclaimed at the same time: “Which soba do you like better?!”

You’re too exhausted of them to even scold them like you had used to anymore.

In the end, they tried to settle it via arm wrestling, which resulted in a horrible tie. They had both tried to use their quirks to win, somehow forgetting in the heat of their battle that their quirks not only canceled each other, but their strength was painfully equivalent.

Highlight of Day Five of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

To be frank, you missed kissing Shouto.

With them being the way they were and how horribly chaotic they acted, you knew if you kissed one, it would lead to them both impregnating you and slipping an engagement ring on your pretty ring finger well before you were ready for either one of those things. So instead, you stared at both of their equally perfect lips.

Full, slightly pouty pink lips that were somewhat chapped as they always were due to his quirk elements. Full, soft lips that you had felt pressed to your hands and cheeks for the past five days, and yet you craved it to be pressed against your lips, but that was undoubtedly dangerous.

But you continued to stare at Red’s lips, at White’s lips.

You liked seeing how their teeth exposed themselves when they smiled, or how he had barely formed dimples on his cheeks, the smile lines that had finally formed on his previously smooth face. You liked seeing the way he bit on his lower lip when he held his tongue, or how his tongue seductively swiped his lips when he caught you staring.

Wait—?!

You snapped out of your daze, staring at the suggestive, all too pleased look on White’s face as he leaned in close to you while Red was busy performing his daily workout routine.

“You want to fuck while Not-the-real-Shouto’s busy? He won’t know, I promise.”

You flush.

“No!”

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It was day six of split Shouto when you woke up.

Your eyes stinging with exhaustion as you stared up at the ceiling as bodies of ice and fire sandwiched you between them. They snored softly, breathes deep and full in perfect harmony as they slumbered. You hated Shouto. You hated him so much.

This could have been a fantastic experience in your fantasies. Cloning quirks were a thing, and often you would hear about the sexual endeavors many partook in while in the company of someone with such quirk. It seemed like so much fun. Someone existing solely to be fucked, replicated from someone you already trusted.

It seemed perfect.

But here you were. Living the life of many porn fantasies, but the clones — not clones — hated one another. You couldn’t even so much as breathe next to one of them for too long before the other came to rip you away, annoyed, and ready to reclaim you. They were behaving as if you didn’t already belong to them.

Maybe you could have handled the lack of horny, lusting out of your mind sex if they had simply allowed you to kiss them without starting a war. But they claimed they would rather die than see you kiss someone that wasn’t them (singular them).

So, you were struggling.

The internal struggle only grew when they woke up at the same time. Growing when they both exposed their scarred, perfectly muscled, and toned body. It grew when they pressed their sinful body against yours, and you could only look up at them with eyes like a full moon, heat wet in your panties. You wanted something to happen because watching them go at it again for the fifty-third time today suddenly made your mind snap.

Since they wouldn’t seem to quit fighting, you might as well be fucked while they fought amongst themselves. You were a big girl, you could handle two cocks around your body.

At the moment, you were in the communal kitchen living room area. You sat at the table, trying to enjoy your cup of tea while they stood a few strides away from you… arguing.

“Would you both put those mouths to better use than fighting with each other?!” you finally snapped, your hands tugging at the roots of your hair after you placed down your cup of tea. They had been fighting for the past hour as to whether or not Shouto’s first costume idea was created because of Red or because of White.

Neither one of them claimed responsibility on that one funny enough.

They fell silent immediately. Both their eyes wide, brows furrowed, and jaws gaping like a fish as they tried to separate their conversation from what you just said.

“Better use?” Red stated, his blink slow.

A curling, devious smirk spread on White’s face, “Oh, did my love finally cave to being fucked?”

“I didn’t think you would be into cucking,” Red admitted, his own smirk growing on his face while White frowned and glared at him. “What? It’s obvious it would be you tied up, White. You can’t expect y/n to trust either one of us to sit there, so she’d tie us up. My fire would easily destroy the bonds.”

Ah yes, how could you forget that they’d adopted only one half of the one quirk Shouto possessed. Now while you definitely wouldn’t mind cucking both sides of Shouto at some point, that wasn’t what you were craving at the moment.

“Y/n loves ice trailing down her body, I can definitely satisfy her better!”

“Like I said a few days ago, I have the bigger cock, so shut up and watch us.”

They were going to drive you insane.

Standing up from the table, the chair screeching against the floor as you did so, their attention fell on you. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in your chest as turquoise and grey eyes that you could read like nothing gorged into your form.

You settled between them, feeling dwarfed between their taller, muscled forms. Red was in a white t-shirt and sweats, White in a black shirt and dark jeans. You were unsure as to why you felt so shaken when you pressed your fingers between the valley of their pecs, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You blamed it on the six-day dry-feast the idiots put you in, and the mere thought of finally getting your way was exhilarating.

“This is what’s going to happen,” you say with no room for arguing, your gaze meeting theirs through your eyelashes. “We are all going to fuck. There’s three of us, and I’m the one who wants to be satisfied, so this will be a threesome. Fuck me any way you want, I don’t care, but whoever starts fighting first gets cucked.”

Red is staring at you with his piercing turquoise eyes, White’s gaze dropped to your tracing finger on his chest. But the consensus was the same.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A warm, fluttery smile breached your face, and you nodded.

“Good… now, fuck me.”

They begin almost immediately. Two initially contradicting forces of fire and ice abandoning their internal surge for power to appease and please you. There’s no stopping the shiver and the moan trapped in your throat when two identical sets of hands you knew and craved the touch of finally made contact with your body. Red’s hands were on your breasts, groping and massaging your mounds of flesh while his mouth pressed tantalizing kisses along the curve of your neck, along the length of your clavicle.

White had dropped down, his mouth pressing hot, kisses against the flesh of your thighs and your ass. His fingers pushing the sleeping shorts you still wore, his calloused fingers brushing against your clit.

You openly moaned, hands pressing against both White and Red for some form of support.

“You’re already so wet,” White groans his observation, his finger slicking itself against your wet folds.

You shake, your head nodding in full understanding as you began to rotate your hips against his finger. Of course, you were so wet, you thought, goosebumps flashing against your entire body when Red pinched your nipples through your light tank.

“You try living with two of me and be denied every physical need,” you gasped, your voice pitching the moment Red’s teeth sank into the sweet spot on your neck the same time White’s finger curled within your walls. “Fuck…”

“It’s so cute when you whisper like that,” Red noted, his hands lifting your breast, tongue smoothing over your irritated skin. “I bet you didn’t mind our quirk accident because you wanted something like this.”

Now that was definitely something you couldn’t disagree about.

But with the way your body was so desperately deprived and how there were two sources of knowledge on you. Knowing the perfect sensations on your sensitive parts of your body, you pushed them away.

Grey and turquoise blazed into your skin, but you huffed, grabbing them by the hands and pulling on them.

“I want the bed,” you affirm, your cheeks feeling warm, your eyes keeping on theirs. “We’re fucking on the bed.”

“Of course, my love,” they responded together. And the heat in your body seemed to multiple when you pushed through into the room.

Guiding them into the bedroom, you didn’t release their hands until they were sitting down onto the bed—Red on your right, white on your left.

Their stares are expectant, already clouded with horny, lustful need when you let go of their hands. Before they could ask what was next, you leaned in, opposite hands pressing to each of their crotches, and they both groaned lightly in their chest. You palmed them through their clothes, your cunt throbbing with the fact that you enjoyed watching their hooded, lusting expressions bore into your figure. Biting down onto your lower lip, you stopped a tethering moan from escaping when both their hands grabbed onto your ass.

They fondled the flesh as you continued to palm them, the cock buried within their clothes growing harder and larger with every quick movement of your hand. They both were so hot and dangerously heavy hidden away in the confines of the pants, and you wanted nothing more than to be choking and stuffed full of them both.

But you don’t get your way just yet.

“On the bed,” Red suddenly commands, and you stop a squeak from embarrassingly ripping from your throat. You stumble on the large bed, and both Red and White shift so that there’s enough room for you to be perched between them. Ass on Whites side, face on Red’s, and you feel your body freeze when everything picks up speed.

White’s lips are on the back of your thigh, kissing and nibbling on the sensitive skin while his fingers take up rubbing your cunt again. Your body trembles under his ministrations, hips shifting, and bucking against him as he once again buries his fingers into your blistering core.

But with the moans singing from your lips, you felt transcended. The way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each shift of White’s fingers proving that point, you focused in on Red, who had shoved your breasts over the hem of your shirt. You whimpered loudly when his fingers pinched at both nipples, tugging at the pebbled flesh.

“Such pretty noises,” Red whispered, his nose brushing against yours, and you throbbed with the need to be kissed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “Please give me more, more, please.”

Red inhaled sharply, his eyes blazing like blue fire before finally, he crashed his lips against yours, unable to hold back anymore, and you cried in glorious acceptance. You kissed Red back with everything you had. Your lips slick with your joining, mixing saliva while he continued to press bruising, heated kisses to your mouth. Your hands at one point had attached themselves onto his biceps, and you found your fingernails to be digging through his skin, but Red didn’t care.

He continued to play with your hanging, sore tits, his tongue entering the barricade of your mouth as he kissed you again, and again, and again.

His name spilling from your mouth until you froze, your back tightening the second something more was happening behind you.

White’s finger, covered in the slick of your essence, was probing through your ass all while he continued to finger fuck your cunt.

“Aw, you do like it when my finger goes into your ass!” White chirped, his finger pressing further past your tight rim, sending your mind into a flurry of thoughts and feelings at the sensation of being stretched out, while you collapsed onto the mattress. Red abandoned you. “Your ass always looks so fucking hot when it takes in my finger. It’s like it's sucking me back in whenever I try to pull out. So. Fucking. Hot.”

You could do nothing but choke out White’s name the second the finger curled in your ass and the fingers buried in your cunt came together to press between the thin wall separating the two cavities, and you keened at the feeling.

“White!” you yelled, your eyebrows furrowed in your pleasure, your hips bucking back against his hands. “More! I need more!”

It was at that moment his fingers abandoned your holes, but before you could cry at the loss, Red was back in front of you, naked as the day he was born. But his cock was hard, pressed against his stomach, standing tall and erect for you to suck.

“Come on, angel,” Red spoke, tilting your chin up so that he may press another sizzling kiss to your mouth. “Play with my cock.”

Still, on your knees, your back arched, mouth entirely occupied with Red’s mouth, your hand blindly grabbed his cock and began to jerk him off. You kissed him harshly, thoroughly, not wanting to let him go without exploring and feeling every little thing you could offer while you run your hand up and down his length.

You fully moaned into his mouth when his fingers lightly brushed against your neck, showing how sensitive you are. He runs his hand all the way down to your hips and latches onto your ass cheek. You mewl against him, wondering just why he was doing that when something hot and wet pressed against your cunt.

Breaking off the kiss immediately, you turned around to see White’s face buried into your ass, but his tongue was meeting your cunt with every languid lick.

“Shit!” you curse, your hips bucking and moving to better find White’s tongue against your core. But before you could find your spot, his tongue abandons your cunt and presses back against your tight, tight rim.

Trembling, your eyes roll to the back of your head, all while Red reclaims your lips.

Your hand encompassing his cock began to pick up in speed as White seemed to interchange between tongue fucking your ass and cunt. Whimpering needs only resonated from your mouth into Red’s as you jacked him off sloppily, messily at heightened speeds while you begged for more.

It didn’t take long before they both pulled away from you, and you in your heat daze, teared up as you watched both Red and White step onto the floor, their twin, identical cocks out, leaking with precum that called your name. You didn't need to be told what to do at this point as you stumbled out of bed, falling to your knees right between them.

With Red’s cock in your left hand, you pulled him into your mouth, your right hand expertly, yet blindly jerking White off. You pushed your head as far down as it could go along Red’s cock, your eyes trying to keep on his the entire time.

Relishing in the fact that his cock went unchanged, your tongue swirled around Red’s cock, your head bobbing along his length, and Red smirked down at you, pressing the tears in your eyes away. Pulling away with a string of saliva connecting his head to your lip, you alternated onto White’s cock, your left hand continuing to jerk off Red.

White groaned at the sudden heat, immersing against his length, his hips snapping into your mouth as you took him all the way in. You had been dating Shouto for a few years now. You were definitely capable of taking him in your mouth in one go without trouble. But it just felt so different with one of your hands stroking off Red, and White’s hands grabbing your head while he thrust into you.

Before you could settle on White’s cock, you switched back to Red, who decided to command your every little instruction.

It quickly became a game between Red and White on who could make you choke and moan the loudest as they fucked your mouth and throat mercilessly. You, thankfully, were entirely enjoying it, your soaked pussy rubbing against your tight panties, and you rutted against the fabric trying to relive the building, fast pressure in your core.

“Fuck,” White snarled when Red had you completely choked against his cock. His cock was shoved as far down your throat as it could manage, and he kept you there. Painful tears falling from your eyes while your throat struggled to remain relaxed despite the burning lack of oxygen. “Keep her there, Red. Don’t let her move.”

Red, who was only entranced by you for quite some time, looked up with amusement at his other half.

“What, you like this?” Red asked a taunt hidden in his voice but was buried under so much more throbbing lust. “You like seeing y/n choking against a cock?”

You whimpered against Red, your throat muscles fluttering and flaring along his length-- what was he planning?

“Who wouldn’t want to see y/n like this,” White breathed, and you shook at the nonverbal agreement that passed between the two of them.

You whined at the unknown, finally being released from Red’s cock, and you spluttered and coughed, drool and saliva drenching your chin while you turned towards White, ready to do the same. But you shrieked, the wind knocking out of you when they both picked you up from the floor and tossing you onto the mattress. You bounced when you landed.

Both Red and White quickly moved to remove your clothes until you were naked as well, their eyes glimmering with their treaty, a million ideas undoubtedly pouring through their mind.

White is on you first. He joins you onto the mattress, his lips pressing and languidly moving against yours, and you moan against him.

“We’re going to start fucking you now, baby,” White whispers against your mouth, his thumb running up against your still spit slicked chin. With just his finger alone, he moves you so that you’re on your hands and knees before him, waiting like an obedient pet. Your eyes flutter open, just barely opened so that you could meet his stormy grey eyes while his thumb slips over your bottom lip and into your mouth. “I hope you’re ready to be fucked… Red?” he called, his thumb pressing down on your tongue, instinctively flaring your gag reflex.

“Hm?” Red answered back, and you stilled when something hot and heavy smacked against your ass.

Once, twice.

“Fuck her right.”

Silence.

You whimpered against White’s thumb, your eyes watering while you studied his determined, playful face. There's a chuckle from behind you, and you shiver at the fact that you could practically smell the knowing smirk on his face.

“Obviously.”

And then it happens.

Red slams his cock into your awaiting, wet pussy with a pleased groan while you lurched forward onto White at the mighty snap of Red’s hips. Naturally so, you screamed Red's name, your pussy singing in absolute love over the fact that he’s buried entirely within you, undoubtedly claiming you once again.

Before you could sing your praises for Red, White’s shut you up by replacing his thumb with his cock, and you’re forced silent.

When they worked against each other, they were annoying, irritating, and often horrifying, but together? Well, as Red’s cock shoved more profound and deeper into your womb, and White’s cock conquested your throat, you hummed with the pleasure they brought. Together they were powerful, commanding, and unbreakable, and if the sounds of your wet pussy and choking mouth were to prove it, it was more than just a fact.

You struggled to keep up with Red’s slamming hips, the girth of his cock stretching you out in an all too familiar way, and White driving cock that choked you out every time you moved. You felt dizzy with the thumping, tingling pleasure, your hand that held onto White’s hips clutching his skin, while your other one manipulated and circled your clit.

You wanted to cum. You wanted to so badly.

“You sound so hot choking on his cock,” Red laughed, his hand coming down to spank your jiggling ass with a single, powerful thwack. You bristled at the sensation. “Do more, sweetheart, I know you can do more; we’ve experienced you doing more.”

You garbled as White smirked down at you, your eyes just barely open enough to see the knowing look in his eyes.

“Use that little slut mouth of yours better, baby,” White taunted, his hand coming to pat your hollowed cheeks roughly, quickly, in a few stinging slaps.

This is what you liked, you realized as you pulled away from his length, mouth swallowing his balls with heightened eagerness, your hand rubbing his length as you did so. White moaned your name, his head dropping in his pleasure as you did so.

It must have done something for Red, too, because his fingers dug into the skin on your waist, his powerful thrusts becoming quicker, shorter thrusts that moved you against his cock with rattling power and craving lust. You whimpered against White’s balls and cried out in pleasure-filled pain the moment Red spanked you again, and again, and again.

Your cunt was fluttering, squeezing, and beating in time to your heartbeat. The pleasure within you grew from a light warmth to a blazing heat. You cried for more, your knees and thighs shaking for more.

More friction, more fucking, more of Shouto.

“Turn around, you little cockslut,” White grinned, removing you from his balls. “It’s my turn to fuck your pretty little cunt.”

Whining, you did as you were told, your limbs feeling like lead as Red smoothed back the hair falling on to your face.

Before you were ready, not that you minded, their cocks reclaimed your holes.

It was different this time.

They fucked you differently, you realized when White enjoyed pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back into you. His strokes and powerful thrusts send the coil in your stomach to grow tighter and tighter. But Red, fuck, Red had his fingers in your mouth, choking you with them as he slapped your cheek with his cock, his precum mixed with your slick smearing all over your cheek as he did so.

“I want to make sure that you realize that me putting my cock in your mouth is a blessing,” Red coldly smirked, his eyes blazing with a whole other story. But despite it all, you nodded your head quickly. Altogether agreeing with the claim that you needed to earn his cock in your mouth again.

“I kno thath,” you whine against his fingers, saliva shamelessly dribbling past your lips, your mouth closing to suck on his fingers. “I promith I’ll apprethciate your giff.”

He could try all he wanted, but Red was whipped for you too.

His cock immediately replaced his fingers, slamming to the depths of your throat, all while the wet noises of your throat and choking voices joined the squelching of your cunt. Your eyes rolled in your pleasure, your cunt thrumming with energy as Red’s hands encircled your throat, choking you while he fucked straight down your throat.

“You looked so pretty earlier when you couldn’t breathe,” Red snarled, his cock twitching in your throat the same time White’s cock twitched in your cunt. “I’m just -- fuck do that again -- trying to get you there… faster… Your throat really feels like your fucking pussy at times, shit.”

You whimper at that comparison as you forcefully clench your throat and cunt around both of your boyfriend's cock.

But you vibrate when White’s finger traces your rim, his finger not disappearing into your wrinkled muscle, but stimulating it well past teasing. You pull off Red’s cock with a spluttering cough, your eyes burning, but you find White’s gaze immediately.

“What’s going on, sweetness?” White asked, his eyes glimmering with knowledge of what you want already, but the slick fucker just had to ask.

Too bad you weren’t ashamed of shit around him.

“I want you to fuck my ass,” you moan, your hips slamming back against White’s still shifting cock, your hand clenching one of your asscheeks as you split yourself open for White. “Please fuck my ass.”

“Fuck!” they both seemed to growl, and without so much as a break, White switches from your ass and buries his length slowly into your needy, tight ass.

The pitchy, unstoppable moan from your mouth sends both Red and White into whimpering messes as you collapse onto the mattress, your chest heaving with your heightened stimulus. It was starting to hurt, your lack of orgasm, you just needed a bit more done to cum, and you wanted to.

“Where’s my dick?” White finally growls at you as he bottoms out entirely within you. You tremble at the question, body shaking with every stroke of his cock he makes afterward. “Where is it?”

“I-In my ass!” you wail, your ass clenching around him, trying to make him feel this heated pleasure as strongly as you were. “It’s in m-my ass!”

“Do you love my cock in your ass?” White snarls, his hands gripping your waist and slamming you back onto him, your ass squeezing with the sensation. You can’t speak; your mind is overloaded with feeling and emotion. “Why do I even bother? I know you love my cock in your ass.”

Red comes back into the equation, his hands grabbing your jaw and pressing your mouth against his into a searing kiss. You can hardly kiss him back, your mouth pathetically hanging open as he kisses your teeth, mouth, tongue. So, it shouldn’t shock you that in your near blissful blackout, Red hands your limp arms to White, who holds onto them.

His grasp and hold on your arms elevates you slightly off the bed, your back arched, and breasts exposed as he begins to jackhammer into your ass. You want to scream, you want to shudder and cry your sensations to the world, but Red interrupts once more by pressing his swollen, purpling head into your mouth, silencing you with gags and chokes while they both use you.

They both drive into you with ferocity and power, your body nearly limp and twitching with your ever still denied orgasm that refuses to back down, and the way the lack of oxygen makes you spin as Red’s balls clash against your throat in quick, succinct, patterns.

“Sit down, White,” Red snaps at White, and White, who was ever so entranced at how your ass was swallowing his cock, dumbly nods. “Y/n is about to cum, we need to make sure she cums correctly.”

You whine against Red’s cock, unsure if you heard him correctly when White drops your arms. But instead of falling forward as you thought you would, his relaxed arms wrapped around your waist tightly, bringing you down with him.

Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest. And you moaned at the sensation this angle brought in terms of depth and stretch. Your mouth, freed from Red’s cock, opened in a loud, scratchy moan, undoubtedly raspy from the abuse it went through from the vigorous face fucking.

“R-Red!” you cried, your legs shaking when White hooked his arms under your knees and spreading them out, exposing your wet, slick core to Red, who was merely watching. You shifted pathetically, wanting to have both of them on you, not just one. “Red, please!”

But, White’s hips began to thrust upward, resuming his fucking of your asshole, and you howled in pleasure as he breathed heavily, gasping in your right ear. But as your legs trembled, unsure if White would be able to keep your legs in such position, Red pressed on top of you, his weight keeping your legs spread, and his cock quickly slamming within your cunt.

You had one hand buried in White’s hair, the other slipping behind Red’s back when he pressed onto you. The second their cocks rubbed against each other through the oh so thin wall between your ass and your cunt, you screeched. The hand in White’s hair tugging at his roots harshly, and the hand on Red’s back drawing bloody mountains on his skin.

But this didn’t stop them, the slight pain you gave them doing nothing but making them growl in your ear, making your eyes cross in your oblivion while they continued to fuck you.

Sandwiched between them, your breasts crushed by Red’s chest, and your back buried into White’s chest, White let go of one of your legs that immediately latched around Red’s waist. Your eyes crossed, rolling to the back of your head, your mouth agape, but no noise coming out as every massive, hard thrust sent your soul into a new dimension. White’s hand sneaking between Red’s drilling hips and your cunt to pinch and pull at your clit as you shook like a leaf in a windstorm. You came without realizing it, your walls clenching like a vice against Red’s cock, and your ass clenching around White’s in tandem to your orgasm. Both of them moaning against your salty sweat skin, but neither one of them stopped.

Faster and faster, they thrust into you, gaining such speed and power that you felt akin to a ragdoll as they fucked you. They praised you for taking them both at the same time, senseless names, and wordless praise as you took them without a single wince of pain. You were theirs, they claimed, and they were yours.

The sounds of their cock drilling into the wet caverns of your cunt and ass, the sticking shivering sound of their balls smacking your ass and cunt.

It was so much, growing to be more and more, until your orgasm was once again growing as you attempted to shift your weak, still trembling hips up and down their length, wanton gasps shrill on your tongue. Your body begging for more.

“Gonna cum,” they whispered together, his deep, raspy voice filling both of your ears, and you wailed as your own orgasm tipped once again.

“Cum in me, please cum in me!” you begged with everything you had.

And with your pleading heavy in the air, they came with you. You moaned at the feeling of the hot, sticky thick ropes of cum filling up both your holes, the cocks spasming uncontrollably within you as their hips continued to ride out their orgasms. Your chest heaves as their snapping hips become rolling thrusts until finally, they stop.

All three of you still joined, all three of you sweaty and tired.

When you pass out, you can barely hear them saying goodbye.

…

You wake up, your body sore and bruised around midnight.

You groan, stretching out your neck as you realize that there is no body on top of you or beneath you as that was definitely how you all had fallen asleep a few hours ago. Panic filled you when the bed was empty, and you rushed to your feet, cursing when your knees buckled out from under your weight.

Crashing to the floor, you groaned as you lay there.

“What are you doing on the floor?” an all too familiar voice asked you, and you looked up to see if it was Red or White.

You blinked when instead the once two distinctive heads blurred into one, and you stared at your finally normal boyfriend.

“S-Shouto!” you cried, your body weakly pressing off the floor, your arms stretching to you.

Shouto smiled warmly, softly, the perfect in-between of the facial expressions Red and White would give you.

“I’m back, sorry for scaring you like that,” he whispered as he joined you on the floor, letting your arms wrap him into a firm hug, not wanting to let go as you pathetically began to cry.

The two of you lay naked together on the floor, his soft apologies gathering in your ear as you held him tightly, having missed him entirely.

“Do you remember?” you eventually asked long after Shouto managed to bring you back into the bed. You lay curled into his side, your fingers tracing the marks on his body that you had left on both Red and White. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes… and I remember how it all felt too.”

“Ew… perv…”

“Try that again? Ms. ‘I-want-your-cock-in-my-ass’.”

“SHOUTO!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @i-love-superhero

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

“No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

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marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Text

just can’t get enough

pairing: fwb!tom holland x reader

summary: you and tom have been doing this friends with benefits thing for a while now, repressing your feelings, playing this twisted, toxic, jealousy fueled game. but when will you both just accept the truth and be honest with each other?

request: tom tying you up and edging you because you were flirting with other guys and then after he make you come until you can't take it anymore–– by anonymous

word count: 10.3k

warnings: smut, spanking, overstimulation

notes: i got the idea to make this a friends with benefits story then i started writing this and two sentences in, i knew i wanted to make it a full fic dfhskjh + so there’s more than just smut in this + the title is inspired by the song by the black eyes peas

You and Tom weren’t exclusive, you weren’t even really together. But that doesn’t mean you guys didn’t get jealous. The both of you got really jealous. You liked bringing it out of each other––it was the only emotion you weren’t afraid to show to each other.

Your relationship, or lack thereof, was complicated and most likely the textbook definition of toxic and immature. You and Tom were definitely into each other, in a loving type way, you just didn’t know the other felt the same. Typical. Even though you would ask each other to stay over after hooking up. Even though you would hold each other after every night you spent together. Even though you looked at each other as if you were the other’s world. You had no idea.

Part of you wanted to deny your feelings. This was Tom. He could have anyone he wanted, it wasn’t safe to get attached. Your feelings for him were borderline scary because of how strong they were––and you weren’t even sure he felt the same way about you which only added more issues into the mix. He thought the same things about you, but you of course, didn’t know that.

So your go-to response to each other was to deny, deny, deny. Even though it hurt you. It was safer.

Although you didn’t show each other your true feelings, you liked to get a rise out of each other. And you’d like to say it’s because of the sex it leads to––but deep down, you know that’s not true. You like to feel wanted the way that you want him. You like to see him angry on your behalf, to see him upset because of the way some other guy is looking at you, kissing you, holding you. Just like he loves to see you annoyed every time he has a girl attached to his hip at a party, her teeth leaving marks on his neck the way you like to, the way only you should be able to.

––❊––

The music was blaring through the speakers when you walked in with your friend Mia, the both of you were ready to get fucked up and have fun. You quickly made your way to the kitchen to get some drinks, eagerly sipping from your red solo cups as you started to sway lightly to the music. The house was packed, sweaty, drunk bodies everywhere, shouting and dancing on each other. The couches were filled with people, passed out and making out, either or.

Just as you finished your cup, you felt a pair of eyes practically burning through your body. You turned and immediately caught his eyes, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face as he barely listened to Harrison and Harry having what seemed to be an intense conversation––but knowing them it was probably just banter.

You and Tom were friends, since it is in the title of what you guys supposedly are––friends with benefits. But were the benefits supposed to come with mixed feelings and overwhelming amounts of repressed emotions?––So far, that’s unclear. But you and Tom and Harrison and the whole bunch were all friends. You and Tom were always a little bit closer than you were with the others, but not by an obscene amount. This whole arrangement between the two of you had started by accident, basically. You slept together one night after a party, you were both only a little tipsy so it wasn’t a mistake––and then again after he spent the night at your place for one of your usual sleepovers, and then it just kept happening.

But along with this intimate cycle came this push and pull you and Tom would do with each other. It seemed that every time you got closer, you would end up taking a thousand steps back away from each other afterwards. It was tiring, but you never let it show.

You saw Tom walking towards you, a glint in his eyes. But right when he was about ten feet away from you and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, he swerved to the side, his eyes lingering on you while he talked to some other girl. You felt your heart drop to your stomach but you swallowed and picked it right back up, not letting his antics get to you. This was what happened every time. It was a game. But neither of you seemed to ever win.

You filled your cup again with something a little stronger and gulped it down, wincing as it burned it’s way down your throat.

“You okay?” Mia asked, looking at you slightly concerned. “That was a pretty aggressive swallow.” She joked.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.” You turned to her and plastered a smile on your face, ignoring the stares of the brunet who was only a few feet away from you, a blonde girl’s hand on his shoulder, sliding it’s way up to his neck. “Let’s dance.”

You marched your way into the scattered group of people in the living room, finding a nice spot for you and your friend. You easily got comfortable, having danced with Mia many times before. She stepped behind you, swaying as you grinded on her, losing yourself in the music. Soon you were sweaty just like the rest of the people in this party and you could feel Tom sending glances your way every now and then, despite the girl trying to climb him. You were dancing seductively but freely, only barely paying attention to the other people in the room. Sure, you were hoping that Tom was watching, but you were also dancing for yourself. You just wanted to have fun.

You managed to dance for about two songs until someone came up to you. He was attractive, a little taller than Tom, dark brown hair, and what seemed to be hazel eyes in the dark lighting of the room. He seemed nice enough. He approached you with a sincere smile on his face. “I don’t mean to bother you. I just couldn’t help but notice you and I’ve been watching you for a bit––in a totally non-creepy way.” He prefaced, making you laugh. He was cute. “Do you wanna dance, maybe?” He held his hand out. “If not, I totally understand.”

You paused for a moment, looking at him. You weren’t going to mess around with someone if they seemed like a total dick––but he seemed genuine. You turned your head to check with Mia to find that she was already walking off with some girl. She gave you a thumbs up and a wink and you laughed, looking back at the boy.

“Okay,” you smiled. “Let’s dance.”

He smiled and you took his hand and pulled him behind you, continuing the dance you were doing before with Mia, grinding on him lightly. He placed his hands on your waist, his fingertips digging into you softly. This next song was more sensual and you couldn’t help but feel yourself a little bit. You knew you looked good. You turned your head over your shoulder to get the boy’s attention. “I should probably know your name since we skipped the formalities and went straight to third base.”

He laughed, his hands still on your waist. “Liam. And you?”

“Y/N.” You lifted one of his hands and shook it, making him chuckle and step closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You’re cute.”

You smiled, “I know. So are you.” You took his hands and brought them up to your breasts, making him squeeze them just as you looked straight ahead and made eye contact with Tom. His jaw was clenched as he squeezed the girl’s ass, her lips marking him up. You smirked and tipped your head back, biting your lip. You could feel yourself getting turned on, from the dancing, from Liam, from Tom.

He looked mad and it was only spurring you on even more. He practically snarled before grabbing the girl’s hair and pulling her head back. You could see her moan even from several feet away. He looked at you as he licked along her bare neck, his eyes teasing and taunting you. He knew you would rather it was him standing behind you, holding you, feeling you-–just like you knew he would rather you be the one moaning in his ear. He bit the blonde’s neck and grabbed her ass roughly, pulling her into him as he marked her up.

You were in a room full of people, but when you looked at each other, it felt as though the whole room went dark, a spotlight on the two of you, your shadows behind you hiding all your hidden truths about how you felt for one another. The both of you were just waiting to see who would snap first. Last time it was you, and the time before that it was him. You were determined for it not to be you this time.

You brought a hand up and slid it along Liam’s neck, making your way to his hair before tugging it softly and bringing him down to kiss your neck. You tilted your head and he eagerly took the hint, kissing and sucking softly. His touch was more gentle and more hesitant than Tom’s, you couldn’t help but compare the two––not when Tom was staring you down.

You turned your head and pulled Liam up, looking at his lips then back up to his eyes, grinning when you saw his gaze was focused on your mouth. You pulled him close and crashed your lips together, leading the kiss. It was bold for a first kiss, and you hoped he didn’t mind, but by the way he was grabbing you and pressing into you, you figured he was fine with it.

By the time the song was over, your mind was far from Tom. You were facing Liam, your hands around his neck as he grabbed your thigh, pressing himself into you as you made out. When he pulled away from you, you looked up, confused as to why he stopped. You saw another boy talking to him. He let your leg down gently and you let your hands slip down to his chest.

“We gotta go man, the uber’s here. We said we’d be back by…” he checked his phone. “Two hours ago.”

“Shit, alright.” Liam looked at you then back to his friend, “I’ll meet you outside.” He turned to you, apologetic. “Looks like our time is up.”

You smiled a little sadly and let your hands fall to your sides. Sure, he wasn’t Tom. But he was alright, you liked him as a person. “Seems like it.”

He sighed, seemingly thinking about something. After a moment he spoke up. “Can I get your number?”

You looked up at him. “You know what? Sure.” He smiled and handed you his phone. After putting your information in, you handed him back his phone.

He held it up. “I will be sure to use this.” You smiled and he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek before leaning to whisper in your ear. “See you soon hopefully, Y/N.”

He walked away, still facing you and you laughed when he bumped into someone, almost falling and looking back at you, embarrassed. He waved and was soon on his way. You found yourself smiling absentmindedly at the door he’d just exited and were soon snapped out of your daze when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Your date ditch you?”

You turned to face him but your smile soon dropped when you noticed he wasn’t alone. The girl was still on his arm, smiling up at him, clearly wanting all of his attention.

“No.” You said as a matter of factly. “I actually got his number.” You couldn’t help but smile when you noticed his eye twitch. “He just had to go home or something.”

“Hmm that’s a shame.” He licked his lips, shamelessly checking you out.

You easily forgot where you were with the way he was looking at you until a voice pierced through your bubble.

“Can we go find a room? Please Tommy?”

You noticed Tom wince and look over at you when he heard the nickname and you couldn’t help but grimace. That was your name for him. You were the only one who called him that.

He swallowed awkwardly and turned to her. “Babe.” He lowered his head to look at her, talking to her like a child and you scoffed. “You’re this close to being plastered. You need to find your friends and go home.”

She pouted like a child throwing a tantrum. “But you said you––were gonna fuck me.”

Your brows raised and he looked at her, confused. “What? No I didn��t––”

She nodded her head, “Uh huh, you said–––” She mimicked a posh british accent. “M’gonna fuck you so hard, love.”

He cursed silently when he realized he’d said that out loud when he was watching you grind on that boy. “That––That wasn’t,” he looked over at you and you smirked, crossing your arms. “You were just hearing things.” He spotted one of the girls she came with and pushed her towards her. “There you go, run off now.”

You laughed but it quickly died off when he turned back to you, his eyes dark. You bit your lip and his hand came up to hold your jaw, his thumb running over your lips. You parted your lips and took his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him as you would his cock and he groaned, “Fuck, love.” You bobbed your head and popped off of him, biting the tip of his finger gently and winking at him.

He slid his hand down to grasp your neck and tilted your head up, leaning in closer to you, his lips barely grazing yours. “My place or yours?”

You had a feeling Mia would be coming home tonight with that girl. And the girls she brought home were never quiet, not with her. “Yours.”

He nodded and took your hand in his, pulling out his phone as you both walked out of the house. “Uber should be here in two minutes.”

You raised a brow and he could practically hear you watching him quizzically. He looked up at you and you asked, “Was that uber for the blonde?”

He rolled his eyes. “Called it as soon as I saw that bloke leave.”

You smirked. “How ambitious of you.”

He stepped closer to you, “Love don’t act like you don’t say yes to me every time. I always have you begging for my cock and we both know it.”

Your jaw dropped but before you could even think of a response, he walked forward, pulling you along. “Let’s go.”

When you both got settled in the car, you greeted the driver and Tom subtly pulled you closer to him. He placed one of your legs over his, his hand rubbing along the inside of it teasingly soft as he made small talk with the driver, because, ever the charmer, he had to talk to everyone.

You looked out the window, tuning out their conversation as you focused on the lights outside as the car drove by. You were honestly so out of it, you almost jolted when you felt Tom’s hand slide under your skirt to graze your panties.

You turned to him in shock, and he simply smiled, still talking to the driver. Were they talking about golf? You grabbed his hand and he turned his head, looking at you with a look that said don’t test me. You let him go and he rubbed you through the fabric, pleased to see how wet you were. But when he remembered what you’d been doing all night, his face quickly formed a grimace.

“Who’s this for, baby?” he licked his lips, whispering to you as the driver went on. “Me? Or that div you were grinding on for show? Hm?”

He was jealous. Good.

You shrugged, enjoying the dark look that overtook his features. “What if I said both?”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. “Then I’d say that’s the wrong fucking answer, love.”

You shivered from the tone of his voice and when he pulled away, the smirk on his face was anything but sweet. He slipped his hands into your panties, audibly gasping to himself when he felt how wet you really were. He wasted no time, rubbing your wetness over your clit and you gasped, letting out a whine louder than you would have hoped to. Luckily he spoke over you, but he pinched the bundle of nerves, silently scolding you and you whimpered quietly, leaning into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed his cheek to your forehead, making it seem as though you were simply cuddling in the backseat. If you weren’t distracted, you would have thought about how nice it felt to be in his arms like this, but then again, you had other things on your mind.

He rolled his fingers over your clit, kissing your forehead when you let out a shaky breath. He slipped his fingers inside of you and you arched into his touch, rolling your hips to fuck his hand. “Such a needy little slut.” He whispered to you, only making you roll your hips harder. He let out a small fuck and tried his best to focus on his conversation with the lovely man who was driving you both home, but the way you were breathing heavily into his neck as you grinded onto his fingers was making it hard for him to even breathe properly.

He sped his hands up as best he could in this awkward and compromising position, pressing his thumb down to your clit, making you sigh as you bit into his neck, quickly approaching your high.

“You gonna cum all over my hand, baby?” He whispered into your hair. You nodded desperately, but your heart dropped when he chuckled. “Funny how I didn’t give you permission to.” You lifted your head and looked up at him, begging him not stop to but he simply stared you down and pulled his hand away from you and out of your panties, making you almost buck forward from the loss of stimulation.

Your eyes were wide and hopeful and he simply kissed your cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth to suck on his fingers. Luckily for him, his conversation with the driver had died off gradually, so he was free to tease you as much as he wanted. “Fucking delicious.” He licked his lips, “You want a taste?” You nodded, already leaning into him, but he brought a hand up to your hair and tugged your head backwards, exposing your neck. “That’s too fucking bad. You don’t deserve to taste my pussy yet.” He leaned forward and kissed your neck possessively, somehow picking the spots that were already sensitive. You soon realized he was covering the marks that Liam had made and making them his own.

He spent a good while marking you up, only pulling away when the car came to a stop. Realizing you’d made it to his place, you both thanked the driver and got out, quickly making your way into the flat.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were stripped naked, Tom on top of you as he kissed you possessively as if someone were watching. His tongue was tasting yours, sucking and licking it’s way into your mouth, making you lose your breath. He pulled away and grinned when you whined, helplessly trying to pull him back, biting your lip sensually.

He got off of the bed and pulled out the box from underneath and your breath hitched, knowing exactly what was in there from all the times you’d spent over at his place. He pulled out the padded handcuffs and the trusty vibrator he’d used on you and watched you use many times, setting them on the bed as he closed the box and shoved it back to it’s spot.

He looked at you steadily, “You up for this?” When you nodded he smiled. “That’s my girl.” Though you knew he most likely meant it sexually, you couldn’t help how flustered it made you feel. And was it just your mind playing tricks on you or did it seem more sincere when he said it this time?

You put your hands in front of you and he put on the restraints, raising your hands above your head, attaching the cuffs to the bedframe and settling down between your thighs. He ran his hands up and down your torso, his fingers lightly grazing your nipples and your breasts, down your stomach and then back up again, making you squirm in anticipation.

He pressed a lasting wet kiss to your lips and trailed his lips down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his fingers tugged and teased the other. Your back arched under his touch but he was quick to pin you back down, smiling as he continued to tease you.

He slid further down the bed, grabbing your breasts then spreading your thighs wider as he settled between them, finally seeing the mess he’d helped make. Without saying a word, he watched the way your walls clenched around nothing, clearly aching to be filled. He spread you open and buried himself in you, your moans and gasps only spurring him on even more. He could tell you were still sensitive from earlier, your pussy practically pulsing under his tongue.

He licked through your folds, sliding his tongue in and out of you teasingly as he properly made out with your pussy, moaning and groaning into you, enjoying himself in the pleasure he was giving you, as he thrusted his hips into the bed absentmindedly. It wasn’t long before your hips started bucking into his face and he had to press them down with his hands.

Your wrists strained against the restraints as you buried your face into your arm, your brows furrowed, your lip caught between your teeth.

“So close, Tom.”

He hummed and sucked your clit harshly, waiting until whines started spilling from your lips, your tell that you were about to tip over the edge, to pull away completely.

You let out a broken no and looked down at him, a pout on your face.

“That’s what you get for teasing me all night.” Yeah, he was being hypocritical, but as we established before––toxic. “Grinding up on that idiot right in front of me.”

You lifted your head to try and look at him properly. “His name is Liam.”

Based on the look on his face from your response you could tell––that was the wrong answer.

“You see darling,” He thrusted his fingers into you abruptly, making you drop your head back and moan loudly in surprise. “Look at me.” His voice was sharp and you lifted your head immediately, your walls clenching around him from the tone of his voice. “I don’t give a fuck what his name is. All I know is that I’m going to have you screaming my name until it’s the only bloody one you know.” Your mouth was open as you looked at him, clearly turned on and in utter shock. “Got it?” You nodded almost mindlessly and he clenched his jaw, taking his fingers out to slap your pussy, making you whine and buck your hips. “Got it?”

“Yes, Tommy.”

“Good.” He slid his fingers back into you and leaned forward to suck on your clit. “Now moan for me like a good little slut.”

He put his mouth back on you, licking and slurping you up like you were his last meal, pulling a gasp from you. One of his hands was holding your hips down, fingers splayed out across your abdomen, the other thrusting into your wet opening, while his mouth lapped and sucked your clit.

You felt like you could barely breathe or even process anything but his touch as he pleased you. He edged you three more times, each time, your whines becoming higher pitched, longer and breathier. Your whole body felt like it was floating, every time you were dragged away from the edge before you could tip over it, it felt as though you were being pulled down from the air, roughly, just for the cycle to restart all over again.

Tom licked his lips as he watched you, your body completely spent as you lied there, panting, desperate to cum. He swiped his fingers through your folds before bringing them up to your lips. “Think you’ve earned it.” You opened up eagerly and his eyes were hypnotized as he watched you, his lips parted. “How’s my pussy taste, darling, hm?”

Your eyes fluttered shut from his words and you moaned around him, making him smirk. He pulled his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him and sucking him eagerly. He took his fingers out of your mouth and passed them over your lips, smearing your spit over them.

“Such a messy little thing, aren’t you? All for me.”

You nodded, your throat croaky. “Only you.”

He hummed. “You wanna cum now baby?”

You looked down at him, your eyes pleading. “Please Tommy. Wanna cum for you.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. You nodded as fast as you could, tired from all the edging. “Okay love. You can cum.”

He wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking just the way you liked as his fingers pressed against that special spot inside you. Your body lurched forward as best it could, your mouth dropping open as your eyes rolled back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck––”

Tom’s eyes were focused on your body, one hand coming up to play with your nipples and squeeze your breasts making you moan loudly as your body convulsed under him. “That’s it. Let go for me, darling.” He kept sucking on your clit and thrusting his fingers into you as you came, your body tense as your breaths came out short and hard.

“Oh my god––” You gasped when he didn’t stop, his lips and his fingers still going after you reached your high, going even faster than before. He was humming into you, his movements frantic but calculated as he pushed you further. Your eyes rolled back as you came for the second time, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

When he sat up on his knees, you thought he was finally done, but you were sadly mistaken. He simply got into a more comfortable position, licking his lips clean to savor your taste as he brought his hand down to rub at your clit quickly, his other hand still furiously fingering you. Your eyes were wide, mouth hung open in shock, overwhelmed by the stimulation. Soon, you felt yourself approaching the edge again, but this time felt more intense, almost like you needed to––

“Fuck––” Tom groaned in awe as you squirted all over his hands, his fingers still going at it, trying to prolong the feeling for you and maybe even make you do it again. He was mesmerized by you. Your hands were restlessly pulling at the cuffs, your body trembling and shaking as you came, overstimulated. Tom pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed over your pussy quickly, making you let out a mix between a moan and a yell. He switched from thrusting his fingers into you roughly, to rubbing your clit, slapping it quickly as you kept squirting all over him. “So fucking wet, oh my god.”

Your eyes were shut as you panted, your head turned to the side, tucked into your arm, your stomach flexing and tensing every few seconds as Tom tortured you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you heard your toy switch on and without warning he pressed it on to your sensitive clit, making you scream.

As he promised, you were screaming his name, your body shaking under him as he slid himself inside of you, the vibe still on. He was thrusting into you fast and hard, moaning and growling obscenities like ‘my fucking pussy’, ‘that’s it take that cock just the way you like,’ which only made your head spin even more. You were barely able to function, only saying his name over and over again while he used you like a toy.

With all the time he spent playing with you, teasing you, edging you, making you cum––which he was still doing, he was super sensitive, so it didn’t take long for him to get close. “That’s it baby. M’gonna cum in my fucking pussy and you’re gonna clench around me while you cum one more time, okay?”

You whined loudly, your head thrashing from side to side as he held your thigh, fucking into you roughly while he pressed the toy to your clit, putting it at the highest setting. “Tom!––”

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock. I know you can, that’s it. Gonna cum in this perfect pussy. Fuck.” He grunted as he released into you, your walls clenching around him tightly as you came again, your eyes shut tight as you trembled around him.

He switched the toy off and threw it aside, thrusting into you a few times slowly to see your releases mixed together on his cock. He bottomed out, filling you to the hilt and you whimpered, your legs still shaking. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, reaching up and undoing the straps of the restraints. You sighed softly and let your hands fall down to his shoulders, barely able to move them yourself.

He looked down at you, fondness in his eyes. “How was that, darling?” You simply mumbled a few sounds in response, the only intelligible word being his name. He smirked, kissing your forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

You both stayed like that for a while, you tucked into Tom’s chest while you caught your breaths, his cock still inside of you. After a while, he pulled out, earning a whimper from you and got up to get a towel to clean you up, since you definitely couldn’t walk on your own. You’d just wait to see how you felt in the morning.

When he finished cleaning you up and settled under the covers with you after giving you one of his shirts, he pulled you back into his arms and you sighed happily, nuzzling into him. His hand was tracing patterns on your side, lulling you to sleep as you listened to his heartbeat.

“You know,” he whispered. You hummed quietly in response. “I really liked tonight. With you.” He winced, realizing that sounded stupid but he held his breath when you responded softly.

“Mm I did too. Always do Tommy.” You were practically mumbling into his shirt, you were really fucked out.

He waited a few moments before speaking up again, but you had already drifted off halfway through his sentence, only hearing a faint I really like––before you fell into a deep sleep.

––❊––

When you woke up, Tom was out of bed and you could smell tea boiling in the kitchen, along with breakfast cooking. You rubbed your eyes with your knuckles, squinting from the sunlight that was peeking into the room. You sighed and sat up, raising your arms for a much needed stretch. You then reached for your phone that you’re guessing Tom must have put to charge sometime last night or this morning since it was at 100%.

You grabbed it and tried to stand up, yelping at how sore and wobbly your legs felt. Tom walked in just in time and laughed, rushing over to your side, “Woah love. You alright?” You let out small mhm signalling that you really weren’t alright. You couldn’t walk properly for Christ’s sake. “I really fucked you good didn’t I?” He smirked smugly and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah yeah. To the bathroom please.” He nodded and helped you along, his hands delicately holding you.

“Do you need me to set you down on the toilet too?”

You turned to him about to scowl, when you noticed the sincere look in his eyes. Oh. “Um––No I’m okay.” You turned to hold the door. “But um, can you wait until I’m finished.” You looked up at him sheepishly and smiled.

“Sure. I’ll just wait on the bed okay?”

You nodded and closed the door.

You peed, brushed your teeth and washed your face, refusing to look at your disapproving reflection in the mirror. Yeah, this was a little fucked up that you slept with your best friend all the time and basically acted like a couple until you stepped out in public––but what else is new. Well for one, Tom had never been that intense before––he was really determined, possessive last night. Was it because you got Liam’s number?

You guess it was an unspoken but unofficial thing between the two of you, but you never went past making out with other people, let alone getting their numbers and hanging out with them afterwards. Should you feel guilty? No, if he wanted to say something and tell you how he feels, he would, right? Funny.

You sighed and waddled over to the door before opening it and Tom perked up immediately, eyes finding you. You walked out of the bathroom and he watched you take a few steps, a small pout on his face. “You know I think I can walk better now.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

You frowned. “Does it look that bad?”

He looked up at you, a cheeky but hesitant smile on his face. “No I just want an excuse to hold you while you walk.”

You rolled your eyes but let him hold you anyway as you made your way over to the kitchen. He helped you sit at the counter and went to the stove to continue preparing breakfast.

You crossed your legs at the ankle and sat up, fiddling with your phone in your hands as you remembered last night just before you fell asleep. It sounded like he was confessing something to you and you couldn’t help but be hopeful. It sounded like the next word in his sentence started with a Y and you wanted to clarify, to assure what you heard, to soothe your heart.

“I um.” He turned, when you paused, looking at you curiously, a small smile on his face. “Before I fell asleep last night,” You noticed his eyes widened slightly but he quickly tried to mask it. “I think I heard you say something?”

He just looked at you, mouth closed, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I think I heard you say you really like...and then I passed out.” You laughed quietly to ease the tension, “Um, what––what did you say?”

He took a moment before biting his lip, obviously nervous, looking down at the floor. “Uh nope––Sorry I uh don’t think I said anything.”

Your shoulders drooped. “Are you sure?” You pressed, not even hiding the disappointment in your tone.

He laughed awkwardly, turning to put sugar in his tea. “Nope I uh––Didn’t say anything. Must be hearing things.”

You nodded tightly, pursing your lips. “Right.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your notifications to distract yourself from the metaphorical sharp pain in your chest, seeing the dms from your friends on insta, twitter notifications, random game updates, but your eyes paused when you noticed a message from an unknown number.

Hey :) told you I’d put your number to good use

You smiled.

Maybe: Liam: It’s Liam, by the way. From the party.

You laughed at how awkwardly cute he was and sent a reply. Not even two seconds later, you saw the three chat bubbles appear.

Tom perked up from the other side of the counter, thankful for a topic change and came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tight. “What’s so fun––” His brows furrowed as he read the text, his arms loosening their hold around you.

You tensed and you could feel the air around you shift. You swallowed nervously, straightening yourself out in your seat. It’s not like you and Tom were dating or anything. You didn’t owe him anything.

“It’s Liam––”

“Yeah I can read.” His tone was sharp, but unlike yesterday, it didn’t have a positive effect on you.

You both looked at the phone when a new message appeared.

Maybe: Liam: So I was wondering if we could get food or just chill tomorrow afternoon? I’d really like to see you :)

You took a sharp inhale, feeling butterflies in your stomach. With all the frustrations you’d been feeling and with how lackluster and clearly dishonest your last conversation was with Tom, maybe it’d be good to have a distraction. Try to move on.

Just as you thought this, he spoke up, bursting your Tom-free bubble that you were forming. “You gonna go? On the date?” His voice was almost accusatory, offended, even.

You sighed and he stepped away from you, looking at you in disbelief. “Yeah I think I will.”

His jaw clenched as he stared at you. Come on, Tom. Say something, anything. He nodded and walked back to his tea, making you roll your eyes.

You called an uber and waddled off to the room, feeling his eyes watch you as you walked off. You quickly got dressed, in your own clothes and grabbed your things, not wasting a single second. When you stepped back into the kitchen, you grabbed your phone and made your way to the door. You spared a glance in Tom’s direction, noticing that he not only looked upset but hurt?

You looked down at your phone, seeing that your ride was approaching and shook your head, “See you, Tom.” You didn’t wait to hear a response before you stepped out of the door, but you’re not certain that if you had stayed longer, you’d have gotten one anyway.

––❊––

The next afternoon, you had agreed to meet Liam at a cafe halfway between your place and his. You both also agreed that this was a casual hangout, maybe not even a date, just a time to see what happens, how you vibe together. So you dressed comfortably but nice, you weren’t going to go so far as to show up in sweats. That would be rude.

He got there a little earlier and insisted that you tell him your order so it could be ready for you when you got there. This boy was really sweet. You met him about ten minutes later. He looked up from his phone when he noticed you walking towards his table, a smile on your face. He kissed you on the cheek after making sure it was okay and even pulled out your seat for you.

“I’m really glad you wanted to meet up.” He seemed shy, it was cute.

“Me too.” You smiled, taking a sip from the drink he got for you. “It was nice of you to order for me by the way, thank you.”

He waved you off, “My pleasure.”

The conversation progressed gradually, staying in the typical small talk stage for a while when you first meet someone. How was your day? Tell me about yourself. And you wanted to be present, you really did. But your mind couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong you felt to be out with someone else that wasn’t Tom. You were shifting and fidgeting as you stared at the boy in front of you, a strained smile plastered on your face as you tried to focus.

Ever so perceptible, he noticed that something was off and looked at you concerned. “Everything alright?”

“Sorry,” You looked at him apologetically. What was wrong with you? You had a perfectly sweet boy sitting in front of you but all you could think about was Tom. “I just can’t focus today. There’s just––some things on my mind.” More like someone.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that brown haired guy from the party, would it?” He asked gently.

Your eyes widened slightly. You briefly thought about denying it but wasn’t that what got you in this mess in the first place? You weren’t going to lie to him. You grimaced. “How did you know?”

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.” He laughed. “Which I understand. But it felt like there was some tension.”

You nodded, swallowing, trying to process everything.

He shrugged, “I hoped it was nothing, which I’ll admit was a bit selfish of me.” He gave you a kind smile, pausing before going on. “Were you guys together or is it complicated?”

“Definitely that last one.” You groaned and hid your face in your palms, resting your elbows on the table in frustration. “I’m really sorry.” Your voice was muffled behind your hands. You slid your hands off of your face and looked at him, giving him another apologetic smile. “I really wanted to hangout with you and move on because you seem really sweet and like the perfect guy, honestly.”

He waved you off again, clearly flustered, only proving your point.

“I just don’t think it’s fair for me to try and pretend I’m fully here when you deserve nothing but honesty and someone who’s able to give you all their attention.” He nodded, disappointed but understanding.

“Well I hope he figures his shit out because he has no idea what he’s missing.” You sighed, you and me both.

“Thank you, Liam.”

You both got up and hugged. He kissed your cheek again, this time as a friendly and comforting gesture. “Don’t be afraid to call me okay? As friends.” You smiled gratefully and you both went your separate ways.

––❊––

That night, there was a pounding at your door. Mia was out, so you were left to see who it was yourself. You got up and looked through the peephole to find Tom standing there. You sighed and opened the door, blinking when he stormed into your apartment without saying a word.

His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his brows furrowed as he tried to contain his emotions and prevent an overwhelming outburst in your otherwise quiet apartment. The whole way walking over here, he could feel his stomach drop, his throat ready to hold back the bile that was threatening to come up.

“Did you fuck him?” He spat out venomously and you glanced up at him in shock as you closed the door. Normally he’d joke about it, make a few passive comments, but he was never this direct.

“Well hello to you too Tom. Nice to see you.”

“Answer the question.”

“That’s actually none of your business.” You bit back, your brows furrowed.

“Bullshit. Did you or did you not fuck him?”

“Again. None of your business. But you really think I’d do that on the first date? You must think really highly of me.” Your voice was sharp and clearly offended. He opened his mouth again but you spoke before he could. “Why does it even matter?”

He looked taken aback. “I––It just does.”

“Why do you care, Tom?” your eyes were piercing him, begging him to say what you both wanted to. You were sick of playing the same game, hoping for a happy ever after when you kept seeing the same outcome every time. You were tired of being hurt and disappointed. So you finally just decided to give him a chance. To see if what he felt for you was the same––to see if it was real.

When you were met with silence, your eyes started to water. “Why?” Your voice was small, aching for him to put an end to all of this, to be honest for once.

His eyes lowered to the ground and he bit his lip nervously, his arms limp by his side. When you spoke up his eyes jumped to yours, wide and scared.

“I––I can’t keep doing this.”

“What––What do you mean?” His voice was frantic and a part of you felt guilty, but you shut your eyes, frustrated with how much of an effect he had on you.

“This, Tom.” You gestured between the two of you. “Whatever the fuck this is. We––We’ve never even talked about it! We just fuck with each other and then fuck each other like everything’s okay but it’s not! I’m tired of it!”

He reached a hand out but you took a step back and he dropped it back to his side.

“Unless you have something worthwhile to say, just go.” Your voice was small, tired as you looked down at the floor. Your shoulders sunk when you were met with silence again.

“Get out, Tom.”

“Darling––”

“No, you don’t get to call me that.” Your eyes were glued to the ground.

“Darling look at me. Please!”

You could hear that his voice was shaky, and if you looked up, you’d probably see tears in his eyes. But you knew that if you did that, you would just give in like you always do. And you couldn’t keep doing that to yourself.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Get out.”

He scoffed, sniffing as he backed away. “Right.”

You stayed in your spot, stiff as a statue, wincing as you heard the door slam on his way out. You waited for a moment. A long, painful moment. To see if he would come back. To try and fix things. But he never did. Sure, you had told him to leave, so maybe it was a good thing that he respected your wish. Or maybe he just couldn't bear to be in the same room as you anymore. Either way, a part of you wanted him to fight for you. To want you enough. But he apparently couldn’t tell. Once you accepted that, you let out a deep sigh.

Only then did you sluggishly make your way to your room. Once you turned off the lights and got under the covers, the tears started to fall and it felt like they would never stop. Your breathing was uneven, hiccups jumping from your throat as you wet your pillow with tears. Your eyes were blurry, your body shaking, and your heart felt heavy.

You cried, your tears flowing down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut, your whole body feeling like it was aching from the inside.

––❊––

As soon as Tom closed the door to your apartment, he cursed, shoving his face into his palms as he leaned against the wall of the hallway, trying not to scream. His whole body felt unstable, uneasy and unsatisfied with the way things ended. After letting out a shaky breath and straightening up, he took the elevator down and sulked all the way home. He was frustrated and upset. Couldn’t you see what he was trying (poorly) to say? Couldn’t you see that he just wanted you to himself?

When he got home, Harrison was lounging on the couch, his eyes concerned when he noticed Tom’s demeanor. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom stepped further into the flat, silent, still processing everything.

“Mate what happened? Didn’t you go to see Y/N?”

He swallowed, his brows furrowed as he looked down at the ground, making his way over to the couch. He slumped down in the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees as he hunched forward, rubbing his face listlessly. “Yeah, I uh––She kicked me out.” He still wasn’t looking up, his eyes not even focused on anything in the room. Sure, he was present, but his mind was far from it.

He could hear the confusion and concern in Harrison’s voice. “Shit, man. What did you do?”

“Well uh…” Tom explained, his head hanging in his hands as he recounted everything––how he was so wound up he could barely breathe as he burst into your home, immediately asking about the date, how you put him on the spot, how he froze up, how devastated you looked when you looked him in the eye. When he finished, the room was silent for a good while, the only sound heard being Tom’s shaky breaths.

“Are you fucking dumb?”

Tom looked up at his best friend incredulously. “Dude?––”

“You basically called her a whore!” Harrison practically shouted, getting more and more aggravated.

“There’s nothing wrong with fucking on the first date! And I never called her a whore! I just––” Tom countered, getting frustrated as well.

“Well that’s what you implied, dipshit!” Haz took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, resisting the urge to slap his best friend. “Why were you so upset in the first place, Tom?”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it immediately. He swallowed, suddenly feeling small and unsure of himself. “I––I don’t know.”

Harrison looked at him deadpan. “Mate, you know why.” His eyes softened as he looked at his friend with pure intentions, wanting to give him honest guidance. “You need to be honest with yourself and her. It’s not fair to her that you keep playing this game, man. I’m surprised it lasted this long, honestly.” He shook his head, lying back in his seat. “You need to go fix this.”

Tom sighed, “I know.”

Harrison looked at him expectantly. “Like immediately.”

“Dude, it’s late.” Tom looked at the time, it was almost eleven.

“I sincerely doubt she’s asleep after what you did.”

Tom winced, slowly letting out a puff of air as he gathered his thoughts, getting up from his seat. “Right. O–Okay. Shit.”

Harrison got up as well, eyes focused on his friend. He could practically see the thoughts flying around his head as he processed them all.

Tom looked up at him, his eyes suddenly clearer. “Thanks man.” He stepped closer to his best friend and wrapped his arms around him.

Harrison immediately reciprocated the gesture and patted him on the back a few times. “Go get her, mate.”

––❊––

You groaned when you saw the notification from the absolute last person you wanted to hear from right now––at least that’s what you told yourself, anyway. You couldn’t sleep, obviously and understandingly restless with your thoughts. So you picked up your phone to distract yourself, but of course, he found a way to intrude your thoughts again.

Tom: open the door please.

Are you serious––

You turned off your phone and put it face down on the bed as you stared at the ceiling. Fuck.

You slowly got out of bed, throwing the covers off of you, though your body was almost dragging you back down, as if it was warning you to stay put, to preserve your heart. But your mind pushed through and took control of your body, you had to know why he was here. You padded over to the front door, your socked feet cold against the hardwood floor. You looked through the peephole to see Tom there, desperately waiting for you to open the door. He looked as though he would stay out there no matter how long it took.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Time froze for a few seconds as you just stared at each other, taking in each other’s appearances. Tom’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes and nose red as well, and you could tell it wasn’t just from the cold. You were sure you looked just as fragile as he did. He looked scared, but also like he had something that he was aching to tell you.

You cleared your throat and even that small sound felt too loud for the space around you, for the silence you were both clinging too. You stepped aside, “Come in.”

He gave you a quick smile and moved past you, his actions way more hesitant than when he first came over tonight. He really was nervous.

You closed and locked the door and turned around to face him after taking another deep breath, this one more shaky than the last, your heartbeat starting to race. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shifting from side to side as you both stood there in front of each other. You had both calmed down since you last met, both your energies very different. He was anxious, desperate, aware. You were tired, hopeful but wary. But there was a distinct feeling of longing between the two of you.

“I um––” He swallowed, rubbing his hands nervously. “I have something I need to tell you.”

You bit your lip and looked up at him before moving past him and sitting on your couch, your knees pulled up to your chest as you watched him come over and take a seat as well. “Okay.” You muttered, eyes wide as you watched him.

He sat down on the other end of the couch without taking off his jacket, the distance between the two of you seemingly getting larger and larger. He scratched the back of his head, looking down at the carpet and taking a deep breath to prepare himself to speak. “I just––I’ve never been good at...communicating when it came to you and––I was never really sure why. Or at least I was scared to admit the reason. I would just watch you and hold you when you let me and then get jealous when you walked away. I always felt empty when you left me, Y/N.” He looked up at you and you sucked in a breath, suddenly realizing how intimate and vulnerable he was being.

“For some stupid reason I found myself pushing away the one person I wanted closest in my life. I was just so scared by how much I care for you, for how much I––love you.” He licked his lips and looked down again and you shifted on the couch, your heartbeat now pounding in your ears.

“I acted like a dumbass. I’m sorry. And I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, hell I don’t even deserve you––” He sniffled before making eye contact with you again, a small smile on his face. “But I just wanted to tell you the truth for once. I’m in love with you, darling. Have been for a while now.” You could see his eyes tracing your face, almost as if he were taking it all in, preparing for if this were the last time he would get to see it. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

There was a small silence between the two of you once he finished. You took a deep breath and slid over to his side of the couch, making his eyes widen curiously as he watched you. His breath hitched and he looked up at you, without a word.

“You’re an idiot.” You whispered. But before he could retort you grabbed his face with two hands and pulled him in for a kiss. At first he was in shock, but he soon reciprocated, his hands finding their way to your waist as he held you, your lips moving together in sync the way they should.

You pulled away and when you opened your eyes you saw him looking at you in awe. You ran your thumbs over the soft skin of his cheeks gently as you looked into his eyes. “I love you too Tom. Always have.”

He laughed and you both sighed, happy, relieved as you finally got what you wanted. “I guess we’re both idiots then, huh?”

You tilted your head, a small smile on your face. “You’re definitely the bigger idiot.”

“Hey!” He pinched your waist playfully making you yelp and climb into his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked down at him with an adoring smile, but your expression became serious for a moment. You bit your lip nervously, looking between both of his eyes. “Don’t ever hurt me like that again. Okay?”

He answered immediately, not hesitating like he was before. “I promise, love. I never want to hurt you again. Ever.”

You kissed delicately and pulled away. Once your eyes met, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, you needed each other.

Your lips reconnected more passionately this time, but still gentle. Soon you were slowly pushing the jacket off of Tom’s shoulders, letting it lay on the couch. You both got up and made your way to your bedroom, still sharing kisses as you walked through your apartment, your hands holding each other along the way.

Within no time, your clothes were off. Your body was resting comfortably as you lied in your bed, Tom hovering over you, his lips slotting with yours as his fingers stretched you out. You were moaning and sighing into his mouth, and he could feel the blood rushing through his body from the sounds.

His touches were tender, and familiar as his fingers worked you up gradually. His thumb rubbed at your bundle of nerves and your lips pulled away from his to let a breathy sigh part through them. He smiled fondly as he watched you get close, your hips starting to buck into his hand, but you brought a hand down to hold his wrist, making him halt his actions, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes were closed as you breathed out, trying to calm yourself down. You looked up at him. “Want––I want you, Tom. Wanna feel you.”

Tom nodded, biting his lip at the whine you let out when he pulled his fingers out of you. His eyes were taking you in as he slipped the two fingers, wet with your arousal into his mouth, sucking them clean and letting them go with a pop before positioning himself at your entrance.

You were spread open for him, legs around him as he slid himself in slowly, inch by inch. “Wanted to feel me, love. So I’ll let you feel all of me.” He bottomed out and the both of you moaned as you clenched around him.

You brought your hands up to his shoulder and pulled him into you, letting him rest some of his weight on you as you held each other, every part of you that could be touching, doing so. Your lips met again, the two of you still moving languidly, but desperately as you yearned for every part of each other. Tom bit your lip softly, slipping his tongue past your lips to tease yours.

He pulled his hips back and pushed them back into you deeply, making you let out a breathy moan and he trailed his kisses from the corner of your mouth, along your jaw to your neck as he started thrusting in and out of you. One of your arms slid across his back, pushing him into you, as the other hand found comfort in his curls, tugging and making him groan into your neck, his lips not letting up.

His hips were slowly pounding into you, gradually picking up the pace. Everything about this was soft and loving, like a brand new start for the both of you. In a way, it felt like your first time all over again.

Tom squeezed a hand between the two of you to play with your clit, his hips still thrusting into you relentlessly with purpose. His face was buried between your shoulder and your neck, his lips leaving soft kisses, and sucking marks onto the smooth skin. You were both breathing heavily, consumed by the feeling of one another.

“Fucking love you darling.” He was grunting as you both approached your highs. “Love how my pussy feels too. My good girl.”

Your hands were desperately clawing and grabbing at his back and his hair as you felt yourself moving towards the edge, your body aching for a sweet release. You needed that relief. You needed to let go now that you knew Tom would be there to catch you, to hold you.

“M’Yours, Tom.” You whined breathlessly as you whispered into his ear. “Make me yours. Cum with me.”

He groaned loudly and bit into your shoulder, the two of you soon releasing together, your bodies curving in on each other as you held each other tightly. Your back arched underneath him as his thrusts slowed, his hips pulling almost all the way out before he slammed back in, reaching the hilt, making you gasp as he came inside you.

He raised himself up on both hands and you pulled him in for another kiss, your tongue finding its way into his mouth, your teeth tugging at his bottom lip. The kiss was fierce and wanton as you pulled each other impossibly closer, almost as if you wanted to merge into one.

When you both pulled away you were breathing roughly, panting into the quiet air of your room. You bit your lip and brought a hand to his cheek to hold him lovingly. He turned his head and gave your palm a lasting kiss, pouring all his emotions into the small gesture. You smiled up at him.

“I love you.”

He kissed your palm again, then your wrist, and made his way down, kissing along your arm, then your chest and finally looked into your eyes, responding before kissing your lips yet again. “I love you too. So so much. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying it.”

You laughed warmly, pulling him closer so that your lips were grazing his. “Good. Because I don’t ever want to stop hearing it.”

He smiled, licking his lips. “Deal.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #fwb!tom holland #fwb!tom holland x reader #fwb!tom holland smut #fwb!tom holland fic #tom holland request #tom holland angst

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ladydaemon · 3 years

Text

SICK DAYS

kaz brekker x female! reader

A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.

Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.

Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning

Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.

It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.

"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."

"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."

It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.

These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:

House arrest.

Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.

Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.

"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.

"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?

"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."

"Still."

Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."

The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."

As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"

She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.

She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.

"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."

One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."

"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."

"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."

"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."

"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.

Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"

"Whatever dagger your heart desires."

"Two daggers and a gun."

"One dagger and a gun."

"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.

She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.

I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.

"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.

"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."

"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.

"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.

Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."

Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.

She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.

She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.

Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.

Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.

"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.

"Your face is the most interesting thing here."

For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."

"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."

"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.

"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."

Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.

Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"

"The numbers don't add up."

She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"

He blinked at her.

"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"

Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."

"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."

Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"

Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."

She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."

Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.

However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.

Almost.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker imagine

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

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TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

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saabbi · 3 years

Text

Regret part 7

Warmth in the freezing snow

Genshin Impact Adeptus!reader au

warnings: light angst?, mentions of drugging and syringes, probably messy, crappy quality

words: ~2.8k

Notes: series is resuming after the hiatus. I had a hard time writing this chapter (because I suck at writing) so I really hope this chapter didn't turn out to be too messy and confusing. ao3 series link

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Stepping out the ship, you’re immediately greeted by the harsh and nostalgic icy cold breeze. Pure white snowflakes that dance around your vision and the pile of soft snow beneath your feet tells you that you’re back in Snezhnaya.

You asked a subordinate to help you deliver the lantern you had bought for Teucer and obediently followed another Fatui member, who guided you to the chamber where the Tsarista is patiently waiting for your arrival.

“Your highness, I have returned.” You kneeled down on one knee, head lowering to pay your respects. The Tsarista’s ice cold gaze pierces you, making you anxious on why she summoned you.

“My loyal subject.” a voice so calm and quiet, barely to be heard, yet crystal clear and reverberates around the shallow and empty hall, sending a chill down your spine. You look up upon her call, acknowledging that she remains ever so strikingly breath-taking, as resplendent as the most exquisite flower, as elegant as Snezhnaya’s never-melting snow.

“Dottore has found a way to further enhance the capabilities of Fatui, and your aid is needed to achieve it.” She walks closer to you with each step, stopping just before your kneeled figure.

“To achieve it, your aid is necessary. I trust that you will provide all the help Dottore needs dutifully, yes?” A simple question, but her tone indicates that she does not accept rejection as an answer.

“Yes, of course.” The Tsarista seems delighted at your answer, resting her chilly hand on your cheeks and lightly caressing it with her thumb. The subtle intimate gesture however, was nothing resembling that of affection. The Tsarista’s sharp gaze remains fixated on you, yet it doesn’t feel like she’s properly looking at you at all. Her gaze has always been like that, as if she’s looking for something deeper in your soul, but not your existence.

“Dottore, come in. The final mission of our primeval harbinger shall now be performed.” The coldness on your cheeks is replaced by the sudden gushes of wind, the words leaving the Tsarista’s mouth leaving you off guard as you abruptly shot your head up.

“...Your highness? What does that-” Cut off by a harsh slam of the door, you turn to the entrance only to reveal a masked man with curly blue locks- Dottore. The condescending smirk spreading on his face as he meets your wary eyes sets off alarms in your head, screaming that this man is up to no good.

Your hand immediately reaches towards the hilt of your sword resting on your hips, ready to draw it out if he makes any suspicious movements. Furrowing your eyebrows and eyeing Dottore’s every move, unsure of what he would do.

“Relax, relax. This is all under the Tsarista’s orders, doesn’t do too much harm...I guess?” Dottore, now casually twirling a syringe filled with a dangerous-looking fluid, puts his hands up in the air in a placating manner, but his halfhearted response only makes you glare at him cautiously.

“I will have to question you on what you’re about to do, Dottore.” It’s all under the Tsarista’s orders, and you thought it would just be something about training new Fatui recruits, but Dottore’s behaviour insinuates that there is much more than that, and seems like the syringe is to be used on you.

“Oh this? Haha! I’m not quite sure, maybe knock you out for a bit? Y’know, draw out your adeptal powers to the maximum potential, I weaponise it, and voila! Fatui gets a new upgrade! Wonderful plan right?”

Dottore sure made it sound like no big deal, but you know that’s not all the catch. Because if it’s about your adeptal powers, then surely, the Tsarista’s intention is to-

“You’d better not do any stupid movements with your sword, yeah? It would be bad if you were to go against her highness’ orders, after all, you are her most loyal subordinate. Unless… you plan to commit treachery?” Dottore leered as your grip on the sword tightens, conflicted on what to do.

Reluctantly, you peered over to the Tsarista, who has not said a word at the impasse and tense situation between you and Dottore, silently watching everything unfold before her. The Tsarista’s glacial smile never fades as she meets your gaze, not giving you a definite response, but perhaps acknowledging Dottore’s words.

“That’s… not all there is to this, is it?” Despite your loyalty to the Tsarista, this question must be raised for your own sake. Adeptal energy has always been a rather sensitive subject to both you and the Tsarista, with you knowing that she has always wanted to utilise your mysterious powers to help her achieve her goals.

“Quite the sharp one huh? Well I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush, I’ll do you the favour in telling you this- Your adeptal energy is to be drained completely for us to use, ahahaha!” A fit of manical laughter jolted through him, his atrocious appearance matching his abhorrent personality.

“And that would leave me...vulnerable and powerless?” The appalling smirk that makes you want to throw up, the messed up plan that makes you want to run away from the Tsarista’s chambers.

“B i n g o! You neither have a vision nor delusion, so without those powers, you’re pretty much useless.” Dottore approaches you, barely stopping in front of you. Lowering his voice, he mumbled into your ears, “and you’ll be thrown away by the Tsarista, officially being useless to her. I’m sure you know by now, that all her highness cares about is that adeptal energy of yours, and not you yourself?” even at such a low volume, his mockery towards you can clearly be heard.

Of course you knew, that all the Tsarista’s interested in is your mysterious powers. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out her intentions in bringing you to her nation. Even after millennia of you serving her with your utmost loyalty, all she has taken interest in is your powers.

The cold Tsarista that requested you like an object from Morax as a trade of peace, and never paid you much attention. The Tsarista who only shows you some form of affection and addresses your name when she needs you to carry out her plans. To her, it was obvious that you are a mere chess piece, for her to attain her grand goals.

Despite knowing this, you still turned your head once more towards the Tsarista, locking gazes with her, searching for something that even you yourself wasn’t sure what you’re looking for in her eyes, but to no avail, the same empty eyes with no any sort of emotion returning your disappointment. That is how little you meant to her.

It has always been, a foolish hope of yours, to believe that one day, if you stay by her side long enough, you would become a figure that holds much more place in her heart. But that has never been the case, her icy heart never had space for you, locking you out. She has enough love for all the other harbingers, all except you.

The best course of action right now, is to draw out your blade and resist against the Tsarista. You have to defend yourself, you have to get out alive and well, because you promised Zhongli, Xiao, and Ganyu to return. You have to unsheathe your sword right this instant.

But your hands remain frozen, disobeying your commands and desperate internal cries. It should be simple, to protect yourself against those who could not care less about your existence and never acknowledging you, and flee to Liyue. So why can’t you bring yourself to do so?

Because it would mean that you’re defying the person whom your loyalty is dedicated to, denying the Tsarista’s ambitions.

The same Tsarista who ripped you apart from your family, but also the one who gave you a new identity, and a new place to call home, giving you a reason to live on by serving her.

And you who watched over her carefully throughout your lifetime; when she became obsessed with the idea of bringing down celestia, to the point where delusions are invented just for the sole purpose of resisting against the sacred land where gods are rumoured to reside.

You never found out the reason behind her obstinacy in bringing down celestia, but you stayed beside her long enough to witness her desire for power and authority to continue to expand into a bottomless abyss, and the times when she struggled.

Times when her immature plans backfired, times she felt livid and Snezhnaya would be in raging blizzards for weeks, times when she doubted her own decisions. You were always there, by her side and ready to jump into action whenever she needed you to.

Through trial and error, she learned to develop well thought-out plans after calculations and taking precautionary measures, and recruited talented individuals. The harder she falls, the higher she bounces. She was undeniably a dazzling existence to you.

The Tsarista is a blinding lone star that continues to glisten even if other stars have faded, showing its resistance towards the devouring night sky. Someone so cruel and brutal, yet ever so resplendent, that you couldn’t peel your eyes off her.

A star that defies the night sky.

And you, who only knew how to live under orders and pretty much lived a tedious life besides carrying out Fatui duties, are dull and have long succumbed to darkness.

So how could you deny her? The one who never faltered, the flames of ambition that refuses to die out no matter what? You couldn’t bring yourself to betray her even at this very moment, because you have watched over her for far too long.

“This turned out to be rather...disappointing.” Seeing you loosening your grip on the sword and putting down your defenses, Dottore scoffs.

You take a sharp inhale, making up your mind. Regretfully, your decision is to stay loyal to the Tsarista and faithfully do as she wishes up until the very end. A very foolish decision even you are aware of, and one that makes your heart scream in agony knowing that you’re once again being thrown away. Even so, this is the path you have chosen.

Drained, you felt. It felt as if your powers erupted all at once, and got sucked dry by a vacuum cleaner and left to die on the road. Your role as the twelfth harbinger has been dismissed, now just an identity-less wanderer. The Tsarista truly is a cruel person, you thought, to just throw you out and let you crawl away all by your own whilst surrounded by nothing but coldness and snow, knowing that you right now are incredibly weak and vulnerable. She didn’t even have someone to escort you to a shelter, simply took away your harbinger identification with the usual eerie smile.

But archons do you feel horrible, dizzy and nauseous, on the verge of passing out. Now that you’ve lost your place, where would you go? Tired, cold and nowhere to go, you lean on a nearby bark to grab a hold of yourself, trying figure out what to do from now on.

Slumping down and shutting your eyes, you are forced to face your own emotions that you have repressed in the Tsarista’s chambers. Your heart aches so much, the strong pulsations being the only thing resounding in your ears, it hurts more than how your body is right now.

What a pathetic destiny you face, to be thrown away whom you trusted and served twice in your lifetime. It hurts so much, your heart continuously screams to you, not forgiving the way you hurt it so severely. So pathetic, you are so pathetic, you thought.

Even after millennia, you still never found a place you truly belonged to, your miserable and pathetic self was not accepted anywhere. You know very well the Tsarista has always been using you, yet facing the harsh reality is not as easy as you thought.

Wouldn’t it be better if the abyss consumed you? To be embraced by darkness and vanish, not having to face pointless emotions and drama? If only your eyes never opened back from the first time you dirtied your own hands, and instead swallow by the cold and hungry arms of demise- if you only died back then, would you still have to face such circumstances?

“...Hey, comrade.” a light whisper of a familiar voice enters your ears, dragging you back from your thoughts. You looked up at the one who called for you, only to find your vision blurry and cheeks feeling wet and cold. You didn’t even realise droplets of tears had trickled down your cheeks, you are even surprised that you’re capable of crying, you hadn’t shed a tear, let alone cry out loud for so long that you had forgotten how it felt.

Childe crawls closer, slowly wrapping you into a warm hug and gently strokes you on the head like how he has treats his siblings. You feel embarrassed to be comforted by someone much younger than you and being treated like a child, but returned the hug nonetheless. Not knowing how much you needed a hug, you find his embrace to be pleasant and safe.

“There’s a ship heading to Liyue, so let’s get you home to where it’s warm and safe, yeah?” Home, Childe said, you wanted to retort, but somehow ‘home’ and ‘Liyue’ just sounded right. Is it okay if you return there? To seek asylum?

“Come on comrade, it’d be devastating if you missed the ride!” slumping your weak arms over his shoulders and a hand on your waist to support you, lifting you onto your feet to lead you to the harbour.

“I-I’m sorry for what happened, and that I...I couldn’t help you. If I had known what Dottore was scheming, I would have talked to the Tsarista and convince her not to adopt such a brutal method.” His cheery voice is replaced by one with remorse, avoiding your eyes.

“I didn’t know Dottore came up with such an outrageous method, the Tsarista didn’t inform us of her plan! I- I should’ve known Dottore was up to no good! I could’ve done something-” Getting agitated, his speech hastens and stumbles over his own words.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you know it’s not your fault.” You cut him off, giving him a soft slap on the back. “The Tsarista had such plans a long time ago, she just...never found the right methods until today, I guess.”

Somehow, it only made Childe feel even worse, guilt and sympathy all shown on his face.

“Come on, where’s your usual jolly self? A gloomy expression doesn't suit you at all. Teucer and Tonia will be worried for their #1 toymaker of Snezhnaya.” you mustered a feeble smile, assuring him that you’re fine.

“Well, never thought I’d hear you crack a joke after all these years…” Childe’s lips curve into a relieved and playful smile. Although, you have to admit, it does makes you feel better knowing that he’s worried for you.

“This is the Crux, you might’ve seen their crew around Liyue before. I spoke with the captain, and it’s a huge relief that she accepted our request!” You and Childe stumbled into the guest room that is kindly lent to you, with Childe immediately helping you get on the bed and wrapping you in blankets.

“You had a not-so-pleasant eventful day, it’s best if you warm up and rest now. I can’t go back with you, but I’ve contacted Zhongli, he should be there to pick you up when you arrive.” with a soft tone, Childe picks up your hand and gently strokes your palms, taking a note of your pale complexion, you remind him of his siblings when they were sick. He turns to leave you alone, about to close the door.

“Hey, Childe?” He abruptly stops and turns back to you with a concerned look, worried if you’re still feeling unwell and perhaps he could help.

“Thank you.” but only two simple words came out of your mouth. So simple and short, but more than enough to convey the gratitude and respect you held for him.

Childe breaks into a beaming smile, “Of course! We’re friends after all, right comrade? I think I’m even your best friend!” to which you chuckled. Yeah, you suppose he isn’t wrong on that.

Just before he closes the door completely, he halts and opens his mouth, “Teucer adored your gift, he and Tonia wanted to prepare something in return… I’ll bring it to you next time, yeah? And perhaps drink tea too at Zhongli’s?”

“Yes, I shall look forward to dear Teucer and Tonia’s gift then, it’s a promise.” You feel your consciousness slip away, closing your eyes and replying to Childe with a light smile on your face.

“It’s a promise!” He enthusiastically replied, only to realise he should tone it down to let you sleep in peace. “Sweet dreams, comrade.” Just before passing out on your bed, you hear Childe’s almost inaudible reply and a click on the door shutting close.

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itadorisgf · 3 years

Text

— a fall from grace

aka break up headcanons

⤷ anonymous asked: hi! what if u wrote angst headcanons on how megumi or itadori would react to breaking up with y/n? like what do u think would make them break up in the first place😳. anyways i hope u have a good rest of ur day!!💗💗

note: oooo angst, i hope i did your suggestion justice and that this was angsty enough!! i hope you have a lovely day as well <33333

ft. fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento, nobara kugisaki

warning: angst

⤷ main page

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

reason: bad at communicating

fushiguro has never been good at expressing his feelings.

he cares for you, he really does, but he’s always felt that it’s unneeded for him to show that.

you should just know that he does. if he didn’t love you then why would he be dating you?

if he didn’t want you then why would he bother to be in a relationship with you?

he doesn’t understand that it feels like he just doesn’t care about your relationship at times.

nor does he understand that sometimes you need reassurance that he does indeed care about you.

it’s hard when he’s not very affectionate and he tends to be short and dry when conversing.

and that’s just who fushiguro is. it’s a natural part of his personality to not exactly be open with his emotions and feelings.

so you break up with him. it’s not that you don’t love fushiguro, you do, but you can’t be in a relationship where you continuously question whether or not he actually wants to be with you.

fushiguro becomes more reserved and closed off following your break up.

his friends would playfully ask him why he’s being more emo than usual, but when fushiguro doesn’t respond at all, they understand that it’s serious.

he wonders if he was more expressive and open with how he felt about you, would you still be here?

GOJO SATORU

reason: too flippant

the fact that gojo’s deemed the most powerful shaman there is by others has made his ego grow exponentially.

he’s well aware of how many view him, as some sort of celebrity, and he revels in the praise and adoration that they shower him with.

gojo’s cheeky and will indulge those who admire him by playfully flirting back with them when they come onto him.

and when you bring up your concerns about how you’re not necessarily comfortable with how gojo interacts with his admirers, he brushes you off.

tells you that you’re the only one for him and that he doesn’t mean anything by flirting with them. it’s harmless.

and it may be true that they don’t matter to gojo, but the way he so easily sweeps your feelings to the side hurts.

you try one last time to explain how you feel to gojo, emphasizing that the way he disregards your worries upsets you.

and once again, gojo addresses the discussion in a very lighthearted and casual way that makes it feel like he’s downplaying how you feel.

when you break up with him, he thinks you’re joking. when you make it clear to gojo that you’re not joking and that you’re entirely serious, he just says okay and leaves.

he thinks you’re overreacting, and in need of some time to cool down. he assures himself that when he comes home later, you’ll be waiting for him.

but, you’re not. all your belongings are cleared from your shared apartment, and that’s when gojo realizes how much he’s utterly fucked up.

however, gojo is too prideful to admit that he’s messed up. he continues on like normal, flirting even more heavily with his fans, but he doesn’t care for any of them.

how could he when none of them are you?

ITADORI YUUJI

reason: too caring

itadori’s heart is simply too big.

you love that he’s so willing to help others and that he cares deeply for his friends, but you can’t stand the way that he holds little to no value for his own life.

he’s willing to throw himself head first into a fight in order to protect others.

itadori has a strong sense of duty as sukuna’s vessel. he knows that there are some things that only he can do as sukuna’s vessel that other sorcerers can’t, and who was he to turn his back on those in need when he could help them?

you try to convince him to care a little more about himself and itadori assures you he’ll be more cautious, but he continues to put himself in danger, often resulting in him getting injured.

and you love itadori too much to watch him throw his life away.

when you break up with him, itadori is confused. he thought things were going great between you two.

you tell him that you love him, but you can’t just sit and wonder if one day he isn’t going to come back from an exorcism.

you can’t stand seeing him bleeding and battered when he returns from missions.

you’ve already lost him once, you won’t be around to lose him again.

breaking up with itadori hurts both of you, but you have to do this. so you kiss him one last time, whispering an i love you against his lips and say goodbye.

itadori is heartbroken after you break up with him, but he tries to cover it up.

he’s still his regular cheery self, but it’s not as genuine.

fushiguro and nanami can tell that something’s off with him, but neither of them press itadori to tell them what’s wrong.

itadori is still in love you, but he has a duty to fulfill and he’ll see it through until the end.

NANAMI KENTO

reason: blunt

nanami doesn’t believe in sugar coating things or beating around the bush. he doesn’t see the point in it. he believes it’s important to be truthful and direct.

so he can be rather calloused and inconsiderate at times, even insensitive.

with his tone, he even sounds accusatory when you’ve done nothing wrong.

it’s humiliating. the way he lectures you as if you’re a child rather than an equal.

nanami’s tone is frightening, calm and even, but you can feel the anger radiating off of him. his words are cold as he berates you for needlessly putting your life at risk during a joint mission.

he goes so far as to say “you should have known that you were too weak to face that curse alone.”

and maybe it’s true, but you can’t stand the way that nanami talks down to you. it’s not the first time it’s happened either.

and you’ve had enough of it.

you break up with him and all nanami does is coolly reply that you’re acting irrationally and immaturely.

nanami’s frustrated that you’re unable to understand how he’s concerned for your well-being. you shouldn’t have attempted to face a cursed being of that level by yourself and you could’ve easily gotten yourself killed.

the aftermath of your breakup is messy.

you’re both sorcerers, but you avoid nanami to the best of your ability, partnering up with others for assigned missions.

on the outside, nanami seems to be completely unaffected by the breakup.

but behind his goggles, his eyes are more tired than usual and his patience with gojo has thinned even more so, causing him to easily snap at the man.

nanami doesn’t mind overtime as much as he once did.

he loathes how a quiet apartment is the only thing waiting for him when he gets off of work.

so he picks up more missions just to avoid the loneliness that awaits him.

NOBARA KUGISAKI

reason: impulsive

nobara often speaks without thinking beforehand.

she tends to say whatever comes to her mind, sometimes disregarding how others may feel.

you love the way that she speaks her mind, bold and totally unafraid of whoever she’s talking to. in fact, you even admire it.

but when you get into fights, nobara doesn’t hold back. she says anything and everything that comes to mind.

most of the stuff she says, she doesn’t mean. she just gets so frustrated and worked up that it just all comes spewing out in the heat of the moment.

but her thoughtlessness cuts deep and opens wounds you’ve worked hard to heal.

it’s during one of your fights that nobara lets it slip “god why am i even dating you?”

all the fight is drained out of you once you hear that. you don’t want to argue with her anymore so you tell her that she doesn’t need to worry about this relationship anymore because it’s over now, and walk out.

nobara’s reaction time is delayed, sputtering as she processes what you’ve said.

when she gathers her bearings and runs out the door, you’re already gone.

nobara would talk about your breakup with whoever’s around to listen. she neglects to mention that you’re the one to have broken up with her and rants about all of your flaws and why you weren’t a good s/o.

but when nobara’s alone, she misses you terribly and wishes that she could take back what she said.

as she lies in bed, she replays all of the things she spat at you in fits of anger.

she didn’t mean any of it.

she loved you, and still does.

470 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Time traveling bad guy. WR?

Targets - Chapter 1 - ao3

Nie Mingjue knew that spies were a necessity of life, even if he wished they weren’t.

Life, he often thought, would be much easier if you could just trust other people to be direct with you and they in turn trusted you to be direct with them, if you could resolve minor disputes with a spar to get out the energy and then some good conversation over some wine. Sadly, life just wasn’t like that.

So, like any good sect leader, Nie Mingjue had spies.

Usually, they sent reports through underground channels – there were many of them, enough to give him a headache trying to recall them all – but his spymaster had told him that in times of great need, one of the spies might decide that the news they had was so important that they would risk destroying their own cover and come in person. In such cases, Nie Mingjue knew that he had to let them in at once, no matter what else might be going on.

He did not know the spy currently in front of him except in portraiture, as the man had been put in place by Nie Mingjue’s father, but Nie Mingjue knew the signs of someone who had flown on a sword all night at top speed. He excused himself from all other obligations and took the man into the office with him at once, assuming the news was important.

It was.

“Are you certain about this?” Nie Mingjue asked, staring at the piece of paper he was doing his utmost best not to crumple in his fist.

The spy nodded.

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue said. “Go get the doctors to look at you, some food, then rest. You won’t be returning to Qishan.”

The spy saluted with a deep bow, and then left.

Nie Mingjue took a deep breath, held it for a few heartbeats, and then exhaled. Then he summoned his war council and told them that Wen Ruohan was starting a war.

“He’s not ready yet,” one of his sect elders objected. “It may just be a ruse to get our guard up –”

“It is not,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. “It is happening. If it were just aimed at us, it would be one thing, but this move affects all the Great Sects. I want all the precautions we put in place activated at once: everyone inside the walls, the shields raised, and a purge conducted of all those we know or suspect to be spies.”

They seemed ready to argue, just as they’d always argued against all of his preparations, all of his precautions, against his desire for revenge against the man who had murdered his father, so he added, ”I have called you in here to inform you of my decision, not seek consultation. It is not up for debate.”

Hearing the determination in his voice, his sect elders did not argue. They bowed.

“In connection with alerting the other sects, I’ll go myself to Yunmeng,” Nie Mingjue said, shelving any feelings of relief that they had not opposed him and moving on to practicalities. “Jiang Fengmian is cautious and conservative; he won’t take anything other than a personal visit seriously enough.” He hesitated briefly, then firmed up his resolve. “I’m taking Huaisang with me.”

They all looked at the piece of paper laying innocently on his desk.

The list of names.

Of targets.

The list held the names of all their younger generation, the heirs of the Great Sects and a few other names – Wen Ruohan had given orders that they all be captured and brought to the Nightless City. If the capture were rendered impossible, his instructions were that they be killed rather than allowed to escape.

Killed. The heirs of the Great Sects!

“Yunmeng?” Nie Zonghui said, not opposing but merely seeking to confirm. “Not Gusu?”

The Gusu Lan were better allies of theirs than Yunmeng Jiang, but that was exactly why Nie Mingjue shook his head in denial. “I’ll give you my personal seal,” he told Nie Zonghui. “Lan Qiren was a friend of my father’s, and trusts me personally; moreover, he is very protective of his nephews. He will agree to our request even without my personal guarantee.”

Nods all around.

“What about Lanling?” one of the other elders asked. “Jin Guangshan is a closer ally to Qishan Wen than he is to us. His son is on the list, and yet…whether he will believe us…”

“The reports say that the Wen sect is dragging their feet on fulfilling their orders, confusing and dangerous as they are,” Nie Mingjue said. “That’s why I believe I can make it to Yunmeng in time. From Yunmeng, I’ll go in person to Lanling, making only one diversion to get this – Meng Yao person that’s ranked so highly on the list, though as a precaution we should send a disciple ahead to locate and hold him. As for Lanling…”

He bit his lower lip. He usually tried not to, especially not when he was pretending to be even half the sect leader his father had been – he was only three years into the role, only eighteen years old even if he was pretending to be twenty-one, and these elders had seen him grow up. The last thing he wanted was to project immaturity as he was making what was either best or worst decision of his life.

Still, a list like this..? He was sure the information was good, even if he had no idea what it was that had driven Wen Ruohan from his slow, cautious plans for domination that they could not stop even as they knew what he was doing, to change from that into this – this recklessness.

The only way to counter a move like this was with recklessness of their own.

“Send someone to Lanling City,” he finally said. “Someone not formally affiliated with our sect. If the Wen sect drags their feet, that leaves a window open for someone else to make the attempt. A failed kidnapping attempt will make them raise their guard just in time to block any real attempt, and make my argument, when I arrive to present it, significantly more persuasive.”

They were silent for a moment. Finally, an elder said, “If Jin Guangshan ever finds out that we took this action, it would be catastrophic. Even if it ultimately turns out the list is correct.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. “Nevertheless, that is my decision. Go.”

They bowed again, and went.

Nie Mingjue went to find Nie Huaisang.

“We’re going on a trip now,” he said, bundling his brother into a winter coat despite the warm fall weather – his brother was ten and nowhere near having the golden core he would need to develop to keep himself warm at the high altitudes they would be flying at. “It’ll be fun.”

It would not be fun.

He would have to fly at top speed, putting all his spiritual energy and concentration on that – there would be no sight-seeing, no playing around, only the cold and bitter air blowing into their faces.

But he didn’t dare leave his brother here, either. Not when Nie Huaisang’s name was on the list.

Not before they’d cleaned house.

They weren’t the only ones to use spies, after all.

“Where are we going?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes brightening at once. “Is there shopping there?”

“Amazing amounts of shopping,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking of the Lotus Pier’s busy dockyards and Lanling City’s shopping district. “I don’t know how much time we’ll have to actually go shopping, though.”

Nie Huaisang waved a hand like the spoiled young master he was. “It’s fine, da-ge,” he said loftily. “I can just keep track of where I want to visit later on.”

As long as there was a later on, Nie Mingjue would take Nie Huaisang anywhere he damn well liked, and let him empty half the treasury to boot.

“Deal,” he said, and drew Baxia.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened. “Wait, when you said we’re leaving now, you mean – now? Don’t we need to wait for whatever attendants are coming with us?”

“Get on the saber, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang got on the saber.

Nie Mingjue departed the Unclean Realm with no attendants but for his younger brother for the first time in his time as sect leader, and as he left he could feel the oppressive weight of the Nie sect’s magical shield come crashing down behind him, its prohibition even stricter than Gusu Lan’s with its required entrance tokens. Just as he’d arranged over a year ago now, the most trusted of his people would be calling in everyone for a review – all the Nie sect disciples, all the staff and servants, even their usual suppliers, anyone with access to the Unclean Realm. Everyone deemed even remotely suspicious would be temporarily removed from their post and placed under guard; once cleared, Nie sect disciples would be stationed among the common people to root out any leaks that might come from that direction.

The Unclean Realm would be cleansed of the taint of Qishan Wen, and all before the Nightless City would hear of it, cutting them off before they could break off their rash course of action in kidnapping the heirs.

As for the heirs themselves…

Nie Mingjue could only hope that he would make it in time.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #targets #this fic is almost certainly not what you had in mind #but I hope you enjoy it anyway #sekirlu

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hetalia-reacts · 3 years

Note

PLATONIC HEADCANINS !! PLATONIC HEADCANONS !! HOW ABOUT- a doting touchy-feely PLATONC reader with the allies?? Friendship headcanons :3 (do Axis if u can but PLEASE don't do that if you are tired or busy PLEASE don't ♡♡:))

America

I feel Alfred is also a bit of a touchy-feely kind of friend too

Especially with best friends and whatnot

Is either always at your house or telling you to come to his

He just wants to watch movies or play video games with you

Heck he just wants to exist in the same room with his bestie

Will Alfred wake you up at 3am to do something with him?

Yes

Y’all will either be doing mundane things like going on a store run or literally committing a crime

There is N O in between

Since the both of you are both touchy-feely and likely clinging to each other you bet you’ve gotten the same question 1000x

“Are you two dating?”

You both either go for the ewww hell no or a straight faced but sarcastic yes we totally are

But it’s 50/50 if you both actually go for the same response

It’s a game at this point to see if you guys can read each other’s minds

You guys usually make an awkward situation for the person that asked because one will say yes and the other says eww and neither of you will back down and explain that you guys are just sarcastic and teasing jerks lmao

England

Arthur isn’t the most touchy person so having a friend that is can be tough sometimes

He does appreciate the hugs and physical comfort/support but he just gets kinda awkward

Well at first anyways

When you are certified besties he’s used to it and one can often find him gravitating towards you to just be close

Will never admit he likes it though sorry he’s a hard head

No one dares ask either of y’all that dreaded question though because they don’t want to deal with his sarcasm and the lecture that’s sure to follow

Arthur is a chill bestie though

Often invites you over to just be together

He doesn’t care if it’s just to talk, do something, or simply enjoy the presence of someone else

Help him cook maybe?

Even if you suck at cooking he enjoys attempting to cook with someone else

And that also means having fun in the kitchen and being complete dorks the whole time

And also having to order food or eat a sandwich because unless you can cook it’s going to be inedible

Will make you watch and read Sherlock, even if he has to be there or read it to you it’s happening

France

Francis is very touchy as a friend unless he knows someone dislikes it

So having a bestie that is like him is perfect

People probably think y’all are glued together at this point

No one would ever think y’all are dating either because Francis acts completely different with his bestie than a love interest

He’s kind of a mean ass ngl

He likes to jokingly bicker and fight with you

And definitely likes to cling and be dramatic with you to the point it’s annoying to others

Francis drags you with him everywhere

His house, the gym, the store, England’s house, etc

He cant just go alone anymore it would feel wrong like he’s forgetting something

If you’re bad at dressing or have no style he’s got your back

Literally shops for you but also constantly says things like you’ll never look as good as him

You are also one fo the few that will ever see Francis get serious or down in the dumps

It’s just something he doesn’t wear on his sleeve and reserves for those closest to him

Canada

Matthew is not used to having people cling to him

He’s not really used to having people notice him so having a someone that’s his bestie, that notices him the most, and always clings and talks to him is a strange and wild concept

Doesn’t mind the touchiness and honestly rather prefers it

He’s kinda touch starved :/

Matthew is likely always at your house with Kumajirou

Movie marathon and cuddles yo

Also as his closest friend you come to see his ‘secret’ side of being sarcastic and a complete savage

This boy does not hold back with you either

Maybe at first he did but when he realized y’all are in this friend stuff for life he won’t censor or sugar coat things if it’s not necessary

Makes you play and watch hockey with him

Will teach you everything if you know nothing

Matthew is the type of friend to invite you to his families holidays/vacations and come to yours

He knows and is cool with basically all of your family

I mean who could hate or dislike this polite boy?

Russia

Ivan is not used to friendship either as people usually tremble in fear before him

so having a friend that is touchy on top of having a close friend can be a bit much at times

But he’s happy!

He loves the hugs! Loves the contact! Loves having a friend!

Loves cuddles most of all he won’t lie, Ivan loves the feeling of comfort and support when you cuddle him

People do often assume you two are dating because most people assume someone would only put up with him if they were in love with him

Neither of you mind the rumors since y’all know the truth

Ivan is the sweetest friend

He shows up unannounced with food or groceries all the time

Always helping you out without being asked

Like oh your washing machine broke I fixed it/bought you a new one already or oh you suck at this let me explain it and teach it to you

Does this completely unprompted

He’s always over at yours or always inviting you over to his

Wants to do classic friend things?

Like things he sees in movies and shows that friends do a lot or things he’s overheard from others

Late night store runs, hanging out at parks, showing up unannounced to crash at your place, those kind of things

You’re the only person he confides in, you know all his secrets, his sadness, everything

Honestly, Ivan is the person who needs a touchy-feely friend the most out of everyone

China

Yao is happy about having a touchy friend but will always play like he hates it

Not in like a tsundere “I totally d-don’t need friends baka” kind of way but a really dramatic “omg I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me haha loser” kind of way

He’s only joking of course and apologizes if you get hurt by his teasing or he crosses a line

Only a brave few would try and ask if y’all are more than friends

They have to listen to a lecture with an angry Yao explaining that people can be close and not want to date and how immature and inappropriate they’re being

Totally the type of friend that mothers you

Constantly says you look skinnier than last time and forces you to eat because he’s worried for you

Will not sugar coat anything for you

If you ask for his advice then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get it even if it makes you cry or get mad

Yao wants you over at his constantly

He’s lonely man ㅠㅠ

And he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his house

Expect a lot of his gifts for your birthday/holiday to be cute plushies he found

Germany

Ludwig act differently depending on when y’all become besties

Like before Italy, he’s nervous, confused, and slightly annoyed by all the touching and notion of being besties

If it’s after Italy he’s used to all the touchiness and has figured out how to show his friendship to you in other ways

Like making you things! Or simply inviting you to hang out!

Ludwigs is always gonna be a bit awkward though

Always shy about hanging out and inviting you over

Many people assume you two to be dating because of his awkwardness but he is the first to start defending your friendship and it’s pure nature

He develops a sixth sense and now answers people’s questions about the two of you without even looking at them

He can just feel the nasty vibes

Asks you to do mundane things with him

Like shopping or even chores

Asks you to come bake with him a lot

It was embarrassing at first since not many people know his love of making sweets but he’s over that now

I know I say this a lot, but please work out with him _(:3 」∠)_

My guy just wants a work out buddy, a spotter, a n y t h i n g just please pick up the smallest dumbbell and pretend you want to work out

If you ask for advice expect him to be straight to the point about it but comfort you afterwards

Italy

Feliciano is a god tier bestie if your touchy-feely

Doesn’t matter if that touchy-feely emotionally and/or physically he’s down for both

Like please hold his hand, hug him, give him head pats, cheek kisses or any form affection really

No one even thinks anything of it, it’s just Feliciano being himself

If anyone did ask if you were dating he might get self-conscious of his actions, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like he was trying to be something more with you

He’s easy to calm down though

Feliciano invites you out all the time

Restaurants, wine tastings, farmers markets, gondola rides, just about anything he can think of that he thinks you would like to do

Always at your house

He eats all of your food too, but he makes you some in return so it’s okay

Gives really good advice

Like for his bestie he’ll get super serious and thoughtful about your issues, even spending days thinking of solutions

Tries not to sugar coat things for you but ends up doing just that

He doesn’t want to make his friend cry or even more anxious

Will comfort you though if you are upset about anything he’s said and apologizes profusely for it too

Japan

Kiku is overall one of the ones who needs a touchy bestie but is the most challenging with receiving or giving the touchiness back

He’s a man who enjoys personal space and alone time, so he’s honestly surprised anyone considers him a true best friend

He knows he can get a bit feisty and shut himself away when he gets uncomfortable and that makes it hard to truly befriend him

But he’s really happy you stick around and deal with his awkwardness and rejection of your affection

Tries his hardest to at least accept your friendly affection

No one would dare ask if you two are flirting or together because my god it’s taking so much of his effort to just sit less than 2 feet away from you at the start so they don’t want to ruin his progress by making it awkward

Kiku definitely asks for your opinion on anime and manga

Gets into heated debates with you over certain ones

Is shy but asks you to come over a lot

Likes to have tea and snacks with you while you guys talk

Y’all can talk for literally a whole day

You sleepover a lot, he insists and even got you your own futon with a cool custom cover

Gifts you a kotatsu at some point because he loves them and he thinks you should enjoy them all the time too

When he gets over a lot of shyness he loves when you do simple forms of affection with him

Like ruffling his hair or holding onto his arm or even just leaning against him

He enjoys those the most since they aren’t too physical and mentally taxing on him and it still let you physically express your friendship with him like you love to do

If you ask for advice either get prepared for a harsh wake up call or a stumbling mess of words

It’s 50/50 if Kiku gives you the stone cold truth or tries to spare your feelings

As your friend he thinks you deserve the truth but he doesn’t want his harsh advice to ruin your mood or make you hate him

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

And I Will Hold Onto You

Summary: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note/Warnings: Body Image Issues (Male) nothing too descriptive, prison arc is mentioned/is central issue; loosely based of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Also this is technically a part 2 to Drag Me Head First but it doesn’t have to be read that way.

And I Will Hold Onto You

There’s something special in the way that the first midnight of the new year feels. All that hopefulness and excitement packed into a 10 second countdown. The energy in the room slowly bubbles up, culminating as the ball drops. It fizzles out as loved ones share chaste kisses and friends hug. But all that remains are last year’s bottles and this year’s dreams. Maybe it’s something that Spencer always took for granted.

The cold midnight air is jarring, compared to his warm and cozy house. Spencer walks quickly, taking out the trash, filled with bottles of beer and wine. The snow crunches under his shoes and Spencer can see his breath in the air as he huffs to toss the bag in the black trash bin. Spencer, despite the way the cold air nips his nose, stops in his tracks and gazes up at the stars. It’s unfortunate living where he does, you can never really see all the stars. Maybe Y/N would like to take a trip in their cabin the next time he can get off? He could show her all the stars. But Spencer doesn’t need to go to the middle of the woods to see the stars; he can simply look into Y/N’s eyes and see all the magic the universe has to offer.

Spencer lets himself back into his house, just as Garcia and Derek are putting their shoes and coats on to leave. Y/N comes out of the kitchen carrying two trays of leftover food for their friends to take home.

“Penny, please kiss those sweet babies for me,” Y/N says, handing Luke the trays of food. She leans over to kiss Penelope on her cheek.

“They can only sweet when they are sleeping,” Penelope says, rolling her eyes and putting her coat on. It’s more of a cape in a spectacular plum purple color with cream colored faux fur trim.

“Don’t act so surprised, mi amor, look who their mother is,” Luke says, cheekily. He hugs Spencer and Y/N before grabbing Garcia’s hand with his empty one.

“Happy New Year!” Garcia and Luke call as they leave, shutting the door behind them. Spencer locks the door and heads back to the kitchen to help Y/N clean up. The plates sit in the sink piled high, with tall champagne glasses resting next to them on the counter. Glitter scatters on the floor, confetti in the shapes of “1s” and “6” lay littered on the tiles, remnants of the festivities just moments before.

Y/N stands over the sink, her hand rests on the ledge. She turns on the water and starts washing the dishes. Spencer walks up quietly behind her, nuzzling his hand into the corner of her ear and shoulder. He hums, the vibrations echoing into Y/N’s neck, causing her to giggle. He joins his hands together around Y/N’s waist, holding her tight.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Spencer whispers, his voice hardly audible above the stream of water. Even though Spencer can’t see Y/N, he can feel the way her cheeks grow against the side of his head. She’s smiling.

“It is a very happy, new year,” Y/N says, her voice strong, yet Spencer can tell it’s hard for her to keep it together. It’s not their first new year, far from it, it’s their 13th. But this time, it feels different to hold her in his arms and kiss her as the clock strikes 12.

They wash the dishes in silence, a comforting silence where certain things don’t need to be said. Like a well oiled machine, Y/N washes, Spencer dries. The sudsy dish soap smells like home and Y/N’s quiet hums sound like peace. Spencer really forgot how much he could love even the most mundane of tasks when Y/N stands next to him.

“Come on, Y/N we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just go to bed,” Spencer says, tugging on Y/N’s long sleeve of her thermal shirt.

“Hmm, I can’t argue against your cuddles, sweetheart,” Y/N murmurs tiredly, easily pushing the thoughts of clean up to the next morning. Her hand joins his, like a key finding it’s matching lock. They are cold from the water, but Spencer doesn’t really mind.

A tangle of limbs and hands, they make their way up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They pass the wall filled with pictures of their smiling faces or candid countenances in mismatching frames hung against the wall. It’s just a testament to how long they’ve been together, going back to their first date right before Y/N’s college graduation and Spencer’s fifth, leading up to their most recent Halloween. Each photo stuck in time, frozen with utter happiness and unadulterated joy. But there’s a gap in the collection, a gap that Spencer rather not talk about. A gap where, for the first time since they met, Spencer and Y/N were separated. Sitting in jail, all Spencer could think of was the personal mental prison that Y/N must have confined herself too.

They don’t like talking about the gap, but he knows they have too. Spencer knows that Y/N is proud of him, she tells him that everyday. Proud of him for keeping up with therapy, proud of him for letting go of the little things that he can’t control, proud of him for trusting her with his secrets and fears. It’s the strangest thing, to have someone be proud of you for just living.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall,” Spencer says, hoping that his attempt at referencing pop culture would land. Y/N stops to turn to Spencer, who in the moonlight that drips in from the window, looks much younger than he really is.

“Did you just make a pop culture reference that’s not from, like, 300 years ago?” Y/N says, her brow upturned in a quizzical stare.

“Come on, Y/N, you love when I recite all Sir Walter Raleigh to you,” Spencer says, reaching up to tickle Y/N sides, causing her to giggle and run up the rest of the stairs.

“Spencer! You know that I’m too ticklish,” Y/N says in between short laughs and gasps for air. She plops down on the bed, dragging Spencer down with her. He lays his head down on her chest and like a Rube Goldberg machine, her fingers come up and tangle themselves in his hair.

“Maybe our New Year’s Resolution should be to get some more exercise, Spence. Your heart is beating faster than mine and that run from the steps to our room is like a good 10 feet,” Y/N jokes as she continues scratching Spencer’s scalp lulling him into a peaceful, sleepy state.

“Two things, baby, one, we don’t exercise and two, that’s not why my heart is beating so fast, I think it has something to do with the beautiful girl laying so close to me,” Spencer murmurs quietly.

“Hmm, you certainly know how to charm a girl, even like 13 years later,”

“Actually it’s, 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 31 seconds,” Spencer says with a quick glance at his watch.

“And I’ve loved every single minute of it,” Y/N says, reaching up to sneak a pillow under Spencer’s head. She moves to get out of bed, much to Spencer’s displeasure.

“No, no, Y/N you’re so warm and I’m freezing,” Spencer whines, shifting so he can look at his wife, who has shrugged off her thermal shirt and jeans.

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N chides. Spencer, almost bashful at her teasing, attempts to hide his blush with the pillow that rests under his head.

“I only turn the heat all the way down at night so we’re forced to cuddle for body heat,” Spencer says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So you say,” Y/N tells Spencer, sitting down back on the bed. She pulls on Spencer’s legs, dragging him down the bed.

“Come on lazy boy, get your PJs on,” Y/N orders. Spencer, who under Penelope’s less than pure supervision, had enough shots to make up for all the college parties that he missed. There’s happy drunks, forgetful drunks, and then there're sleepy drunks.

Spencer stands in front of the mirror, inspecting his body. The low, yellow lamp light casts shadows on his naked torso. He’s filled out a little bit since they’ve started dating, especially within the last few months of Spencer’s healing. Y/N knew that it’s a sore spot for him, but there’s something about the way that Spencer’s dress pants sit tightly against his thighs or the way his shirt clings to his stomach that just makes him look so much older. Both of them, including their bodies, have changed so much since 13 years ago. Or 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 18 hours, 5 minutes and 12 seconds ago. They’ve grown up together, and now Y/N can’t wait to grow old together.

But the look in his eyes is not pride over his growth or confidence over his physique. It’s confusion. Spencer stares at himself like he’s an unsolvable puzzle. Y/N knows he must hate that; Spencer hates things that he can’t find an answer to. Y/N walks up behind him, lacing her finger together so her arms clasp against his waist. For a moment, Spencer flinches. Even her gentlest touches and softest kisses can’t wash away the fear of much harsher contact. Their eyes meet in the mirror, but Y/N can feel that Spencer’s not looking at her. After all these years, she can still see the terrified young man who brazenly kissed her in her car in the middle of a rainstorm. After all these years, Spencer is still the only man she ever loved.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly. His name off her lips is more tender than any pet name in existence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m being immature, it’s just,” Spencer closes his eyes, trying to focus himself in the present. It’s something that his therapist suggested. In moments of distress, find your anchor. Luckily for Spencer, his anchor has been his anchor for quite awhile.

“You can tell, I’m not going to judge you,” Y/N says, her lips leaving small kisses on his exposed shoulders.

“It’s just I thought this whole nightmare of prison was behind me. Therapy has been helping, I’m better on cases and I love teaching,” Spencer says, the pain in his voice leaking out.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead she guides Spencer to sit on the edge of their bed. She rubs her hand down his back, tracing his spine and around the freckles that collect on his right shoulder.

“I thought that the emotional healing would be the hardest part, I mean it is, but physically, I don’t recognize myself. I can imagine you don’t either,” Spencer says, he turns to lay on the bed, bringing his feet up to his chest in a textbook self-protective position.

“Spence, your body is gonna change, baby. God, mine has changed so much since we met,” Spencer gives Y/N a confused look, like he’s not thoroughly convinced by her explanation.

“It has Spencer. We’re not 22 years old anymore, we’re going to be like 35 in a couple of months. But you know, this is something we can work on together, I’ve gone my whole life not loving the skin I’m in. But being with you makes it easier, Spence.” Y/N says, running her fingers across the bridge of Spencer’s nose and down to his lips, that always a ridiculously gorgeous shade of pink. Spencer doesn’t say much, he’s still trapped deep inside his mind.

“I don’t know how you put up with me and all my antics, Y/N”

“You do my taxes every year,” Y/N jokes, making an effort to kiss every freckle and dipple on the expanse of Spencer’s back.

Spencer turns in the bed so he’s facing Y/N, he cups her face all the way from her ear to her jaw. It’s an intimate gesture that somehow is more loving and vulnerable than saying “I love you,”

“You know you make me fearless, Y/N,” Spencer tells her, not blinking because he doesn’t want to miss out on any more time looking into her eyes.

“You say that everyday Spencer Reid,” Y/N responds, letting herself melt into the touch. She grabs onto his wrist, physically telling him to not let go.

“I have a lot of days to make up for,” Spencer says, solemnly.

“It’s not making it up if it’s the rest of our life, Spencer. Besides, there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Day cleaning up all those bottles with,”

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@calm-and-doctor @shemarmooresfedora

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid you #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid fanfiction

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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A meta and analysis on Takaishi Takeru

Of all of the Tokyo Chosen Children, Takeru is lucky enough to get significant attention for two full series from beginning to end, and his character also goes through some drastic changes in the process, especially through Adventure and 02. There’s so much going on with him that it makes it hard to give a short answer to the question “what is Takeru like?” because there’s so much you could say about him at so many different times.

Fortunately, that’s what we’re here to talk about today!

Takeru in Adventure

At first glance, Takeru seems to be the “tagalong kid” -- the obligatory “little kid character” you have whenever you have a party in a fantasy story. Generally, these “obligatory kid characters” are the kind constantly struggling to catch up with the older ones. Adventure being a series that loves to play with tropes and expectations, though, very quickly says no to that.

Seki: ...We also mixed up the children’s ages, for a bit of variety. Kakudou: The oldest one would be the most unreliable, and the smartest one would be one of the third youngest. Just a little to throw you off the usual, conventional track. Seki: The youngest one would feel too much like a burden to everyone else, and conversely would actually have himself together.

Takeru “doesn’t want to be a burden” -- meaning his feelings on this issue are actually rather much like Hikari’s. Unlike Hikari, though, Takeru reacts to this compulsion differently -- instead of simply repressing things and pretending the problem doesn’t exist, Takeru’s reaction to his own negative feelings is to “have himself together” and act as if he’s got everything under control.

Or, more accurately, pretend he has it together and has everything under control.

Takeru, for all intents and purposes, was not supposed to be on the camping trip the others were on, not having gone to everyone’s school -- he had to get special permission to go. Takeru’s family is very, very split harshly at this time, with his mother not even able to treat Yamato comfortably. Yamato deals with the familial estrangement badly -- alternating between approaching everyone awkwardly and exploding like an emotional fuse bomb -- but Takeru tries to take it as a sign that he needs to be “responsible”. A lot of his actions in Adventure are him basically exuding this aura of “I can take care of myself!”, and in fact he works very hard to “assert” himself as if he were yet another peer. We even see him make the complaint directly in Adventure episode 43 -- while he is correct in calling out Yamato for coddling him and him only while recklessly disregarding the others, the fact he specifically complains about Yamato approaching him as someone holding them back if he’s not protected reveals a lot about his own mentality regarding the situation.

One of his first major scenes in episode 2 is him offering his own food for the pile of supplies everyone has, even though it’s just snacks. Which is, probably, a pretty accurate summary of Takeru’s character at this point: on the surface he’s responsible, well-behaved, and capable...but, in fact, he’s still about as immature as an average eight-year-old child would predictably be.

Yamato spends his Adventure character arc pretty openly angsting about his relationship to Takeru and how his family’s split has affected them, but throughout the entirety of Adventure (and, eventually, 02 as well), not only does Takeru rarely if ever touch on it, there are indications that Takeru deliberately tries to dodge the subject or not dwell on it too much. In Adventure episode 12, he actually outright lies to Patamon about his younger childhood memories, claiming he “probably doesn’t remember” anything about it despite the audience very clearly being shown that he very much did, and in episode 26 he comes very close to leaking his actual feelings about the group being separated being tied to what happened to his family, before quickly covering it up and trying to move on with the topic.

In other words, unlike Hikari, who knows exactly what she’s feeling but is compulsively unable to vocalize them, Takeru actively suppresses his negative feelings and tries not to dwell on them too much. Again, this comes from his desire to “not be a burden” on others -- he’s got this situation under control! Everything is fine!

And this has a very, very nasty payoff. While Yamato clearly deals with his emotional issues badly, tending to get very explosive about it, Takeru’s way of coping isn’t actually all that much better in the long run, because Yamato’s frustration and openness about his emotions at least lead him to being very straightforward about his feelings, incredibly self-aware and sometimes even self-conscious, and ultimately able to get at least some degree of catharsis from the situation. Takeru...not so much.

Takeru is a child, no matter how much he tries not to act like one, and it ultimately results in him reacting disastrously whenever something hits him too emotionally hard -- which results in Takeru suddenly becoming irrationally stubborn and even angry. We later see what it takes to actually break through Takeru’s facade of “totally having this together” in Adventure episode 22, which is also the first time he openly breaks down wailing in front of anyone besides Patamon -- and it’s, of course, when PicoDevimon convinces him that Yamato hates him. The interesting part is that this is so blatantly a lie that even Tokomon is able to quickly call bullshit on it, but Takeru, previously having worked so hard to maintain this facade of being responsible, falls for it completely with utter irrationality -- and it really does suggest that Takeru’s fear of losing yet another member of his family, and being a burden to Yamato, runs so deep that it causes that entire facade to shatter in one blow.

Which is where the problem lies: Takeru’s habit of suppression is so bad that once one of his triggers is hit, he completely loses all sense of rationality and blows up, and it becomes nearly impossible to reason with him because he locks down on becoming stubborn. It’s also dangerous because even he isn’t particularly self-aware of what he’s doing when he blows up like this; at least Hikari was very consciously aware of her suppression problem, but Takeru never really seems to have any awareness of the fact that his covering up of his feelings is directly related to some of his worst moments. We see it cause problems between him and Patamon again in Adventure episode 33, when Patamon asks a rather innocuous question about the brothers, and it hits Takeru’s trigger so badly that he snaps at him, resulting in the fight that kicks off the plot of the episode.

Adventure episode 52 is basically a major test for Takeru as to whether he really can hold himself together in a situation where everyone else older than him is gone, and “having himself together” is something he has to actually do instead of just have the surface facade of. He does, ultimately, pass, and this is why the Crest of Hope glows this episode -- but it’s also made clear that it wasn’t quite as easy for him as he would normally pretend it is. Of course, it also helps that Piemon is genuinely the scariest threat they’d faced during that time, but it also reveals that, yeah, ultimately, Takeru is an eight-year-old child who still has to struggle to put on a brave face so that Hikari doesn’t get impacted by his own fear.

For all it’s worth, although we get a ton of depth into his background and mentality, Takeru does not actually change that much as a character over the course of Adventure. This incident is probably what changes him the most in terms of him gaining a more solid core, and he also learns to accept the inevitability of fighting after his stubborn refusal to engage in it all the way back in Adventure episode 12 -- but for the most part he still does remain a bit naive about the world at large, and, more importantly, his issue with trying to cover up his problems with a confident smile never really gets addressed. At most, he’s willing to admit his grief over being separated from Patamon in Adventure episode 54, but even that is something Takeru tries to bounce back from quickly, much like with the first time he cried with Patamon in Adventure episode 12. But there’s nothing to indicate that his problem with emotional management isn’t going to continue being a problem from here on out if left unchecked.

That problem ends up taking another three more years to get addressed.

Takeru in 02

Takeru is one of the first people we meet in 02 (for reasons that end up revealed in the final episode), and right off the bat we learn that he’s a bit...evasive. He leaves a cryptic line to Daisuke about his goggles without coming even close to what we all know is the full extent of what’s on his mind (that the goggles specifically remind him of someone important to him), and later just...deflects Daisuke throwing accusations at him with a mild dismissal. In fact, even though Takeru pretty clearly understands very quickly what’s going on with Daisuke and how touchy he gets with the Hikari issue, he keeps dodging the question and constantly saying things that are evasive about it and therefore never truly helps his case until episode 17, when the circumstances between why Hikari and Takeru knew each other are finally properly clarified to Daisuke and he stops getting on their case about it on his own.

There were multiple points in time before this -- especially in episode 7, when Daisuke is practically at his worst in regards to approaching Takeru -- when Takeru could have easily said something to at least attempt to get Daisuke to stop bothering him, but Takeru never even asks him to cut it out! He simply continues to handle everything with a “yeah, okay, sure! :)” attitude, which of course confuses Daisuke (who’s rather allergic to people not being straightforward) rather thoroughly, and you wonder if he’s practically enjoying seeing Daisuke’s antics to the point he’s just enabling it further.

As a point of aside trivia, the official 02 website adds the fun detail that apparently he's popular with the girls at school but doesn't show much interest in them himself, and the Animedia audio commentary CD for Armor Evolution to the Unknown had his voice actor even express the opinion that he saw Takeru as someone who wasn’t really the type to think about romance at this age (adding in a separate interview for the 02 DVDs that he felt Takeru was respectful of girls primarily due to having been taught by his single mother to be such). The latter part of course isn’t something that comes from the writing, but given the website trivia I’m inclined to personally agree with it -- and, more importantly, the implication is that Takeru is at least aware of these kinds of things, but actively chooses to not think about it and deal with it when the time comes.

So in other words: That part about how Takeru actively suppresses things that are negative or inconvenient to think about, all for the sake of keeping a smile plastered on his face? Yup, still there.

In fact, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment from 02 episode 17 implies heavily that, even with their parents having developed a more cordial relationship after the events of Adventure, Takeru is now emotionally dealing with the aftermath of his parents’ divorce worse than Yamato is, since Yamato is at least able to speak about it casually and even joke about it openly, whereas Takeru keeps his mouth shut and the framing of the shot heavily implies he’s still extremely sensitive and unable to vocalize his feelings on it. Takeru never brings this up as something eating away at him for the entire series -- but BelialVamdemon uses it against him in episode 49, revealing that, yes, this is a problem that’s still tearing away at him, and yet he’s refusing to be open to anyone about it, even to Yamato himself. (Especially since, again, Yamato seems to be doing a great job trying to move forward; why kill his mood and thus be a “burden” to him?)

Even so, Takeru is very different in 02 partially because his circumstances are completely different. Adventure had him as the youngest in a group of older kids, so in terms of “being a responsible child”, that naturally meant being deferential and polite to everyone due to standards of propriety. 02 is where we learn a lot more about how Takeru interacts with peers his own age and people who are outright younger than him, when he has a bit more leeway to be more assertive.

On top of that, back in Adventure, Takeru was a young child who had a very small “range of periphery” -- as a young child still rather naive about the world, his emotional investment in things primarily pertained to loved ones and the people around him. But now that he’s a bit older, he’s gained a certain degree of strong feelings about “what’s the right thing to do”, and now has very strong opinions on it.

These things ultimately manifest in, unfortunately, Takeru losing his composure much more often than he did in Adventure, and for reasons that pertain to much wider things than just his brother. Still not having recovered from the trauma of losing Patamon back in Adventure episode 13, Takeru starts physically fighting Daisuke in 02 episode 11 because he perceives Daisuke as not doing enough to prevent Patamon from potentially becoming a slave to the Kaiser, and in 02 episode 13 he lashes out at Hikari in frustration about her refusal to do anything about her situation (which he of course ends up deeply regretting later in the episode).

Takeru’s infamous scene of suddenly switching modes on the Kaiser and punching him out in 02 episode 19 is basically the pinnacle of this -- because, yes, the Kaiser really did deserve it, but this really is not a good thing for Takeru either. This is Takeru getting the closest we ever see him to being a genuine sadist, and it’s basically everything to do with his emotional stuntedness coming out at once -- blowing up in anger out of nowhere with a passive-aggressive demeanor, succumbing to the weight of his trauma in the worst way possible, and mixing the ^^ front he puts on with his tendency to blow up angrily at anything that cuts him a little too emotionally close.

And for the first time, we see someone actually acknowledge how bad this is. Iori, one of the most consciously perceptive of the group, witnesses, for himself, the sheer jarringness of Takeru seeming to only really have two modes between “all smiles” and “unreasonably angry”. Sure, Takeru had shown a penchant for getting active as soon as there was something he needed to protect, but the moment it got personal, Takeru suddenly blew up in front of his eyes and almost turned into a completely different person. (Perhaps he’s not that different from Yamato after all...)

This is a very important moment because it sets up the base for what ultimately becomes the Jogress arc between Iori and Takeru. Daisuke ended up reaching out to Ken because Ken was someone who needed someone to accept him and teach him to move forward instead of drowning in the past; Miyako ended up reaching out to Hikari because Hikari knew herself to have a suppression problem but had difficulty doing anything about it, so the extremely in-your-face and aggressive Miyako could go in deep. But with Takeru, since his personality is genuinely volatile, and because Takeru goes out of his way to hide the fact he’s having emotional problems, personalities like Daisuke and Miyako wouldn’t help much because they’re too straightforward for someone like this who’s a bit unpredictable -- whereas Iori, who’s assertive but also methodical and thinks through everything consciously, is eventually much better able to reach out to him.

Once the relevant arc kicks in, in 02 episode 34, Iori continues to observe Takeru, and quietly notes the many “contradictions” in Takeru’s behavior -- since, after all, Takeru starts to sometimes violate what you’d think would be common sense whenever he gets too emotionally compromised. The fact that ostensibly one of the outwardly “nicest” kids in this group suddenly blows up in certain circumstances and basically goes “absolutely nope, needs to be killed!” in the midst of a few moral debates over killing sentient Digimon disturbs him deeply, and really, it’s not even about the killing part (after all, it’s later established in 02 episode 43 and after that Takeru and Hikari have a certain degree of acceptance of the inevitability that the others don’t) as much as Takeru’s being pretty gung-ho about it. Not “I don’t like it, but we have to” like he said earlier, but NOPE, GOTTA DO IT.

Iori refers directly to the duality of Takeru that he doesn’t quite understand multiple times in this episode (including in regards to the incident back in 02 episode 19), and it continues to torment him until the end, when Takeru only gives a very cryptic “clarification” that he doesn’t necessarily hate the darkness per se.

Iori, too intimidated to ask Takeru about it directly, goes to ask Yamato in 02 episode 35, and Yamato finally clarifies the background that we as the audience knew but Iori didn't: the story behind Takeru's trauma regarding the loss of Angemon back in Adventure episode 13. Yamato also makes a conjecture about why Takeru has been acting so ambivalent towards Ken -- you'd think he'd still be under Takeru's scorn after the events of 02 episode 19, but in fact Takeru's judgment of him in episode 25 was simply that he was certain something had changed, yet he couldn't tell what he was thinking (really rich coming from someone who refuses to tell anyone else what he's thinking himself!). Yamato guesses that Takeru is inclined to be a bit more forgiving of Ken due to understanding the feeling of losing a partner -- and the ultimate conclusion here is, basically, that Takeru's behavior is contradictory because he's acting based on what's personal to him, not necessarily via principles that make sense. After all, back in Adventure, it was clearly demonstrated that Takeru isn’t exactly rational when things hit too close to home.

The other important thing that happens this episode is that Takeru learns that Iori is actively trying to reach out to him, when Yamato drops him a line informing him that Iori asked. Despite complaining that Iori could have just asked him directly, after Takeru witnesses the face-off between Iori and BlackWarGreymon and a demonstration that Iori is clearly trying his best to make sense out of this entire mess, Takeru actively reaches out to Iori and says something to comfort him -- “a life is beautiful simply by existing.” It’s still cryptic as hell, but it’s not something he would have said in the midst of his anger in prior episodes.

It would be one thing if it were simply that by itself, but the following episodes further push the idea that Takeru really is starting to change after witnessing all of this. 02 episode 36 has him explicitly acknowledge what Iori’s been doing this whole time in trying to understand him for the sake of their Jogress, and, finally, during their meal later that episode, he says, very openly and honestly, that he thinks they’ll be able to do it now. After two instances of Jogress, these kids are very aware of what that entails -- so this is basically Takeru consciously acknowledging to Iori “yes, I understand that you’re trying to reach out to me, and I accept it and want to understand you.” Because Takeru is such a convoluted sort of person, this “understanding” ended up being something that didn’t span a single magical moment as much as it took several episodes and a diplomatic, conscious affirmation on both ends -- but it’s a fitting way to go for someone who had always indicated some pretty poor conscious awareness of where his feelings were taking him.

This is especially because, in 02 episode 37, his statements to comfort Ken are in pretty significant opposition to the sort of anger he’d displayed in earlier episodes, and are now a more pragmatic view of the issue in light of Iori’s efforts and everything he’d just witnessed with BlackWarGreymon -- and to drive the point home, the episode has, at the very end of it, Takeru making his first true explicit show of goodwill towards Ken after having been a bit touchy with him for so many episodes.

Iori himself, being the youngest of the 02 group, still has a lot to learn, and so Takeru, who had previously been one of the youngest in the Adventure group himself, now has his role inverted to effectively be a guiding mentor to Iori as he finds his own way. Basically, Takeru becomes responsible for the welfare of this young child, and so his way of treating Iori is markedly different from the more detached and playful way he would treat others from here on out. This is especially because, earlier, Yamato had informed him that Iori had taken a very roundabout way to help understand him better, and so Takeru probably understands that he scared the hell out of Iori earlier and needs to do better. While the Takeru of 02 episodes 38-50 still has a way of being playful, and while he still isn’t completely straightforward about his intentions, he is definitely much better about being open with the others, especially Iori, instead of doubling down on his “everything-is-fine” mode.

And perhaps this is what the other meaning of “hope” thus became in this situation -- learning to be forward-facing even in the midst of truly knowing and understanding everything that’s wrong with the situation.

Post-02

Although Takeru’s Spring 2003 track is addressed to no one in particular, meaning that it’s the most likely reason he’s so willing to be open about it, Takeru outright admits he’s having problems with his emotions -- especially those pertaining to Angemon’s death. We do, however, learn that Takeru’s started writing the early, early drafts of what’ll eventually end up becoming the novels he writes as a future career.

This being only a year after the events of 02, Takeru’s position is interesting. His decision to start writing is that he wants to have a record of everything before it’s forgotten -- because these things are very personal to him -- but he’s not emotionally ready for the huge task of finalizing everything in words, to the point he still hasn’t told his mother he’s started writing yet. After all, this is a book we eventually find out takes upwards of twenty years, and so this is the presumable reason why -- being able to get this down in a rational way that’s not emotionally compromising is going to be an upwards battle for him.

Even come Kizuna, there’s still a long way for him to go, because an actual line (in a very fast-paced movie) is dedicated to establishing that he’s still uncomfortable with his novel progress to the point he won’t even let Yamato see it. His official character profile and background details are revealing, too -- although he’s currently taking language classes in university and is even part of a children’s literature club, he still hasn’t actually decided on what to do with his future, meaning that he hasn’t determined that he’s going to be a full-time novelist with these yet. That means that even though he’s clearly still clacking away at his novel (multiple indications in the movie are given as such), his memoirs are still at the level of being so deeply personal, and not something he feels comfortable telling well, just yet.

I’ve pointed out before that despite not appearing directly with them in the movie, Takeru and Hikari have more in common with the others in the 02 group than they do with their Adventure seniors, and this is fully codified in the drama CD when Takeru is content to basically just “do whatever” with the rest of his friends instead of having any particular concerns about his future. And as someone who has a tendency to kind of just let his emotions take him wherever they’re going, this isn’t too surprising. Although he approximates as the closest to level-headed during most of the group’s antics during the CD, he’s still completely guilty of enabling them full-force, after all...

So, with the 02 epilogue, we get the massive meta reveal that the entire series was Takeru’s novels the whole time. This was planned to be the ending for Adventure before recording for the first episode had even started, but was postponed to the end of 02 when the second series was greenlit -- and if you’d followed the Japanese version, there are a ton of meta hints scattered around from day one:

The narrator of the series is Hirata Hiroaki, who played Takeru and Yamato’s father, and is revealed in this episode to voice him as an adult as well;

Episode 12 of Adventure is named “Adventure! Patamon and Me” and is the only episode title in Adventure or 02 to use a first-person pronoun -- and it’s of course a Takeru-centric episode, with the episode title using Takeru’s boku;

02′s first episode kicks off narrated by young Takeru opening the story, with Takeru himself suspiciously omitted from the opening vignettes;

02 episode 18 suddenly has the narration cut in when discussing Takeru’s trauma from Adventure episode 13, with the younger Takeru even filling in part of it himself;

02 episode 49′s “next episode” preview for 50 suddenly also starts using “we”, which also includes Takeru’s boku;

Finally, Takeru starts narrating right after Oikawa’s death, which fades into what’s revealed to be his adult voice.

In the context of Adventure, Takeru was “the youngest child”, so the idea makes sense that “the littlest one” would be the one to grow up and reflect on all of the adventures they had as kids -- and once 02 was added, it practically made sense that Takeru would be the one to recap both adventures, being the one person who was there to completely witness both (it also explains why Takeru and Hikari’s character arcs remain somewhat unresolved by the end of Adventure compared to others, since by this time it was apparent their story would be continued in the second series). So on a meta level, Takeru is, in a certain way, one of the most important characters in both groups.

On a level relevant to his personal character arc, on the other hand, the point here is that Takeru finally managed to put together his book and story in a way that he was comfortable telling the entire world about, to the point of choosing to make his entire career into it. That’s something that requires a lot of coming to terms with what happened, how he feels about it, how others feel about it, and everything about the whole ordeal in general, without compromise or (too much) bias.

And in the end, that’s really a lot!

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #takaishi takeru #takeru takaishi #shihameta

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milfnearyou · 3 years

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𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

“𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST. CHEATING. BETRAYAL. SUGGESTIVE. THATS PRETTY MUCH IT THIS TIME AROUND. NGL THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK AND IS A SHORT ONE SHOT, SORRY! CLICK HEADER FOR HIGHER RESOLUTION BC TUMBLR IS STUPID.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

“So you just woke up one day and decided you loved me?!”

Your voice was painfully shrill, bouncing against the metal walls and echoing through the elevator shaft. If you hadn't been so furious, you would've cringed at the way you sounded. Considering your behaviour to be completely out of character and rather petty. But it was impossible to think straight. With all the sirens in your mind screaming 'Alert!' causing you to grow defensive. You saw everything as red, wrapped in a series of warning signs. Eager to protect yourself you grew aggressive, fury coursing through your veins and laced with disgust.

The disbelief was evident in your tone, accompanied by the extremely annoyed look plastered on your face. Your eyebrows were contorted together, lightly creasing your forehead as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. Your hands were balled into tight fists trembling at your sides as you fought the urge to beat the living crap out of him.

"Fucking answer me Sehun!" You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You didn't understand him, not taking any of his bullshit words seriously as a result. Had he been telling the truth, had he truly meant every word he said. Sehun wouldn't have just stood there in front of you with nothing to say. The silence he offered simply adding more fuel to the fire that raged inside of you.

"So now you're silent? You weren't this fucking quiet back when you were professing your so-called love to me?! What's gotten into you now?"

Again, nothing but silence. The tall man simply stands there in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the elevator continues to rise higher and higher. With every floor, the elevator cabinet passed, the angrier you got and it didn't help that you lived in a high rise apartment. If he continued to act this way you'd be fuming, steam emitting from your body by the time you'd reach your floor.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone? Or do you just throw yourself in any direction that proves beneficial to your selfish well being?” The questions flew past your lips one after another. You weren’t going to hold back either. Pushing yourself towards him, forcing him to explain himself.

You didn't deserve the silence. You deserved proper answers, ones that were absent from the immature man in front of you.

"Answer me right now or I swear to god I'm cutting you off forever," Warning him, you take a step forward to face him closer. Invading his personal space as you stare at him, craning your neck upwards with your arms crossed.

Watching him like a hawk, you attentively wait. Noticing how he seems to take a slight step back, his broad chest heaving up and down slowly. He seems to be nervous or perhaps, flustered? It was hard for you to believe that with all the ways he could've handled the situation this was what he opted for.

Step by step, you get closer and closer towards Sehun until he's got his back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator. It was hard to believe that someone who looked dominant most of the time could be so cowardly.

"I'm not asking again," You state, pressing your index finger roughly against his chest. Physically pushing him around until he's finally had enough. His large hands pressing against your shoulders as he shoves you back, regaining his confidence. Finally, he refutes, silence no longer being an option for him.

“Fuck off! Do you want an answer? Fine, but you don't have to act like such an invasive bitch about things!"

Stunned your eyes widen. You can't tell if you should be offended or impressed with just how much you pushed him but you let him speak. Not saying anything even though he had just called you a bitch.

"No, I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide that I’d fall in love with you! It took me countless days and nights, essentially adding up into months of thinking about nothing except you! Do you know how painful it felt for me? Do you not understand how guilty I felt?!” The tone in his voice is dangerously low as he narrows his eyes at you. It's his turn to match your attitude, fixing his posture and standing tall.

"Oh really? So you only thought about how you felt and not how I would feel knowing about your feelings for me? Sehun, how selfish can you be? You aren't the only person on this godforsaken planet!"

"You don't think I knew that? I know you wouldn't be happy with this but you have to understand that had I kept everything to myself and continued to hang out around you; it would've been both disrespectful to you but also incredibly torturous to me. It was worth gambling my feelings and confessing with the consequence of potentially losing a friend instead of hiding it."

Taken aback, you feel yourself pause and you hate yourself for it. Sehun has a point, he's valid for being upfront about things but there was just one thing that didn't sit right with you. Despite wanting an answer and getting it you curse yourself for falling silent. The hypocrisy of your silence hitting you square in the face but you're not done. You still have one more thing to say.

"What about the fact that you're still dating my best friend? Did you think about how much this would hurt her? No, let me guess, I bet you haven't even mentioned anything to her," Bringing your best friend up seemed to be the major thing standing in between both of you.

Sehun stares at you like he's been frozen in time. His features completely poised and monotone as your eyes scan his face for any sign of emotion. It was still much too hard to accept his words, to trust them and understand that it came from the bottom of his heart. Your anger was now replaced with complete confusion, perhaps even denial as you scoff at him. He was crazy to think you'd ditch your best friend for a man like him.

Sehun only stood there with his shoulders pushed back, his posture relaxed. His orange tufts of hair making him look like a complete clown. His current demeanour was very different in comparison to how defensive he was earlier.

How could he be so hot and cold? None of it made sense with his face being completely unreadable, everything felt bland like a black and white movie. Sehun could scream as much as he wanted but his words would never get through, bouncing behind the screen, staying unheard from the crowd. All these things made it impossible to find the sincerity he had in his words represented in his body language.

The elevator came to a stop with a rather loud ding notifying you that it had arrived on your floor. You take one last look at Sehun battling with yourself on whether or not someone as selfish as him was worth entangling yourself with. But no matter how you thought of it you couldn't accept him. With Sehun came consequences, ones that you weren't willing to risk getting into and that being losing your best friend. Someone who was there for you through thick and thin could never be replaced with a man you'd only known for roughly a year.

He didn't mean anything to you and he wasn't allowed to have any meaning in your life, it just wasn't okay. Betrayal had a greater impact than love, you would be foolish to accept the latter.

Leaving him behind, you step outside of the elevator. Realizing just how much more breathable the air outside the shaft was in comparison to being back inside holed up with your worst nightmare. Your moment of freedom is cut short when you feel his lean arms wrap around your waist pulling you back inside.

He's clinging onto you like a child refusing to let go as he rests his head next to your shoulder. His hot breath brushing against your neck, making you uncomfortable for many reasons that were quite obvious. He just wasn't single nor available and you couldn't let yourself be the other girl.

“Please just—take a chance. I'm willing to cross oceans for you, tear apart anything that stands in my way because I love you. I'll break up with her, she's nothing like you. Why can't you see that I love you?” He rambles, his voice falling soft. Sehun sounds like he's about to fall apart as he speaks into the crook of your neck.

His voice vibrating against your skin, echoing through your mind. Despite his tone being no louder than a whisper, his message came loud and clear. Slowly his plump, soft lips make contact with your skin as you freeze in place watching as the elevator doors slam shut. Moving downwards again you feel like you're slowly descending to hell.

His actions gave you goosebumps as he peppered kisses against your neck. Using one hand to grasp your waist, holding you close to him. While the other cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly so he could gain better access to your body, his kisses moving down south and landing onto your shoulder. Pushing your shirt slightly aside before gently biting down on your skin causing you to gasp.

Sehun's touch was electrifying and almost hypnotizing, you felt yourself growing dizzy and out of touch with your surrounding. As he continued using his lips to convey how much you meant to him against your screaming mind that yelled at you not to do this to your best friend. But like a fool, you melt into his touch. Lips falling apart, as your chest heaves up and down. The air feels intoxicating as he rotates your head towards him. His lips crashing against yours as you feel like you're about to pass out.

You can't give in, you can't betray your best friend and yet, you feel yourself kissing him back. Your tongue tangling with his, exchanging dirty, secretive kisses. Turning around to face him better you fall into all the places you knew weren't right and that was right into the arms of Sehun's. Intertwining your fingers with his, holding onto him tightly as if the only chance you'd have with him would be taken away.

Now you knew what it meant to be selfish and just how delicious it tasted.

The elevator is filled with the lewd, smacking of the shared kisses between you both. His body grinding into yours as you feel yourself growing heavy. Developing a strong heartbeat where your filthy desires lay. You felt yourself growing wet, shifting your thighs uncomfortably together. Feeling his hand snake down towards the waistline of your skirt, tugging on them.

"You just have to say the word and I'm dropping everything and everyone for you," He says in between kisses as you tilt your head back in pleasure when you feel his fingers slipping past your skirt. Hovering dangerously over your soaked heat. "Do you want to run away with me?" He asks.

You want to say yes. Your body having a mind of its own would rather speak for you but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it. The image of your best friend is hung up in your mind and even though the damage has already been done, you still don't think it's too late to stop.

“I can’t and you know I won’t,” You reply, wincing at how your voice cracks. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, you needed to show him you had control over how you felt. That you were sure you didn't want him but it was all a lie. A lie you told yourself and in return had the truth spoken out loud by the actions of your body.

Sehun knew of this and yet, his peppered kisses come to a halt. The grip he's got around you loosening as his hand slips out of your skirt. You step out of his grasp feeling ashamed, not daring to look at him. Turning around and staring at the doors instead. Fixing your shirt you crane your neck from side to side trying your best to calm down. Bringing a shaky hand towards the elevator buttons and clicking for your floor.

You can feel Sehun's gaze boring holes into the back of your head.

"I don't understand. Why can't you just let me love you? It's not that hard to just give me a shot. I can give you the world, give you all the happiness and security you need in life."

"--Let me be the man that protects you, that cherishes you. I know it's hard because of her but...don't we deserve to be happy?" He pleads, his voice wavering. If you had turned around to face him you'd see his lips quivering. His dark, brown eyes are glossy with tears threatening to escape from the tiny apertures of his tear ducts.

But currently, it's your turn to fall silent. All because you know that despite him falling at the seams, begging you to love him you know that he'll only go back to being the same once he's got you twirling around his dainty fingers. His norm being the same silent person as always, emotionally unavailable and confusing as always. Plus, who's to say he won't just ditch you like he's doing to your best friend?

"It's your turn to answer me," He pleads but you ignore him. Thanking the timing of the elevator for opening right at the end of his sentence.

Quickly stepping off you pray that he doesn't snake himself around you again because if he does, you don't know if you had the power inside to fight him off again and thankfully he doesn't. Sehun leaves you alone watching you get out of his view, the sound of your Chelsea boots clicking against the hallway floors until suddenly you're just gone. A wave of heartbreak washing over his feelings as he realizes that he just can't sit here and do nothing.

He won't go back to your best friend, he doesn't love her and in fact, he never did. It wasn't his choice to hurt her like this but he couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong person. So he chases you, chases the love of his life eager to satisfy his selfishness and have you by his side.

The consequence of dealing with your best friend could come later but first, he needed to convince you once and for all that he was the only good thing in his life. Your best friend was to be replaced.

#this was ass: not proofread properly.#oh sehun x reader #sehun angst #sehun x reader #oh sehun angst #oh sehun suggestive #oh sehun smut #exo angst #exo fanfic #exo x reader #i don't know tags: bye!#lmk what you think.#solange is in the mountains: queue!#sehun smut #sehun suggestive

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