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#were not ready to add another layer
greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years
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(also, since im disgruntled, maybe we dont use adoption as a "solution" and pretend that kids arent verrrrrryyy aware when theyre unwanted. and also still makes the issue about 'the children' vs. what its actually about which is bodily autonomy. two things!
greys anatomy does alot of things wrong but one thing it got very right was an argument btween cristina yang and owen. And hunt says " a relationship is about compromise. Cant you just give a little?" And cristina says "you dont give a little on a baby. you dont compromise on a baby.")
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pianapplez · 3 months
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Hello there 👋👀,
So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...
Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂
Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)
i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:
She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.
I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.
On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).
After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.
Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)
To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.
Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.
I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.
Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!
#pjo crit#anti percabeth#annabeth chase#percy jackson#tbotl#pjo tlo#the last olympian#percy jackson and the olympians#congrats anon on being my first ask!!!#sorry if it's too long or rambly i just have so many thoughts about her.#i dont hate her i dont even dislike her im just conflicted about her. sad that half of her conflict was being jealous over a boy#like yeah i guess said boy was the first real friend she ever had but also rick wrote it in a very “girls fighting over boy” kind of way#didn't really write it to make it seem like annabeth's reasons were anything more than just a hormonal teen acting out. there were no layer#sometimes i feel like im being unfair to annabeth and that maybe her being emotional and mean sometimes is her character and#she's actually written well and i just don't like her? but then i think over it and im not ready to give rick that kind of credit lmao#i truly believe he wrote her beef with rachel to entertain middle graders without really thinking twice about it#annabeth adds to the drama with her passive aggressive comments but at what cost.... maybe im reading too much into it idk#maybe i just find boy drama annoying..#but making it so that rachel is bound to maidenhood was such a lazy way to get rid of her as a romantic interest#the way rick butchered her character and any char dev for any of them in the tv show by rushing so many things... god. that's another story#if there are any typos i'll edit them later but my eyes are dry af right now and its late jdsjdfh anyway i hope my takes were interesting?#maybe i don't have that much beef with annabeth herself but the fact that percabeth is seen as the best endgame couple when i don't see it
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drewsaturday · 1 year
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actually i think another missed opportunity of not showing the girls debating the ritual is we didn't see anyone who might've been ready to just... give up rather than stoop to murder. i know ben was in that camp recently but he wasn't even included here jkl;sdkljf i kinda would've loved to see some despair outweigh some of the desperation vs. the girls with such intense survival instincts
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twinsarekeepers · 4 months
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“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain. You’re not pushing me into the stairwell again.”
First of all, LINE DELIVERY?? Leah Sava Jeffries is an ACTRESS because ‘seaweed brain’ is actually so corny and it would simply feel like fan-service if they included it earlier or in another context but this was so natural and I was so swept up by all the other amazing things happening that I was excited about it but also keyed into the rest of the scene.
But the way this perfectly displays her fatal flaw. She will not let this boy trick her again (spoiler: he does). She was caught off guard at the Arch because she wasn’t familiar with his game but now she’s ready. She WILL die for him and that is final.
“Yes, I am.”
This was CRAZY?? Percy Jackson #1 mentally unstable man because how is he determined to win every ‘sacrifice myself’ off with her? And he says it to her face too. He does not care for the games anymore, he’s fully telling her that he needs her to live.
“I’m not going to let you this time. It doesn’t work that way!”
This made me so incredibly sad. Annabeth is still thinking in transactions. She’s thinking about how he made a sacrifice in the Arch so it’s her turn now. This is how relationships work. This is how every relationship she’s had works. She literally can’t comprehend how he doesn’t see it that way. How he could be selfless enough to sacrifice himself for her TWICE. How he could care about her enough to believe she deserves it even after she was the reason they were in the Arch in the first place (my baby my baby say it with me now you’re my baby).
“It’s why you’re here!”
“Excuse me?”
This was so soft like I just *screaming crying gif*. The last time she said ‘excuse me’ to him she was pissed off about him bringing up Athena but now she’s just confused and sad. Like, she trying to figure out what he means by this. Does he think she’s so heartless and robotic that she’d just let him die for her own gain?
I also love how they don’t have her say ‘what?’ because it just adds this extra layer of how Annabeth has trained herself to be more mature in everything she does, even her language, because she believes that if she’s not perfect, she’s not worthy of love and affection and maybe even existing (literally sobbing wtf).
“When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you.”
I was confused at first about this because I thought Annabeth knew Percy thought this about her until I went back and watched the choosing ceremony again. He’s definitely keeping his voice lower as he speaks to Chiron and both Chiron and him are raising their voice as they address the other campers so makes sense that she wouldn’t have heard him.
But also, this just adds so much to literally everything. Because, in the beginning, Percy didn’t think him and Annabeth would become friends. He genuinely did think that she would sacrifice him if she had to and he thought he’d be able to curb it. He thought he’d be able to fight Annabeth if it came to it because she might choose the quest over his mom and he couldn’t allow that.
But now here he is, after getting to know her, and seeing her vulnerability and bravery and strength and courage and wisdom and passion and everything that makes her so beautiful and wonderful and amazing and his friend. She’s his friend and she’d never betray him. She’d never sacrifice him. She’d rather sacrifice herself before she ever did anything to harm him.
And he’s apologizing to her. Listen to the way Walker says the last line (again, THE ACTING). It’s literally a confession because he feels so bad that he ever believed that about her. And now he’s making her do it. He’s making her do this thing that he once thought she’d have done without hesitation. He’s thinking about the Fates cutting that string and he’s thinking about his own words to Chiron and how Chiron agreed and he’s thinking about how Annabeth said that prophecies aren’t always clear and he fully believes that he’s figured it out. This is fate. Annabeth would sacrifice him and complete the prophecy. She’ll be the friend that betrays him but not because she wanted to and he will fail to save what matters most, his own life.
This entire exchange was very insane. It’s my Roman Empire. I can’t stop thinking about it because it shows their motivations and their viewpoints and their internal struggles so so so well like I can’t even … I’m having a malfunction.
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andypantsx3 · 4 months
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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters
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It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.
Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.
“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”
You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.
“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”
Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”
You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.
You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.
You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.
You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.
You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.
You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”
One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”
You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.
“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”
Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”
A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”
Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”
That wrung a smile out of you.
Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.
As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”
Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”
You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.
“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.
You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”
A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”
A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.
Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?
“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.
Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”
Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”
“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”
You hated her.
“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.
Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”
“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”
Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.
You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.
Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.
Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.
He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.
“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.
“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.
A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.
He looked like he’d smell delicious.
A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.
“Uh… good morning,” you managed.
The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.
“I hope you are well,” he murmured.
You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.
Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.
Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.
And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.
You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.
“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”
Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.
“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”
Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.
“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”
He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”
Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.
“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.
You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.
Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.
“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.
“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”
Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.
“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.
You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.
Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.
Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.
You found yourself smiling faintly.
“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”
Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”
Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”
Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”
Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.
“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.
Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.
Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.
That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.
“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.
He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.
You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.
When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.
But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.
After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.
Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.
“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.
Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.
A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”
“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”
His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.
“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”
Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”
You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”
That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”
A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”
“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.
You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”
Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”
You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.
As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.
But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.
But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.
The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.
“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.
You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.
Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.
When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.
“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”
You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”
Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.
“Shouto, really, I—-”
“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.
You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”
You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.
But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.
You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.
Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.
“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.
He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.
“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”
Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”
It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”
“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.
You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”
“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.
Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.
“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”
Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”
A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.
A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.
Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.
“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”
Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?
“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.
Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”
Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.
“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.
“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.
You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”
Shouto nodded seriously.
A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”
“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.
You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.
You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.
“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.
You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.
Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.
You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.
You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.
“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.
Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.
Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.
You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.
You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.
As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.
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st7rns · 5 days
Text
𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒, m. sturniolo
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✿ IN WHICH, everytime matt messed up his girlfriend’s lip gloss
✿ WARNINGS, black!reader, fluff, swearing, kinda suggestive at the end??
✿ RORA SPEAKS, i hope ygs like this! ik it’s kinda short but i js wanted to write smth quick n easy and im a literal lip gloss addict so.
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NO. 1
i’m standing in the mirror, layering my lips with my favorite pink lip gloss. my lips were already lined with my signature brown lip liner and the lip gloss just added the cherry on top. me and matt were going out today for lunch, so of course, i wanted to look good.
in the reflection of the mirror, i see matt walk into our shared room. “you look really pretty, baby” he compliments me which makes me smile and reply with a shy, “thank you.” even though me and matt had been dating for almost 6 months, he still made me nervous.
“so pretty i wanna kiss you” he leans in and gives me a sweet, but long kiss. i break away and pout, turning to look back to the mirror at my smudged lip gloss.
“matt!” i whine, “i literally JUST put this on.” i give him a stern look. he only laughs and wraps his arms around my waist from behind, “i’m sorry i just can’t help it when your lips look so damn kissable”
i roll my eyes in reply before reapplying my lip gloss and saying very seriously to matt, “that was your only chance of kissing me tonight, because i’m not about to be putting this back on a thousand fucking times”
matt unwraps his from around me to throw them in the air. “what the fuck? that’s not even fair!”
NO. 2
i was getting ready to record tiktok’s and take pictures because my hair looked good as fuck today and i didn’t want it to be for nothing. i add the final touch, lipgloss, before smiling at my reflection and heading to the triplets’ living room.
their living room literally has the best lighting in the whole house. i scroll through my saved tiktok sounds and land on nicki minaj’s black barbie song, the lyrics saying “i’m a fuckin’ black barbie. pretty face, perfect body.” and instantly smile and choosing it.
as i’m fixing my necklace so it fits just right, i hear the triplets walk through the front door. i lock eyes with nick first, who smiles at me “damn, you look fucking good!”
matt sets the fast food on the counter before looking me up and down, “my girl always looks good” he says proudly. chris snorts and mocks him in a childish voice before saying, “what the fuck did you expect? her to look bad?”
nicks punches chris in the arm, making him grab his shoulder in pain. “stop trying to start arguments cause you’re fucking miserable”
matt laughs and kisses me on the cheek, “she could never look bad” i smile and before i could say anything, he grabs my chin and kisses me on the lips. i immediately break away and groan, “matt, my lip gloss!”
“just put it on again” he shrugs, not even feeling bad. i throw my head back in annoyance, “it was the last of it! i can’t just put it on again” i grab my phone and storm off to the bathroom.
“you know i can just buy you another one?” i hear him yell but i ignore it and slam the bathroom door.
NO. 3
i’m laying on matt’s bed, scrolling through pinterest. we just got back from filming a car video, that lasted longer than usual because chris had to pee a hundred times. that kid needs to really stop drinking pepsi so much.
matt comes in the room, fresh out the shower. he lays down next to me and i can smell his cocoa body wash. i give him a soft smile as i run my hands through his hair. i can’t help but admire him. everything about him. his blue eyes. his pink lips. his stubble above his lips.
“what?” he laughs, staring back at me. i shake my head and quietly say “nothing. you just look so handsome right now” he smiles back at me and snakes a hand around my waist, pulling me closer.
he stares down at my lips before back up at my eyes. i feel him trace patterns on my waist. i look at his lips as well, which only gives him the confirmation he needs to kiss me. it’s a slow and sweet kiss but quickly turns heated, his tongue exploring my mouth.
he breaks away to gasp and cover his hand with his mouth, “i forgot about you’re lip gloss” he giggles. i laugh with him and playfully roll my eyes, “for the first time, i don’t give a fuck about my lip gloss,” i hook my leg around his waist and flip myself on top of him.
“now kiss me” i say against his ear. matt wastes no time connecting our lips and dropping his hand to my ass, squeezing the plump skin.
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neverinadream · 6 months
Text
The Voice Of An Angel
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Summary: A brief moment to talk as they catch their breaths.
Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: Work Song - Hozier
Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, 18+, minors dni, smut/suggestive language, pre-established relationship, soft dom!mason, sub!reader, husband!mason, talks of previous oral sex, breeding kink but if you blink you'll miss it, unprotected sex, not edited and only a short blurb
Notes: original gif by @bracedes surprise!! posting three days in a row? yeah, i'm surprised too, but here's a little thing that's more happier than yesterday's heartbreak. its short but would people like an extended version of it?? anyways, feedback is always appreciated
“I want to go back,” Y/N confesses, stroking her fingers over Mason's cheek as they both sort out a moment to catch their breath. His beard had been trimmed for their wedding but still scratched her. Turning his head, he brushes a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist, liking the way she smiles as his lips come into contact with her soft skin. “Go back to this morning,” she continues, humming as he continued to kiss along her arm, stopping when he reached her shoulder, “me in my dress, you with that look on your face as I walked down the aisle, the happiness, your terrible dancing-”
“My dancing was not terrible,” he interrupts her, his laugh muffled by the curve of her neck. He staggers open-mouthed kisses against the column of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent that clung to her skin. She whimpers, feeling his tongue drag against her pulse point, teeth nipping to leave another mark. The soft sound shoots straight to his cock, new life stirring as his body grinds into hers. “But, I agree,” he mumbles, giving her neck one last kiss, “I would love to go back and do it all again with you.” A cheeky grin creeps across his face, not going unmissed as he dips his head to kiss her collarbone. “I'd like to go back to an hour ago, when you screamed my name as I shoved my tongue in and out of your pussy."
“You're so predictable.” A sharp gasp sounds as he sucks on her collarbone, moaning at the taste of her skin.
“Every part of you tastes so good,” he groans, prying himself away from her body, “did you know that?”
“I think you've said that once or twice.”
He goes quiet, chest rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. His whole world was underneath him, just there for his taking. His hand slides down her naked frame, his hand moulding to the curve of her hip. Their bodies were a tangled mess underneath the honeymoon suite sheets, coated with a thin layer of sweat and the smell of sex sticking to them.
“You were so beautiful today,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “you always are, but today…today, when you walked down that aisle, I stopped breathing.” He drops his forehead against hers, bringing his hand up to her face, framing her cheek. “You looked like an angel,” he adds, nuzzling his nose against hers. He shifted his weight, her eyes snapping open to meet his darkened gaze as his cock presses against the inside of her thigh. “Sounded like one too as you came on my cock and begged me to pump you full of my cum.”
Travelling south, his hand presses softly against her neck, his mouth dancing against hers. “Mason,” she whimpers at the pressure, sliding her hand down between their bodies. She wraps her hand around his shaft, pumping him from root to tip, catching the way he subtly bucks into her hand and moans into her mouth.
“Will you sound like an angel for me again?” He asks, guiding his cock inside, her hand gripping his bicep as her sensitive walls stretch around him. He bottoms out, giving her a second to catch her breath. “Ready?” He dips to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Good,” he mumbles as she nods, “because I'm not stopping until you, my angelic wife, are begging me to stop."
———————
Football Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl
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imloyaltoscoups · 1 day
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first and last | kim mingyu
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ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ
As you sit on the soft grass, the gentle breeze playing with your hair, you glance over at Mingyu, a warm smile on your lips. "Mingoo, remember our first meeting?" you ask, your voice filled with nostalgia. "It feels like we were in a K-drama," you continue, your eyes sparkling with fond memories. "I still get butterflies remembering that," you add, your heart fluttering at the thought of that magical moment when your paths first crossed.
You're standing in line for the Full Throttle at Six Flags, surrounded by the excited chatter of fellow thrill-seekers. Ahead of you, a group of guys catches your attention as they cheer on a towering figure, Mingyu, who stands at a formidable 6 feet tall. You overhear one of them, Minghao, encouraging Mingyu to conquer his fears.
"Come on, Mingyu, you've got this! Conquer those fears! You're a big man!" Minghao exclaims, his voice filled with determination.
But Mingyu's response surprises you, as he defiantly declares, "Fck the fears, I'm gonna die riding that," He points towards the looming roller coaster with a mixture of fear and determination.
A smile tugs at your lips as you observe Mingyu's resolve, wondering why someone of his stature would be afraid of heights. The banter continues among the group, with another guy chiming in, offering Mingyu $500 just to take on the roller coaster challenge.
"Hey, Gyu, I'll give you $500 if you ride it!" the guy exclaims, his offer adding a new layer of excitement to the atmosphere. Jeonghan, another member of the group, joins in with a playful grin, egging Mingyu on.
As you watch the scene unfold, you can't help but be amused by the mix of comradeship and friendly dares among the group. It's moments like these that make waiting in line at an amusement park just as memorable as the rides themselves.
You began ponder the tempting offer of $500 for conquering a fear, you can't help but imagine yourself in Mingyu's shoes. The allure of the cash prize seems almost irresistible, and you find yourself mentally calculating all the things you could do with the extra money.
Just as Mingyu hesitates, contemplating the proposition, another voice cuts in. It's Soonyoung, one of the guys in the group, offering up an alternative deal that raises the stakes even higher.
"I'll do all your chores for a whole year, and Seungkwan can be your personal slave for five months," Soonyoung declares confidently, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Seungkwan, caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, quickly interjects with a hint of displeasure, "What do you mean I'll be a slave?! Why am I even inserted to this conversation??!!"
The sudden turn in the conversation adds a new layer of amusement to the group's banter, as Seungkwan protests while Soonyoung looks on, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. Meanwhile, Mingyu is left contemplating his options, torn between the promise of financial reward and the entertaining offers being thrown his way.
With a resigned sigh and a hint of determination, Mingyu nods in agreement to Soonyoung's offer. However, before sealing the deal, he decides to play it safe and ensure there's solid proof of the promises made.
Pulling out his phone, he turns to his friends, a serious expression on his face. "Alright, guys, I need you to repeat all the words you just promised," he says, his tone firm yet fair.
One by one, Mingyu's friends oblige, reciting their pledges with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Soonyoung reaffirms his commitment to take on all of Mingyu's chores for a year, while Seungkwan reluctantly acknowledges his role as a "personal slave" for five months, though not without some grumbling. Jeonghan then showed his $500 stating he will give it to him after the ride.
Each promise is recorded on Mingyu's phone, a sense of accountability settles over the group, turning their lighthearted banter into a more official agreement. With the evidence safely captured, Mingyu nods in satisfaction, ready to face the challenge ahead with the added assurance that his friends will uphold their end of the bargain.
As the first batch of riders exits, the crew signals for the next group of eighteen to step forward. You eagerly join the line, deciding to sit at the front of the ride, convinced that the experience will be more thrilling there. As you take your seat, you notice Mingyu trembling in the front row, clearly anxious. Settling in beside him, you can hear him muttering under his breath, rethinking his life choices with every passing second.
“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Mingyu murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of dread and resolve. “Why did I let them talk me into this? $500 isn’t worth my life…I’m going to die," Mingyu whispers, his voice shaky.
You feel torn between laughing at the absurdity of the situation and feeling pity for him. Despite Mingyu being a stranger, you instinctively reach out your hand to offer some comfort. He looks at your hand, hesitant and unsure.
When the crew member approaches to check your safety belt, Mingyu finally decides to take your hand. His grip is cold as ice, and you can see his face growing paler by the moment, knowing the ride will start any second now.
"It’s going to be okay," you say softly, trying to reassure him, even though you’re not sure if your words will help.
Mingyu squeezes your hand tighter, his eyes shut tightly as the ride's mechanisms begin to clank and whir, signaling the imminent start. You both take a deep breath as the coaster jolts forward, ready to face the thrill together.
As the roller coaster starts its ascent, the excitement of Mingyu's friends in the other rows fills the air. You hear Dokyeom's panicked cries to be let out, his voice rising above the din of the crowd.
"Let me out! Let me out!" Dokyeom shouts desperately, his fear palpable.
Jeonghan tries to offer some reassurance, albeit in a slightly unconventional way. "Just close your eyes and pretend you're a pigeon," he suggests, though it doesn't seem to do much to calm Dokyeom, who's now screaming at the top of his lungs.
Glancing over at Mingyu, you see him holding onto your hand tightly, his knuckles turning white as he grips the lap bar with his other hand. Despite his own fear, he seems determined to weather the ride, finding comfort in your presence.
You give Mingyu's hand a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support as the coaster climbs higher and higher. As the roller coaster reaches its peak, the breathtaking view spreads out before you, captivating your senses with its beauty. You turn to Mingyu, a smile on your face as you encourage him to open his eyes and take in the magnificent panorama.
"Wow, look at that view," you exclaim, nudging Mingyu gently, hoping to share the moment of awe with him.
But as Mingyu reluctantly opens his eyes, the ride suddenly lurches forward, the ground dropping away beneath you with heart-stopping speed. A string of colorful curses spills from Mingyu's lips, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
"Son of a—! Oh, sh Why now?! Fu—ck!" Mingyu's voice cuts through the rush of wind as the coaster hurtles downward with grand acceleration.
You both cling to the safety bars, the wind whipping past you as gravity pulls you faster and faster towards the ground below. Mingyu's curses mix with the exhilarated screams of your fellow riders, creating a chaotic symphony of sound that fills the air.
Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as the coaster races along its twisting track, each twist and turn adding to the thrill of the ride.
As the roller coaster screeches to a halt, bringing the adrenaline-fueled ride to an end, you can't help but let out a laugh, the exhilaration still coursing through your veins.
"Well, that was fun!" you exclaim, turning to your seatmate with a grin. "Again!"
But as you glance at Mingyu, you notice that he seems to have melded with the seat, his body limp and drained from the intense experience. Concern washes over you, and you gently remove your hand from his and reach out to touch his cheek and forehead.
"Hey, you good?" you ask softly, your voice filled with genuine worry.
Mingyu lets out a tired murmur, his words barely audible amidst the post-ride chaos. "That… that'll be the first and last," he mumbles, his tone a mixture of exhaustion and relief.
You nod understandingly, realizing that the roller coaster may have been a bit too much for him. With a comforting pat on his shoulder, you reassure him that it's alright, grateful that you were able to experience the thrill together, even if it was just for this one time.
As the crew begins to unbuckle the seat restraints, you notice Mingyu struggling to stand, his legs feeling like jelly after the adrenaline rush. Nearby, Dokyeom looks equally wobbly, his friend Joshua supporting him on his shoulder.
"Whoa, easy there," Joshua says, steadying Dokyeom as he tries to regain his balance.
Seeing Mingyu in a similar state, some of his friends rush over to offer their support and encouragement.
"You did great, Mingyu! That was wild!" one of them exclaims, patting him on the back.
"Yeah, you conquered your fear like a champ!" another adds, offering a helping hand to help him stand.
With Mingyu surrounded by his friends, you realize that your role in comforting him is over. Excusing yourself politely, you decide to seek out your own friends.
As you make your way through the crowd, thoughts of the thrilling rides ahead fill you with excitement. It's time to involve your friends once again in your own extreme rides adventures.
__
Exhaustion begins to settle in, and some of your friends are busy dealing with the aftermath of the extreme rides—whether it's puking or cursing you—you can't help but feel your stomach rumble with hunger.
"Man, I'm getting hungry," you remark to your friends, the weariness evident in your voice.
Inspired by a sudden burst of generosity (or perhaps guilt for dragging them into this mess), you decide to treat your friends to a meal. After all, nothing soothes the soul like some good food, right?
After successfully treating your friends, you find yourself in line for food alongside Mingyu, who seems to share your craving.
"Hey there," you greet him with a friendly smile. "Hungry after all that excitement?"
Mingyu returns the smile, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! All that adrenaline has left me starving."
As you wait in line together, a thought crosses your mind, and you decide to strike up a conversation.
"So, did you ever get that reward for your bravery?" you ask, curious about the outcome of Mingyu's daredevil feat.
Mingyu's eyes light up as he proudly displays the crisp bills in his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. "$500, baby!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable.
You nod approvingly, impressed by his reward. "Congratulations, well deserve!" you congratulate him sincerely.
As you both reach the front of the line and collect your food, you excuse yourself politely. Mingyu nods in understanding, but before you can walk away, he speaks up.
"Hey, wait!" he calls out, causing you to pause and turn back to him.
"Yeah?" you respond, curious about what he wants to say.
Mingyu's expression is earnest as he asks, "What's your name?"
You chuckle at his sudden inquiry. "It's Y/N," you reply, raising your voice slightly so he can hear over the bustling crowd.
"Got it! Thanks, Y/N!" he calls back with a smile, waving as you continue on your way back to your friends.
As the day at the theme park unfolds, you and Mingyu continue to cross paths, it seems like fate keeps bringing you together, each encounter more unexpected than the last. Eventually, the groups decided to merge into one, seamlessly blending into a single entourage of lowkey party animals.
Suddenly, one of your friends spots a photobooth and suggests giving it a try. Excited by the idea, they start pairing up for photos. Just as you're about to join in, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Mingyu standing there, a hopeful look in his eyes.
"Uhm, Y/N, do you want to take a picture with me?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
A smile spreads across your face at the unexpected invitation. "Sure, I'd love to!" you reply enthusiastically, touched by Mingyu's gesture.
As you both step into the photobooth together, the anticipation builds. The photobooth flashes and captures each moment, you and Mingyu let loose, allowing your personalities to shine through in each snapshot. The photos turn out to be a delightful mix of candid and playful moments, portraying a sense of genuine connection and warmth between you.
In one picture, you both share a laugh, caught in a moment of pure joy as you exchange playful banter. In another, Mingyu wraps his arms around your shoulder (hugging you from behind), pulling you close as you flash matching grins at the camera. Each image exudes an undeniable sense of closeness and affection, making it seem as though you're more than just friends enjoying a day out at the theme park.
As you both step out of the photobooth, you can't help but admire the adorable pictures that now serve as a tangible reminder of the bond you share with him. With a smile, you tuck the photo strip into your pocket, knowing that these snapshots will be treasured for years to come, capturing a moment that felt like love in its purest form.
As the day draws to a close at the amusement park, Mingyu musters up the courage to ask for your number, his expression hopeful yet tinged with a hint of nervousness.
"Hey, Y/N, can I have your number?" he asks, his voice soft but determined.
A warm feeling washes over you as you realize that this might be the beginning of something special. "Of course," you reply with a smile, eagerly sharing your contact information with him.
As you exchange numbers, a sense of excitement bubbles within you, and you can't help but wonder if this could be love at first sight for both of you.
__
Fast forward to the present, you find yourself holding the photobooth picture you took with Mingyu all those years ago. The memories come flooding back, and a pang of longing grips your heart as you realize just how much you miss him.
"I really miss you, my Mingoo," you murmur softly, your voice trembling with emotion. Tears gather in your eyes as you gaze at the picture, wishing desperately that he could still be with you.
Turning towards Mingyu's tombstone, you reach out a trembling hand to touch it, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I wish you were still here," you whisper, your words filled with sorrow and longing.
ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ
mingyu
161 notes · View notes
ayaboba · 6 months
Text
DAY 1: FIRST FALL OF SNOW ❅⋆⍋
summary: activities you do in the snow
characters: albedo, childe, diluc, wriothesley.
notes: wc: 260-300 per character, roughly 1.1k total, gn! reader, fluff, mentions of reader being lost in the snow in childe’s, petnames, the madness begins.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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albedo - how to build a snowman
All year round, Dragonspine is inundated with thick layers of gleaming snow.
Twinkling in weak sunlight, an ethereal sight both close-up and afar.
However, there was always something particularly striking about waking up to a fresh new coat of snow. Impeccably perfect, its raw beauty enthrals you each time. It was a privilege, you knew. Not just anyone could climb such an intimidating mountain, and the only reason you got to experience such phenomenons, the one who introduced you to this very mountain—was someone you’d never imagined to meet. Much less be more than acquaintances, a renowned genius, who currently stood completely blank in the suggestion of building snowmen.
"So, ah… I just add another pile on top?”
For the hundredth time this morning, you shake your head with an expression of amusement. “No,” you mutter, rolling the pile next to him into the shape of a sphere before placing it before him. “You need to make it into a ball shape, then place it on top. That will be its middle.” You point accordingly, an encouraging smile plastered on your face.
Albedo still doesn’t get it.
Instead, he watches silently as you enjoy yourself constructing a snowman. How interesting, creating little figures out of snow. He watches from afar as you unravel your own woollen scarf and wrap it around its uneven neck. He watches as you judge a variety of sticks to pick the most suitable to be its arms.
Albedo watches as you stand proudly beside it, a dazzling smile etching your face as he too, unravels his woollen scarf and gives it to you.
childe - snowball fights
You catch your breath behind a large cedar tree.
Was it a surprise? Surely not. Challenging Childe in any form of fight was the equivalence of battling in an arena, playful or not.
It also didn’t help that you were winning. For now, at least.
A strong gust of frosty wind brings a blizzard of newly formed snowflakes, collecting delicately on your hair and clothing. The fierce howls mask up any forms of sound, and the gradually falling snow covers up any traces of footprints.
Moreover, the temperature was severely dropping by the minute.
Perfect weather, you curse internally.
Your hands swiftly grab handfuls of the snow all around you, leaving a deep indentation in the shape of a ring all around you. Painfully obvious evidence that you were here, but at this point in time, you were more than ready to surrender. Between the choice of victory or frostbite, you’d willingly lose.
Cradling a dozen snowballs, your eyes are alert and searching as you attempt to outline any signs of a human. It’s hopeless; the wind is intensifying, swirling the frost like a snowglobe.
An anguished sigh escapes as you look down at the heavy layers of snow. Perhaps it was time to resort to something more desper-
Smack.
Something cold lands on the side of your face before falling to bits next to your feet. Another flies right past you.
You’re supposed to be mad; you’re supposed to shout and blame him for putting you in such a perilous and stupid situation, but you don’t.
As he catches you in an embrace, a contrast to everything you felt mere seconds ago, so frantic and tight, you realise how scared he was—scared enough to be rendered completely and irrevocably silent.
diluc - snow? my eyes are on you.
How long has it been?
How long have you been gazing, lost in your thoughts, through the window of your shared bedroom?
It’s quiet, but a comforting sort of quiet. The sort of quiet that you could appreciate for years and years and enjoy as if it were freshly discovered. Perhaps it was because of Diluc and the reserved and reclusive ambience he always carried. Whatever it was, you understood why he sought it so much.
Kaeya told you to expect snow tonight.
You love snow.
As soon as Diluc stepped one foot into the entrance of Dawn Winery, you had notified him most excitedly, “It’s going to snow tonight!”
You made sure not to mention that it was Kaeya who told you, though.
Being the gentleman he was, Diluc reciprocated your happiness most thoughtfully. Across the candlit dinner table, you swapped memories and dreams, all down until the last few tired murmurs sealed with a tender goodnight kiss planted on your forehead. A fond, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” as he drifted off to sleep.
Time steamed on; it must’ve been hours, according to the grandfather clock in the farthest corner of the bedroom, yet never once did your eyes stray from the window. You had long abandoned your previous sleeping position and now cozily huddled your legs, although still buried comfortably within the blankets.
Diluc seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
For a while, you observed in slight awe, the little rises in his chest as he inhaled, the serene expression decorating his face. It felt so intimate, so softly vulnerable—simply two people treasuring a moment in their lives so unknowingly—is what made it magnificent.
The first glimmers of snow lightly shimmered through the night sky as a familiarly snug hand pulled you beneath the covers.
wriothesley - ice skating
The many fountains in Fontaine had been frozen from the frigid weather, transforming the statues to behold graceful arches that glinted divinely in the feeble sunlight. Bound to be presented gloriously on the front page of the Steambird for the next three months or so.
Additionally, smaller bodies of water had completely transformed into ice, making it a perfect opportunity for extravagant winter activities. After all, Fontaine was never short of its flamboyance and charming flair when it came to anything of that sort.
That was the reason Wriothesley had spontaneously suggested going for a skate on the ice.
You had promptly declined at first, leaning over his desk, brushing the idea off with a brisk excuse of, “I can’t skate.”
Wriothesley had looked up from his stacks of documents, followed by a falsely exasperated roll of eyes, saying, “That’s what you said about dancing.”
"I'm not a very good dancer, you know that.”
“But I successfully taught you, didn’t I?" he confidently answered, standing from the overflowing desk.
You made a non-committal noise, shaking your head as Wriothesley chucked and wrapped an arm around you. “C’mon, let’s give it a try, all right, darling?”
This is precisely how you landed yourself in such a predicament.
The skates were easy enough to get on, but the process of skating, like you anticipated, was no easy skill.
Wriothesley, being the superb lover he is, let’s out a muffled snort as he watches you topple over for what could’ve only been the hundredth time that evening.
“Instead of laughing, you could actually help me like you promised, you know.”
With one last terribly hidden chortle, Wriothesley seizes your hands and gently guides your movements alongside his, careful and patient, as you both skate until the winter sunlight ebbs over the horizon.
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362 notes · View notes
andreafmn · 8 months
Text
Speak | Chapter 14
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Word Count: 4.1K
Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.
A/N: this chapter is way longer than I thought it would be and all I'm saying about it is that the next couple of chapters are gonna be a shitshow 🤭🤭 Also, tried to keep the taglist as it was and to add people, but Tumblr won't let me post the chapter with how many there are. TAGLIST CLOSED 
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Not seeing Jacob for almost three weeks had not been as catastrophic as (Y/N) had thought it would be. It had been odd, she couldn’t lie. She had gotten used to seeing him at least once or twice in a week and coming home to an empty house had been unusual. Still, it had not sent her into the comatose whirlwind her sister had fallen into after her boyfriend had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.
Charlie hadn’t questioned it at first. Mostly because (Y/N) didn’t seem any different, and she still talked to someone on the phone most days. Nothing was amiss in the eyes of the household.
Until a switch flipped inside Bella. Halfway through (Y/N)’s Jacob detox, her older sister started to disappear a couple of times a week. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, but she was happy that Bella seemed to be doing better. Whether it had been because of their father’s ultimatum or because she genuinely was starting to move on didn’t matter. (Y/N) was simply happy that her sister seemed content.
Her mind was also occupied with a certain boy and what he had done to make sure she was okay. In the days after the accident, he called her every morning and every night, reminding her to change her bandages and apply antibiotic ointment. He always asked how her bruise was doing and made sure she remembered to ice it every night. He had made her feel cared for, and he had made sure she knew that someone out there was watching out for her well-being.
The feelings that fluttered in (Y/N)’s heart were still unclear to her. She couldn’t deny the magnetism that pulled her toward Paul, and the more she got to know him, the more she understood her gravitation toward him. Just not what had spurred it on.
“Hey, (Y/N), I’m going out soon,” Bella called out. “I left some breakfast done in the microwave.”
“Where are you going?” (Y/N) asked, peering her head down the stairs.
“On a hike.”
“By yourself again?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m trying to get used to being there by myself again.”
“If you give me a couple of minutes to get ready, I could go with you. Make sure you don’t fall this time,” the younger girl offered. “I wouldn’t mind some sisterly bonding..”
“Uh, well... you know, maybe next time?” Bella stammered. “I’m kind of short on time, and I have a shift at Newton’s soon after.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Just be careful, then. Wouldn’t want another ER visit.”
“Right,” she chuckled dryly. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”
“Yeah. See you.”
Much like the past weeks, even if she was doing well, Bella seemed to be avoiding her sister. And it felt no different than when she wouldn’t speak at all. At least at that point, she would at least meet (Y/N)’s eyeline. It had sent her down a spiral as she wondered what she had done for her sister to spend as little time as she could with her.
But she had no time to dwell on her sister’s rejection. She didn’t want to. Instead, she packed a backpack full of art supplies –paints, brushes, and a canvas notebook. The items were coated with a layer of dust, left abandoned and untouched for many years.
(Y/N) had grown up loving everything artistic. It was a side Bella was not in tune with, and it had made her feel closer to her mother because of it. When they had been on the road, many a time did Renée and her youngest daughter stop by a creek or a clearing to paint the scenery before them. If they didn’t paint, they would prop up a couple of chairs and spend hours knitting or crocheting. Those were the moments she thought there would be a possibility that she and Bella could be on equal footing.
As she got ready to go, she realized there was no way she had no way of getting anywhere near the place she had in mind without a set of wheels. Her father had promised that as soon as he could, he would get her a car, but for the time being, she was stuck hitching rides with her sister to school and depending on others to drive her anywhere. She never realized how inconvenient it was to not have a car now that she was… single?
(Y/N) walked to the phone in the kitchen, dialed the number she had unknowingly memorized, and waited for a response. “Hey,” she smiled as the call was picked up. “Are you, by chance, doing anything right now?”
“Not really,” Paul said through the phone. “I should be doing homework, but I am up for anything that gets me out of it.”
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could pick me up? I was in the mood of painting in the woods, somewhere by the trailhead off the one-ten, but I have no way of getting there.”
“I’ll be there in ten.” 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you have something to do.” 
“It’s absolutely no problem, (Y/N),” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
After he hung up the phone, (Y/N) went ahead and finished packing the rest of the supplies she would need, as well as food and drinks for the trip. If she was going to make him make the trip to and from Forks, she could at least make it worth his while. In a lunchbox cooler, she placed the remaining slices of a cake she had made the week before, BLT sandwiches she quickly put together, and anything else she could find in the fridge and around the kitchen that would be good to snack on –crackers and cheese, some assorted vegetables and fruits, chips, and bottles of water and a couple of cans of soda.
By the time Paul reached her front door, she was carrying a full backpack on her back and a couple of bags in her arms. “Are you moving to the forest?” he chuckled the moment he saw her reaching for the heaviest ones. “I didn’t think this outing would be so life-changing.”
“Well, my things are on my back,” she explained. “The lunchbox is filled to the top with food and drinks, then that bag has a blanket and some other dry snacks. I might be forcing you to make this long trip, so I thought I would at least feed you in exchange.”
“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” Paul smiled softly. “But I appreciate the food. I may have also brought along some things to eat.”
“Great minds think alike, it seems,” she returned his grin. “Then, thank you for driving me. I’m sure there are a million other ways you would rather spend a Saturday.”
“Not really,” he shrugged as he opened the passenger door for (Y/N) after placing all of the bags in the back. “You honestly saved me from a very boring English paper on The Great Gatsby.”
“I actually read that book last year,” she added as Paul turned the truck on. “It’s really good once you get into the story.”
“How have you already read it? I thought you were a sophomore.”
“I didn’t read it for school,” she chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, you can read things without being graded on them and like them. It’s actually one of my favorites.”
“Then I guess I will just have to give it a fair chance,” he said. His eyes snapped to hers for a quick second before focusing on the road once more, and she couldn’t help the rush that it sent through her. “If it’s one of your favorites, then it must have some type of redeeming quality.”
“I’m sure you’ll like it,” (Y/N) smiled. “As long as you give it a chance.”
As soon as they reached the end of the dirt road that took them to the trailhead, Paul took hold of all of the bags before opening the door for (Y/N) and helping her out. And the second she went for a bag, he started walking.
“I just want to help carry something,” she called out with a chuckle as he put distance between them. “I brought most of the things.”
“Why would you have to carry anything when I’m right here?”
“Because I want to help.”
“You’d have to catch up to me to do that,” he smirked, walking backward through the trail. “Which is impossible, so I guess I’m carrying the bags.”
“I don’t even know where we should go,” she laughed, taking off in a small trot to reach him. “This is as far as I thought.”
“Good thing you have the best guide then. I’m as good at moving through the woods as I am at carrying bags.”
“Lead the way then,” (Y/N) smiled.
Paul allowed (Y/N) to catch up to him once she renounced the idea of carrying anything. She followed every step he made, wondering what destination he had in mind. The last time she had even come close to being in the midst of the trees of Washington had been when she was a child. Too many times, little (Y/N), Bella, and the Black children would escape to the woods even when Billy and Charlie had warned them many times not to.
Those were the moments she missed the most. When the only thing they were worried about was having fun and keeping their escapades from their parents. There were no complicated feelings or uncertainty in their relationships. There was no confusion or pain. No ill will or misguided intentions. They were just kids trying their best to make the most out of their summer.
When Paul finally came to a stop, (Y/N) felt a sense that she had been in that very spot before. From the rays that peeked through the treetops that reached each other to create a covering to the flat expanse of grass; from the quiet pond to the rocks that bordered its shore. She could bet almost everything she had on the fact that, if she hadn’t been there, she had seen it before.
“This is perfect,” she found herself muttering. “How did you know about this place?”
“I told you I was the best guide for these woods,” he smirked. “I know all of the best spots in these woods.”
They settled close to the pond, one of the only places the sun shined onto. In the cold of February, the warmth made that place that much more perfect. She straightened the blanket onto the ground, setting the food in one corner and the paint supplies in another, leaving the center empty for them.
(Y/N) sat first, pulling item after item from her backpack, setting them in between her and where Paul sat after. He watched her every move, curiosity filling his eyes. Especially as she handed him a piece of canvas paper and a set of brushes.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked as he eyed the items in his hands. “I can’t paint.”
“You don’t have to know how to paint to just have fun painting,” she offered. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just get very quiet and in my own head when I paint, so I thought it’d be good for you to have something to do while I basically disappear for a while.”
“I’ll give it a try then,” Paul smiled, taking back the items (Y/N) had reached for. “But you have to promise you won’t laugh at it.”
“I promise.”
The younger Swan had not been lying when she said she got quiet. As soon as her brush hit the canvas and she felt inspiration rush through her, it was as though she was by herself. Her hand moved before thoughts could fill her head. She couldn’t see or hear anything but what was coming to life in front of her. Stroke after stroke, color after color, her painting was the only thing she could think of.
Before (Y/N) knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and her painting was done. As she slowly came back into the present, she looked up for the first time since she had sat down. Paul was staring at her with something in his eyes that was there every time he looked at her. Even if she didn’t know what it was, she knew that it made her feel good.
“Hi there,” he said with a slight chuckle. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d disappear.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, growing red with embarrassment. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Nah, you’re good. It was honestly fascinating,” Paul smiled. His brown eyes looked like they were on fire under the orange sun, drawing her in like nothing ever before. “What were you working on?”
“Show me what you did first,” (Y/N) responded, shielding the canvas from his line of sight.
“It will definitely not be as good,” he frowned. “I was not blessed with this kind of artistic talent.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Show me.”
He turned his canvas paper slowly, revealing a painting that was amateurish at its best but still adorable. It seemed he had drawn the view before him. A striking blue pond with vibrant green grass, fluffy trees that met by their branches with thick dark trunks, and what seemed to be the shape of a girl looking down at a piece of paper. Anyone would have thought that a child had done it, but it made (Y/N) smile so hard it made her cheeks hurt.
“Please don’t laugh,” he said sheepishly. “I told you I’m not good at this.”
“No, it’s cute. I love it. I don’t know how, but it’s very you.”
“Very me? You mean painfully childish?”
“Oh god, no!” (Y/N) quickly corrected. “It’s fun, it’s vibrant, it’s… it’s present. Sure, I can tell it’s by a beginner, but it still speaks to the way you view the world. And it’s beautiful.”
“Woah, well, I never thought of it that way. Much less that you could say so much of such a basis painting.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at his work with different eyes. They were kinder now, appreciative of the art he had made. “Now, let’s see yours.”
Once he asked again, she turned the notebook, careful not to smear whatever parts were still wet. Paul’s eyes opened big, and his mouth fell open in amazement. On the sheet, a dark grey wolf howled back at him. Its fur was completed with a mix of yellows and oranges to give it dimension, and its head was raised to the sky as it called out. She didn’t know how she had such a vivid image of a wolf in her mind, but she loved how it had turned out.
“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he took the notebook to inspect the art closer. “I knew you could paint, but I didn’t know you could paint like a professional.”
“I would hardly call myself a professional,” (Y/N) smiled. “And it’s been years since I’ve actually painted anything. But weirdly enough, I have been able to get the image of this wolf out of my head since I got to Forks.”
“That is weird,” he coughed awkwardly. “But it’s a beautiful painting, (Y/N).”
“Keep it,” she offered. “I will probably paint many more if it’s the only source of inspiration I’ve gotten in a long time.”
“I couldn’t. It’s your work.”
“And I want you to have it,” she insisted. “Please.”
“You’re twisting my hand, but fine,” he said with fake nonchalance. “It’s really good, though, (Y/N). You’re really talented.”
“Thank you, Paul. I’m just glad it’s something that ties me to my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
(Y/N) sighed before she answered. It was a topic she had never brought up to anyone. She had never felt like she could. Not to anyone close to her, at least. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “I guess I’ve always felt like I’ve needed to fight for people’s attention. Especially my parents. Everyone just seems to gravitate toward Bella, and I’m always left in her shadow. As we grew older, I found anything artistic came easy to me, and it’s one of the only things I have over my sister.
“And I know it sounds bad, but it made me feel good that she was bad at it. My mom would always go through some moments when all she wanted to do was paint or knit or whatever, and she’d always look for me when that happened. So, I made sure I would always practice so that she would keep asking me to join her.” (Y/N) could feel tears prickling in her eyes, threatening to spill as she finally said out loud what she had been keeping inside for years. Her head fell as she stared at her fingers, her attention falling on a little piece of skin that had lifted on her thumb. “With my dad, it’s a bit more difficult though. I feel like we get along well, but right now, he’s worried about Bella, and that takes up a lot of space in his mind. And somehow, I just keep falling through the cracks.”
“You should never have to beg for anyone’s attention, (Y/N),” Paul said, wiping away a tear she had not felt fall. “Have you ever told them about this?”
“No,” she answered sheepishly. “And right now, it’s not the best time. Bella seems to be getting better, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize it.”
“But…”
“It’s okay, Paul. Really. I’m used to it by now,” she smiled as she dismissed the topic. “Now, let’s open up that lunchbox. I’m getting kind of hungry.”
She handed Paul one of the sandwiches as she placed the rest of the food and drinks between them. Not many words were exchanged between them as they ate, the boy downing most of the items at a surprising speed.
“So, tell me about your Great Gatsby assignment,” (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. “Maybe I could help you with it.”
“Well, I’m supposed to pick a central theme in the book and write how it’s presented in the story. But I’ve only gotten as far as the cover page, and the paper is due Monday.”
“Paul! You should be at home working on it! You made it sound like you had a lot more time to finish it.”
“Eh, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Okay, well, I could tell you one of my favorite themes. But I don’t know how interested you’ll be in writing about it.”
“Can’t be any worse than I already have,” he shrugged. “So, go ahead. Tell me about The Great Gatsby.”
“Well, I’ve always found the use of love and romance in the book very interesting,” she started, setting her food down on her lap as she got into what she was saying. “There’s this big debate on whether Daisy actually loved Gatsby, but I don’t think that’s the right question. What we are looking for in the story is whether Daisy loves Gatsby more than she loves wealth and status. Which, spoiler alert, she does not. Regardless of how Tom treats her, she stays with him because of what he can give her. She may have been infatuated with Gatsby, but the second something better came along, she forgot all about him. Until he shows up with money, and suddenly he’s at the top of her list. But new money can never be as strong as old money.
“Now, there’s the question of whether Gatsby is in love with Daisy, which is a completely different side of the same coin,” (Y/N) continued, settling more into her position. “I would say he isn’t. He is in love with this idea of Daisy that she simply is not. She’s cold and materialistic, and she’s only driven by what others can give her. She wants an easy life that she knows she will never get from Gatsby. Sure, he would never hurt her or cheat on her like Tom has, but she can never part with the simplicity she gets by staying with Tom. The Great Gatsby is painted as this unfortunate romance, filled with forbidden love and circumstantial obstacles, but truly it’s about a cunning woman that loves money and excitement more than she loves the men in her life.”
At that moment, (Y/N) didn’t note the irony of the story and how closely it related to her own situation. She didn’t feel like a Gatsby or a Daisy, much less did she see how she had her own version of Tom. But Paul drank each of her words like they were honey spilling from her lips. Not because he particularly cared about the story but because she loved it.
“You know what, you’ve actually convinced me to read the book,” he smiled before taking the last bite of his sandwich. “Don’t know if I’ll finish it by Monday, but I will definitely try.”
(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as a dollop of mayonnaise smeared on his cheek. She tried to point out where it was, but his comically outstretched tongue could not get to where it was. “Here,” she chuckled. She pulled a napkin out of the bag and wiped away the stain as they laughed. “Much bet…”
Suddenly, a rustling startled them, followed by laughter. For a moment, (Y/N) had forgotten that she was in the middle of the woods and that anyone could walk by at any moment. The pair got up on their feet, cautiously following where the sound came from while shielding themselves from view. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.
Bella and Jacob were coming down the trail, walking side by side as they talked and laughed. They had no idea they were being watched at that moment, and they were acting as much. Jake offered Bella his arm after she buckled in her step, and she gladly took it. And all she could think of was how that should have been her; that Bella should not have been the one to be holding onto Jake.
At that point, (Y/N) couldn’t hold her tears back anymore. It seemed that Jacob had decided that their relationship was over, and he was gladly moving on with the person that was closest to her. It made her heart wrench inside of her chest, shattering whatever hope still remained inside her. She didn’t know when it had happened, but her knees gave up on her, and she could only stay up by the hold Paul had on her.
But she couldn’t blame her sister. Not entirely, at least. (Y/N) hadn’t confided in her sister about any of the problems she’d had with Jake, and they had been friends long before (Y/N) had come back to Forks. Still, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the fact that her sister would lie to her about spending time with her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend?
Paul made a move to walk toward them, possibly to try and confront them, but (Y/N) stopped him, pleading with her eyes to wait until they were gone. “Why didn’t you let me go after them?” the boy asked the second the others were out of view. “Don’t you want to know why he’s been avoiding you and why the hell your sister is with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffled. “Jake made it clear that he didn’t want to be with me if I couldn’t get Embry to leave you guys, and he’s just making good on his promise. And Bella doesn’t even know about all of that. He definitely didn’t tell her.”
“Then, why didn’t you expose him to her? Don’t you want her to know what he did?”
“(Y/N)…”
“Just take me home, please?” she asked. Her eyes were filling with new tears, and her lips quivered as she tried with all her might not to let them fall. “I just want to go home.”
“Alright,” Paul conceded.
They packed everything in silence, the air around them shifting and thickening. Long gone was the comfortable sunny day, now replaced with a coldness that seeped through their bones. All (Y/N) wanted now was to go back home and sink into her bed sheets. Seeing Jacob and Bella together had hurt her a lot more than not seeing him at all.
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sxcret-garden · 8 months
Text
ღ Ateez Wooyoung x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~1.1k ღ genre: smut (dom!Wooyoung, quickie, unprotected sex, some biting, hair pulling (idol receiving), fwb) ღ warnings: none ღ prompts: “Shh. there’s people in the other room.” + “We have to make this quick.”
(requested)
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“You sure you’re ready? We have to make this quick…” You nod at Wooyoung’s words as his lips ghost over your neck, his chest pressed up against yours and you sitting on the counter of Seonghwa’s kitchen. You were supposed to have a fun game night with the guys, but instead of being able to focus on any of those games, Wooyoung had been consistently throwing you looks and teasing you with light touches when nobody else was looking to the point you were both so frustrated that eventually you had dragged him away from the others and snuck into this room by yourselves.
And now he’s positioning himself in front of you, your legs spread apart and your whole body aching to finally have him fuck you, clothes torn off of the both of you just enough so you could get to the point fast and put them right back on afterwards. You suppress a moan as he pushes into you, and you can see him sinking his teeth into his bottom lip for the same exact purpose. Your arms wrapped around him, you dig your fingertips into the fabric of his shirt where it covers his shoulders instead. You can feel his muscles dance through the thin layer as you drag your nails down his back, and he whispers,
“I won’t hold back.” And then, just before he starts thrusting, he adds, “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.”
“You’ve been driving me crazy all evening…” you respond, equally as quiet, breathing heavily as he rolls his hips into yours. His hand finds its way down between your bodies to give your clit some stimulation, and at the sudden increase in pleasure, you whine a curse while burying your face in his neck.
“Shh, there’s people in the other room,” Wooyoung reminds you, and you draw a stifled noise out of him as you sink your teeth into his flesh in response.
“I know, idiot…” you hiss at him, and he picks up the pace, almost as if to punish you for calling him that. You love bickering with him usually, but when you’re fucking you love it even more when he puts you in your place. “Fuck…” you mouth as you’re clinging to him, the adrenaline from doing this in secret mixing with the pleasure is making you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. One of your hands finds its way up into his hair, fingertips brushing through the short locks as he keeps going at a steady pace.
“Don’t make a single noise or I’m not gonna let you cum,” he sharply whispers, and you nod. Instead, you pull on his hair whenever you feel you can’t take having to be silent anymore, earning yourself a glare from him. You know you’re not making this any easier on him either, and you take pride in the little control you have over your friend.
Wooyoung eventually slams his lips against yours, kissing you with fervour in an attempt to give himself another outlet instead of the groans he keeps holding back. Parting your lips with his tongue, his kiss burns like fire, and as you can feel yourself drawing near to the edge, you eventually moan into the kiss.
“I said not a single noise,” he reminds you, stopping all his motions at once and catching his breath.
“Please…” you whimper so quietly you’re sure the others couldn’t have possibly heard you, and you shoot him a pleading look. “Wanna cum on your cock…” you add, and you can immediately see the way your words affect him. He thinks for but a moment, before deciding you really don’t have the time for any games right now.
“Fuck this,” he mutters a curse. “Bite your hand or something if you can’t keep quiet otherwise…” And then he keeps going, almost causing you to cry out as he thrusts all the way back inside you. Clinging to him with one hand, you retrieve the other and pull up your sleeve with your teeth in a hurried motion, knowing it won’t take him long to make you cum at this rate. And then you sink your teeth into your arm, a sharp pain distracting you from the pleasure for a mere second, before you begin to see your high fast approaching. You hold on for as long as you can as he fucks you quick and hard, and when you finally come undone, a single muffled moan escapes you. Clenching around him as he keeps fucking you to prolong your orgasm, you can eventually feel him spilling inside you too.
You stay in your positions for a short while to catch your breath, then he pulls out and reaches for some paper towels across the counter to clean yourselves up a bit. Just as you’re putting your clothes back on and helping each other make sure you at least don’t look like you just fucked, someone tries to open the door you had locked beforehand, followed by a knock.
“Guys, you okay in there?” Yunho, who must’ve seen you walk into the kitchen, asks and both you and Wooyoung are quick to respond with a yes.
“Y/N wasn’t feeling well, so…” he makes up an explanation. “I must’ve accidentally locked the door when coming in here. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He opens it as you both get ready to go back to the others, and Yunho raises his eyebrows as he looks at you.
“Oh, you’re really not looking too good. Are you okay?” You nod quickly, but then you grab Wooyoung’s sleeve to make him halt.
“Actually… I think it’d be better if he takes me home,” you say, and your friend immediately agrees, brushing his hair back as he suddenly can’t tear his gaze away from you, knowing exactly what you’re up to. Saying hurried goodbyes to the rest of the guys who all seem surprised by your sudden departure, you finally drag Wooyoung out of the apartment. Approaching the elevator to take you to the ground floor, you impatiently press the button for the door to open, and as you’re stepping inside, he’s already pushing you up against the wall of the cabin, his lips meeting yours in a rough kiss.
“I hope this means round two when we’re at your place?” he assumes, gaze hungrily staring at your mouth.
“Yeah,” you breathe, before pulling him in for another heated kiss. “I sure as fuck hope so.”
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russellsppttemplates · 4 months
Note
have you seen the Lando videos from Finland? it would be so cute to see his Y/N be with him and interact with the fans 🥹
"Are you sure you're warm enough, baby?", Lando chuckled as he saw you add another layer, the cosy scarf going around your neck making you look deliciously cute all bundled up as you prepared to leave the hotel. "I'm ready to face the outside temperatures!", you cheered, flashing him a thumbs up in your glove covered fingers, the smile beaming as you got ready for another day of exploring.
You had been walking around for a little while, pointing out cute decorations on the shops' windows, "there's a group of girls headed on this direction, and they're looking at you, so I'm assuming they're your fans", you noted, squeezing his hand that was laced in yours, "do you mind that? I can tell them that-", you were quick to interrupt him, "you will do no such thing, because one, I know you don't want to do that, and two, I don't want you to do that, I'll just stay a bit to the side while you take your time", you smiled, allowing him to kiss the tip of your nose before the group approached you.
"Hi, Lando! We were wondering if we could take a picture with you, if that's okay", one of them said as you unlaced your hands, "yes, sure!", Lando said as he posed for them. The group was quite big and the first girl to take the picture approached you, "Hi, Y/N", she smiled sweetly, "Hi", you waved, seeing another girl join her, "are you guys enjoying the town?", she wondered.
"Yes, it's very pretty and cute! I've fallen in love with all these little corners", you beamed, "the only thing is this cold", you chuckled, "It can get pretty bad of you don't snuggle up warm", one of them offered loudly enough for your boyfriend to hear, rubbing her hands, "here, take this end of my scarf", you offered, hoping it would help her warm up.
"No one would say Y/N was worried about the cold, right?", your boyfriend teased as he took one last selfie, "little miss Michelin doll, she is", he joked, "shut up, I'm keeping us warm, too, see?".
"We have this gift for you, as well", she said, getting a hug from your boyfriend as a thank you, "we hope you enjoy these days here!", they said as they bid goodbye.
"While you were warming her hands up, the girl that gave me the present told me that they think we're a nice fit for eachother", Lando began, "and that you looked really cute, which I also agree with", he giggled, the blush on his cheeks hard to differentiate from being cold or being caught in his feelings.
"They were really kind and nice", you concluded, "now, Mr I'm so cool I don't need gloves, how about some hot chocolate? Your fingers are getting cold, handsome", you added, kissing his fingertips.
Surely, the pictures and videos were up that afternoon, along with the small innocent moment of Lando giggling as you kissed each of his fingers.
(Thank you for your submission ✨️)
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justporo · 4 months
Note
Could I request no. 44 (Public Kisses) please?
Maybe the kisser proving the kissee that they don’t care who’s watching and that they’re proud to be with them
(with either Astarion being worried about Tav being seen with ‘an undead’ or Durge worrying about Star being seen with a Bhaalspawn).
Thank you!
Last one for the kiss prompts - allow me to take the "not caring who watches" a bit further even. I fully didn't intend this to become this long (like always...) but here we are... Oh, and then I edited it and it became even longer. Enjoy Tav making clear they belong to Astarion and vice versa!
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) | Wordcount: 2,2k | Warnings: light mention of violence / Act 2 spoilers
MASTERLIST | AO3
Affirmations
Everyone was staring - all the time.
It wasn't enough already that, entering Moonrise Towers again, meant venturing deep into the lion's den. But to add to this you couldn't even go unnoticed.
Of course not, you were a True Soul! In touch with the Absolute itself! Destined for great things! So there wasn't a single moment without a pair of eyes upon you. And you hated it - deeply.
Quite frankly, it seemed like the primary requisite to becoming a cultist of the Absolute was being way too fucking nosey. But you had to be honest with yourself you were at least partly to blame with the scene you had caused with this godsdamned drow yesterday.
Just thinking about her made your blood boil again. Just the way she had looked at you, but most of all Astarion. The arrogance, the unquestioned privilege - it immediately conjured another wave of bile rising up within you.
If not for the sake of the greater mission you would have very much liked shredding her to pieces so she would have never been able to even look at Astarion again. You would have done it with a pleasant smile on your face. But alas, it would have only complicated matters even further
Your visceral reaction had been surprising even to you. Normally you weren’t one for excessive blood shed. Actually you much more liked solving things without weapons: talking your way out of situations, tricking others. That was much more your style. But your bloodlust, brought on by a powerful urge to protect Astarion, had almost taken the better of you yesterday.
It had shaken you; not least  your companions as well - and most of all Astarion.
All the way back to camp the vampire had been barely able to hide his wild mix of feelings - shock, admiration, insecurity. You had felt his wide red eyes on you the whole time and had known that something was about to happen. A tipping point had been reached.
But you hadn't even remotely been prepared for what had followed when Astarion had approached you when everyone else had already retired to their tents for the evening.
On the other end of the night the two of you had come out with a new layer added to your bond: fresh still, barely fully formed - but fueled by both of your deep desires to hold onto the other and not let go.
Immediately, it had been weird for the two of you after. The next morning you had barely been able to look at each other. Simply because this was daunting for either of you. Hells, not even the two of you knew how to go on from this but you were determined to make it work. And unsteadiness had quickly turned to small glances, short touches in passing as you all got ready for a new day ahead, affirming smiles - and some suspicion from your fellow companions.
When you had made your way back to the godsdamned towers you had felt uneasiness rise up again, tendrils of negative feelings forming a tight knot in your chest.
And in an overly brave moment you had grabbed for Astarion's hand when you had been about to enter the towers again - repeating a gesture from last night. Wishing to feel same kind of warmth and steadiness again and also relaying the same sentiment to the vampire you saw slightly nervously move his head to loosen the tension in his neck.
It had made the vampire almost recoil as he looked at you with shocked wide eyes and you were sure you had heard a surprised gasp from your other companions behind you. But when you had tried to let go again, immediately regretting your short-circuit action, you found that Astarion had been lightly holding on to your hand and had thrown you a small smile. You would have called it coy with anyone else but him.
The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed by Lae’zel whose eyes had been steadily narrowed at the both of you from there on out.
Only when you had come across the first guards had Astarion let go, but not without squeezing your hand in his a last time. 
You had stayed close to each other walking through the headquarters of the Absolute, trying to investigate this damned place further. An unsettling feeling was filling all of you but the only thing you could do was trying to pull through.
In the main hall - Ketheric's throne thankfully empty - most of the cultists had gathered for some strategy discussion. So, an excellent opportunity to listen in on them and maybe find someone to squeeze for some more information.
Thankfully, Gale and Shadowheart had somewhat taken the lead today giving you and Astarion some time to recover from everything that had happened. You were standing next to the vampire - your partner now, you reminded yourself - stealing glances up at him from time to time. He usually caught you while he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, throwing you a small smile in response that always made you turn away again, slightly blushing. But then you also noticed him peering at you out of the corner of his eyes. And despite your dire situation as a whole you couldn’t help but feel a little giddiness inside of you - maybe all wasn’t lost after all.
At the moment, Gale was talking to another higher-up drow, trying to convince her to give up some more details about Ketheric Thorm. She very much was having none of it, but the wizard kept deliberately trying. Shadowheart, meanwhile, did next to nothing to keep him from verbally digging his own grave.
It was then that you felt the hairs of your neck stand up and felt someone staring at you. With a sinister suspicion, you turned to look over your shoulder to find: Araj Oblodra looking at you angrily. The drow from the day before was openly staring at the two of you, after having just entered the hall, wearing a massive displeased snarl on her face.
You immediately felt your own face sour, a deep fold forming between your furrowed brows. At your negative reaction Astarion’s brows drew together quizzically and he looked over his shoulder as well. When he found what you were looking at his nose scrunched up in distaste, mirroring you closely. You even heard a low growl rumble in his chest. Had he been unsure yesterday how to react you had worked wonders to help him draw a line. Astarion’s repulsion was radiating off him, almost physical.
The drow kept staring. And so did you - not willing to give her the impression that her presence was bothering you.
Moments became minutes while Gale kept rambling with some half-hearted support from Shadowheart (the rest of the group staying painfully silent). Meanwhile, others noticed the silent staring contest across the room. Even more pairs of eyes were observing you now. Probably everyone here knew to the tiniest detail what had gone down yesterday. And the longer this moment was drawn out, the more you felt your grip on your emotions slip. One of your hands had formed into a fist at your side - nails biting into the flesh of your palm and leaving crescent moon indents behind.
Then an idea, or just an impulse really, sprung to your mind. Your eyes jumped to Astarion who was still staring down Araj through his brows, crimson eyes sparkling dangerously. One of his hands had casually wandered to the dagger at his side, wrist languidly resting on its hilt. A leisure threat, but an open one.
“Astarion,” you whispered silently to him, “you trust me, yes?”
The vampire’s brows furrowed a bit more, gaze flitting to you, then back to the drow still glaring at you.
“Of course, my love. Why-,” he began and quickly looked at you again. Then he interrupted himself. He must’ve seen your intention on your face and now he turned his head to fully look at you. His fingers unconsciously clenched around the pommel of his dagger now, focused on something entirely else than making barely hidden threats.
You threw him a questioning glance as you took a deep breath. He lightly nodded, a soft smile curling up one side of his mouth while he turned to you.
And then, before you would get too scared, you moved to grab Astarion’s face with both hands, stepped even closer to him and stood on your tiptoes to reach for his lips with your own.
There was another short moment before your mouths met in the kiss: his full lips slightly parting, his eyes open almost vulnerable, glinting with something much different from the anger before, if not less passionate.
A shaky breath left you as you stared up at him. You knew you must be pretty much mirroring his expression at this moment.
And you were sure that this, all of this, had been the right decision.
Then your lips met. A sigh immediately wandered from your mouth to his as Astarion kissed you open-mouthed, softly opening up yours. Then his tongue shortly ran over your lips, then entered your mouth, taking up yours in a dance you were already familiar with.
Astarion’s arms moved around you. He placed his hands on your hips but immediately let them wander to your behind to pull you closer to him, making you almost slam into his body. You felt him grinning as he did that. A yelp left your mouth, pleasantly surprised by his initiative, but didn’t break the kiss for a single moment.
You had done this dozens over dozens of times, almost the exact same motions. It had been enticing and electrifying each time, enjoying each time it had happened.
But this was different. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You were making it very official what you were to each other. Not only to your friends but for the whole world to see. And in that sense it felt very much like a first kiss altogether.
The passion was there, as Astarion kept deepening the kiss, turning his head, looking at you intensely as you batted your eyes open for a short moment. His hands were stroking up and down your back while yours had entered his hair, tugging on some curls, pulling his head closer.
Somewhere in the middle you had almost forgotten that you weren’t alone. You felt him smile as you desperately wanted to keep going. Gods, you never wanted to let go again.
But Astarion slightly withdrew, his lips hovering slightly over yours, looking at you through his lashes. His voice was sinful. “Think we’ve given them enough of a show, darling?”
You frowned, shook your head. And without another word you pulled him in again as you heard a low laughter from him vibrate through his chest and by proxy through your body as well. He was intoxicating and he knew it. You’d given him the room to start feeling good about it. And you were merely getting started.
The kiss went on for another few moments although becoming softer now, slower. Less a show than a treat for the two of you. Then you softly lifted your mouth from his and looked up at him: breathless and a little shaky now, but a wicked smile already forming on your lips from the passionate kiss as you were still on your tiptoes.
Astarion mirrored your smirk before he pressed a quick peck to the tip of your nose - in just a whim of the moment. His arms were still firmly around you, holding you close to him. You kept smiling at him.
And then your smile grew icy and vicious as you turned to Araj who was looking at you in shock now. You let your tongue run over your bared teeth as you kept up the eye contact, daring her. And eventually the drow turned away, unsettled while your grin grew even broader.
You noticed that almost everyone else around you had also turned away from the public show of passionate affection. Only some still dared to look at you out of the corner of their eyes.
A victorious smile crept onto your face as you looked at Astarion again who looked at you with his signature smirk and a keen sense of pride he didn’t even try to hide.
Then, after a while, you turned to the other side.
And were faced with your friends staring at you in disbelief, just blinking at the two of you. Even the unshakable Lae’zel looked slightly irritated, not being able to hold your gaze for long
“Hot!” Karlach exclaimed, her expression of shock quickly turning to a smug, broad grin. And in true Karlach fashion she gave you a thumbs-up and a wink - causing you to blush and bite your lip. “Get a tent, am I right?”
You must have gone a little overboard with your public display of your newly formed bond. Your heart dropped a little. But Astarion only softly laughed at that and affectionately bit into the tip of your pointy ear. Seemingly the ice for public displays of affection had been broken for him - with a cannonball.
“So, you guys are official now?”, Wyll asked while cocking his head, looking kind of sceptical. Shadowheart just rolled her eyes, while Gale seemed stuck in a state of being too flustered to react.
“I guess you could say that, little lord”, Astarion answered, grinning smugly, one eyebrow twitching and pulled you to his chest again with one arm casually around your waist. He couldn’t keep a proud tone out of his voice as he looked down at you again.
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bsxcrxts · 10 months
Text
sheer
minors dni. this work is explicit. do not interact without your age in your bio. you must be over 18 to interact with my works.
Visual inspo
a/n: about 700 words of Steve Harrington having a thing for sheer tights and your thighs! enjoy!
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okay hear me out. you know those sheer tights that were all the rage in the 80s? well obviously Steve Harrington loves those.
maybe he’s pavlov’d himself, since you mostly wear them when he treats you to expensive dates that usually end with him inside you, but the second you get a pair on, he can’t stop looking at your legs, imagining them wrapped around his waist. the two of you have ripped countless sets in the heat of your passion. he buys you new ones.
it gets even worse when the two of you have been dating long enough that you start getting ready in front of him. maybe you’re running late to a dinner reservation and you’re only half-dressed, frantically searching the room for that one skirt that you really like in nothing but your bra and translucent black tights.
Steve doesn’t know why but he’s just suddenly obsessed with your legs. sure, he likes your body all the time, but your skirts always hide the junction of your thighs, and usually when the two of you get back from a date, he’s rushing to take the pair of tights off, not enjoy what they look like on. but right now, all he can think about is your tights, the way your skin tone peeks through where they’re stretched around the tops of your thighs. 
he knows the material is soft, silky even. he’s imagining the feel of it, and before he can stop himself, he’s catching you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss that turns dirty instantly. you protest only a little, insisting you’ll be late, you’re trying to get ready, and what are you doing, Steve? but it all becomes so obvious when he grinds against you.
“sorry honey,” he breathes, looking at you with his big pleading brown eyes. “you look so pretty,” he adds.
“why are you sorry?” you tease.
“because we’re definitely about to miss dinner,” he notes. 
“rather stay home with you, if that’s what you want,” you say, running your hand along the outline of his hard cock in his slacks. 
he promises to get another dinner reservation for the next weekend before he stops you from shoving your tights off and down your legs. you’re confused for a moment, but that’s all the time you get to think before his hand is cupping your pussy, lightly placing pressure on your clit over the layer of your tights.
“Steve,” you whine and lean into him, grasping his arms to hold yourself steady. 
 “oh you liked that, hm? can feel you getting wet f’ me even through these,” he says, pulling at the material and letting it snap back against your skin. you jump a little bit at the feeling. “y’ look so good. so, so good honey. can I try something?”
you’re nodding against him, stuttering out a yes, and almost instantly Steve’s hand flies to the button on his pants, pulling himself out. he slots his cock between your legs, slipping against your clothed pussy, the smooth softness of the tights making him choke out a groan as he feels you clench your thighs around him. 
he grabs at your ass, fucking your thighs with hardly any self control. you can feel the fabric on the insides of your thighs grow wet with his pre cum, every thrust bumping his cock against the seam of the tights and into an addicting friction across your clit, just enough to tease you towards your completion.
you moan and it sets something off in Steve.
he’s completely falling apart. he’s never felt anything like it on his cock, the sensation of the sleek fabric against him a completely new experience, your gorgeous thighs and pussy surrounding his dick so well, and he tells you as much:
“wanna buy you a tiny little mini skirt so I can see more of you like this all the time.”
and
“g-god, you’re perfect, letting me use you like this.”
and
“squeezing my cock so good. press your thighs together honey, just a little tighter.”
 he can hardly stop talking at all, blinded by his pleasure yet shocked at himself– he isn’t even inside you and yet it’s so much, it’s so good, and it isn’t long before he’s cumming, the drips of his spend staining the tights across your ass, thighs, and dripping down your legs.
he’s ruined tights before, of course. ripped them off you, torn them accidentally or purposefully, but this is so different, and you feel so claimed by him. you can’t wait for the chance for him to do it again.
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Text
LASL Building a SnowMan
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Law
Law watched from the distance as his lover was helping his crew create a snowman. The Heart Pirate crew surrounded you, as they started working on the base of the snowman, the snow was just the right constituency for the snow to hold. He watched as you blew on your fingers and rubbed them together, the cold getting to you. You had forgotten you gloves in the Tang.
He held out his hand, “Room,” he whispered holding a rock in his hand, a dome surrounded him and the Tang, “Shambles,” he threw the rock in the air, and it replaced with your gloves. He called your name, distracting you as you had your fingers dug deep into Bepo’s fur trying to stay warm.
You blinked surprised when your gloves landed in your hand and stared at Law who nodded. It caused you to blush and look of course your captain was looking out for you, you were his cremate he would do that with everyone.
“Captain, bring me my scarf as well,” Shachi called out, “I am feeling a bit cold,” Law raised, and Penguin elbowed his friend Shaking his head.
“You know he only will only help, Y/N,”  Shachi said teasing their captain causing the both of you to blush.
“We should add Captain’s hat to the snowman,” you joked running towards your captain. The snowman was finished Law stopped you his fingers tangling with your hand stopping you.
“I think there are better hats to put on,” he kissed your forehead.
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Ace
Ace smiled at you as both of you were patting the snowman trying to round out his body, his fingers every once in a while, brushing over yours to bring warmth to your fingers. He would blush and move his finger away apologizing to you before both of you finished rounding out the body.
Your snowman was nearly done all that was missing was a few accessories.  He stepped back as the snowman was a bit lumpier than expected, you could clearly see Ace’s hand prints as he ran on higher heat thanks to his devil fruit.
You rubbed your fingers together blowing on them to keep them warm as the chill was starting to get to you even as you were wrapped up in several layers of clothes. You took a step closer to Ace taking in the warmth his body radiated.
Ace was scratching his head, “I think he is messing something,” he said.
“He needs a hat and some freckles,”  You joked pocking Ace’s cheek causing him to blush a bit.
He wrapped his arms around your waist his head resting on your shoulder, “I think we can add those extra touches…in a minute,” he saw you shiver and deiced to share his body heat.
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Sabo
Sabo was helping you build a snowman, as you and him were finishing the final touches to the face. He put the button eyes and wrapped the scarf around the snowman. He kept you entertained with stories about his brothers and his childhood in the winter.
“I had to fight Luffy not to eat the yellow snow,” he said straightening the scarf of the snowman. He had found one of his old hats from his child hat, “but in the end managed to take a bite into it before he spit out,” he laughed at the memory of his little brother so eager to try lemon snow thanks to a lie Ace told him.
You laughed as he shared his memories, he had surprised you when he invited you to build a snowman with him. He had such a boyish charm to him it was hard to say no. It wasn’t shocking when he was organized and had everything ready and knew the greatest spot.
He always shared stories of his childhood whenever he planned a date, it kept you entertained. You finished putting the buttons on for the snowman and gave him a gentle pat.
“Did you ever try yellow snow?” You teased.
His cheeks became a lovely shade of pink answering your question. You giggled a bit kissing his cheek as he wrapped one arm around your waist and rested his head on top of yours, “I am feeling for hot chocolate now,” he said admiring the snowman.
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Luffy
Luffy was once again throwing adding another body to the snowman as your guy’s snowman was having strange round body looking more like a caterpillar that was somehow balancing.  “How about a bucket for a hat?” Luffy questioned his body wrapping around the snowman and balancing on and not having it and not break it.
“Sure,” you answered as you smiled at him, you have long given up on putting any sort any of the vegetables for the face.
Luffy grabbed a bucket from the table and placed it on top of the snowman both of you created. It was a competition between the Straw hats as they formed teams. Luffy choosing you right away wrapping his rubbery body on yours. It caused your heart to race as your captain chose to rub his cheeks next to yours.
“You call that a snowman,” Ussop called out having a more elegant snow sculpture, “That thing can barely stand right,” he taunted.
“Yeah but at least, he is standing,” Luffy said throwing a snowball at Ussop knocking the poor boy into his sculpture. Luffy chuckled before your guy’s snowman started crumbling thanks to the uneven weight.
“Luffy,” you shouted as both of you laying under a pile of snow. Your snowman was no more all was left was the hat and scarf.
“I am sorry,” Luffy said wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you as he still chuckling. He pushed you closer and soon the both of your laughing.
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andypantsx3 · 5 months
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READY OR KNOT | 1 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.6k, 1st of 7 chapters
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Tetsutetsu’s apartment was exploding with people by the time you made it in from the cold.
Even from outside, you could hear the chatter of dozens of voices, the thumping bass of a distant party playlist. The front door was practically wedged shut by all the bodies blocking it, and you had to suck in a breath as you squeezed yourself through, slithering through what seemed to be every single employee of the Pink Riot agency—a plethora of bulky pro heroes stuffed in among lanky support techs and sleepy-eyed case analysts.
Inside, it stank of warm beer with a slightly sweeter, sharper liquor undertone. Your nose wrinkled. You could only imagine what the scent was like to your alpha and omega coworkers, grateful you had a beta’s dulled sense of smell, and no innate reaction to the physical proximity of other secondary genders. The space was already almost overwhelming as it was, the press of people nearly claustrophobic, although no one else looked like they minded much.
You shoved yourself through the crowd, squeezing through people, somewhat regretting how late you’d gotten here. You hoped there was still something good to drink.
In your defense, you’d gotten bogged down with a bombshell of a new case at the agency, something Mina had pulled you aside to talk about on your way out to the party. She’d meant for you to pick it up Monday, as you couldn’t take any action until a supervising hero had been assigned to you. But it was so unlike any other case you’d been handed in your years at Pink Riot that you’d immediately yanked your coat back off and holed yourself up at your desk, poring over the information in shock.
The case file told you that there was a rogue pro hero harassing and assaulting the omegas in Bunkyo ward—the very ward the Pink Riot agency operated in.
What was more, local authorities suspected someone from the agencies within Bunkyo itself, considering the attacks were exclusively confined to the ward and had so far never deviated. The police had been alerted to the fact that a hero might be involved when one of the omegas who had been attacked last night had escaped, shaken but untouched, and reported their aggressor attempting to strap quirk suppressors on them—tech that was almost exclusively a tool of the heroics trade.
And so all Bunkyo-based agencies had been asked to internally investigate their heroes, with mandatory out-of-agency supervising heroes to be assigned to the cases as well, to ensure everything was above board and no cover ups were being staged. And you, as Mina’s personal friend and therefore the case analyst she trusted most with a sensitive file like this, had been assigned the task.
And it was already almost too mind-boggling for you to bear.
You plowed your way towards the kitchen, eager to chase away the idea of any of your hero coworkers as the perpetrator. You liked and trusted all of the heroes Pink Riot had on call, and hoped so desperately that another agency was at fault here. You couldn’t imagine a single one of them being responsible for something like this. You couldn’t imagine the harasser themself attending this very party.
Once in the kitchen, you discovered that Tetsutetsu had invited more than just the Pink Riot agency itself—he had also apparently invited a plethora of heroes from his former UA days. Sero Hanta and Uraraka Ochako were propped up in the kitchen with Mina and Kirishima, smiling and chatting, while Iida Tenya stood next to them, looking, as usual, like he was on the verge of a hernia. Monoma Neita was skulking in a corner, along with a couple of lower-level heroes you recognized as Tetsu’s Class B friends.
Mina perked up immediately when she caught sight of you, hopping off the counter at Kirishima’s side, beckoning you closer with a hot pink nail.
“You have to taste this disgusting thing Tetsu made,” she told you gleefully, gesturing at something vaguely gelatinous on the stove. You recoiled reflexively, even as Mina ladled a generous portion into a plastic cup for you, passing it over.
You did not like the weight of it in your hand—and the smell of it, even to your duller senses, was not exactly appetizing, more nail polish remover in profile than anything.
“Wow, this looks almost as lovely as the new case file. How generous of you,” you intoned, taking a small, investigative sip. The taste zipped down your spine all the way to your toes, so alcoholic you could almost taste an emergency room visit.
But it figured. Pro heroes in general were a hard bunch to get drunk, their metabolisms fast and their bodies honed to withstand limits a normal person could never. You imagined this was Tetsu’s own invention based on years of personal research.
Mina sloshed her own cup at you, bright-eyed as she normally was, but otherwise looking unruffled. “Tetsu and Eiji already have a bet going which of them can put back more of this, but my bet is on me,” she grinned. “They’re behind a cup already.”
You winced. “Such responsible agency heads I have.”
Mina practically cackled. “You love it.”
You couldn’t help the fond smile that pulled at your mouth, listening to her bright laughter. “I do.”
And it was true, after years at the Pink Riot agency you were spoiled for anywhere else.
Your caseload was broad and interesting, Mina and Kirishima the perfect amount of invested but trusting, always caring about the results you brought in for the safety they brought Bunkyo ward, but never micromanaging you or demanding the impossible. The agency was a little bit smaller than other agencies founded by members of their former class—a mid-sized, fairly-closely knit operation that prioritized action and minimized bureaucracy.
And it was a sort of family operation. Mina was an omega, small and bright and totally beautiful the way so many omegas were, the warmness of her personality like a magnet. And Kirishima was her bonded alpha—fairly friendly and easy-going for one, you thought—but strong, firm in his resolve, and deeply committed.
You liked them, liked their relationship, and liked how their traits translated to their management of their joint agency. You liked how the agency had basically sprung up around them, filled to the brim with good people. And so yeah, Mina was right. You did love it.
“Make sure you unwind,” Mina ordered you, flashing a pink nail in your face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that it’s been like two hours since I saw you disappear with that case file.”
Your cheeks heated. “Did you know some agency heads like it when their employees do their jobs?”
Mina grinned wickedly, then made a sort of clucking noise. “Did you know that some agency heads are no funsies? I like when my employees do their jobs and still have time for a social life.”
A smile tugged at your mouth. Your social calendar had never been so full as when you started working at Pink Riot, their rosters absolutely packed with outgoing heroes. Someone or other was always throwing a party, organizing a celebratory dinner when an especially big case was closed, or dashing across the floor yelling “drinks on me!” after nailing a particularly notorious villain.
Between the agency and your own friends you thought you were kept rather busy. But the sudden, shifting look of undue interest on Mina’s face told you she thought otherwise.
“When was the last time you went on a date, hmm?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. “I never catch you smelling like anyone. Looking for anyone here?”
“And who told you you could smell me?” you demanded.
Mina cackled. “It’s not like I can turn my nose off. Plus you smell nice and comforting. Very beta. I wouldn’t stop smelling you even if I could.”
Your ears went hot. Alphas and omegas were always so nosy and inquisitive, a byproduct of being able to smell way too much for your comfort, a fact you and your circle of beta friends never missed a chance to bemoan.
And this was not the first time you’d been told as much, most betas apparently smelling some level of chill and less intrusive than the insistent scents of alphas and omegas. You didn’t exactly understand how something could smell chill, but enough people had said it that you accepted it.
“Well then it’s good I’m not polluting that with other smells,” you said. “Now mind your business.”
Mina’s grin was sharp as she reached over to ladle more of Tetsu’s concoction into your cup, a small revenge. “Fine but keep your options open tonight! I know plenty of nice beta boys I can set you up with—there’s a couple of analysts from Ingenium’s crowd here tonight.”
You nodded, affecting sincerity, although you had absolutely no plan to follow through. You were going to find your agency friends, go ham on some apps, and then head back home just as soon as Mina and Kirishima ended the night the way they usually did—locked mouth to mouth after drinking a little too much, causing a scene.
You waved Mina away, poking your head back out the kitchen door and surveying the rest of the party. Over near the couch, you caught a flash of a couple of your fellow case analysts in conversation with Asui Tsuyu, a beta hero at your agency who you got on well with. Your people exactly.
However, no sooner had you started to push back into the crowd than something slammed into your shoulder, sending you stumbling back into the wall. Your drink splashed right up over your shoulder, cold and biting. You let out a strangled noise, turning your head on impulse and catching a mouthful of hair.
“Oh my god, I am sooo sorry,” a soft voice said. You realized you’d collided with an omega analyst from another Bunkyo agency—a girl you vaguely remembered from a joint case a few years ago. She was small, petite, and delicately pretty in the way of most omegas. And she had also managed to empty nearly the entirety of your cup onto you.
“Shit, shit—I got your shirt wet!” she said, yanking herself back from you. She looked a little glassy-eyed, but genuinely apologetic, and she wiped at your shoulder with her bare hand. Definitely a bit drunk.
“No—it’s fine,” you told her, attempting to duck her hand. “I also didn’t see you!”
The omega girl didn’t look reassured however. She frowned, pausing over you—then suddenly slithered right out of her cardigan, throwing it over your shoulders.
“We’ll hide it like that. Please take it,” she said, her delicate fingers flitting back and forth over your now-covered shoulder, like she still itched to fix something. The cardigan was soft and warm, and even you could tell it smelled good—a soft, powdery, classically omegan scent.
“It’s really fine—” you insisted, immediately shrugging the cardigan back off, though you appreciated the gesture. You glanced down at your shoulder, surveying the damp patch that was slowly soaking closer to your boob. “It’s clear—it will dry in a couple of minutes and no one will be any the wiser. It already stinks like alcohol in here anyway.”
The omega girl hesitated as you handed her sweater back to her. She leaned in to sniff you tentatively. “Are you sure? I really am so sorry. Your mate is going to be so mad, now you can’t really smell you over the vodka unless you get in close—”
You held up a hand, sending her a reassuring smile. “I don’t have a mate, so there’s no problem. I promise.”
You did not add that as a beta, your pool of potential mates was limited to other betas, and that no beta’s sense of smell was enough to get worked up over this. Alphas and omegas tended to forget that not everyone was as sensitive as they were.
She bit her lip, the gesture pretty, but looked somewhat mollified. “You’re sure?” she ventured one last time.
You nodded. “Totally sure. I appreciate the gesture though.”
She nodded, still looking hesitant, and you decided there was only one way to put an end to this.
“Nice to see you, though. Maybe I will catch you around later!” you said, waving her off firmly. You quickly abandoned your now empty cup on a nearby table and turned to head back into the living room. You spotted Tsuyu’s head of dark green hair through the crowd of shoulders, a homing beacon in the dim.
As you charted an unsteady path through the crush of people, you noted several more heroes and analysts from other agencies, including Kaminari Denki and a beaming Midoriya Izuku, crammed into a corner and chatting animatedly to—oh.
Your cheeks flushed. Pro hero Shouto was here.
The other hero stood tall and solemnly handsome across from Midoriya, just as maddeningly gorgeous as always. You, like every other person with working eyeballs, had long nursed a tiny bit of a celebrity crush on him, as he was literally the most beautiful person on earth—a fact evidenced by his now six-year running sweep of Tokyo Beat magazine’s cutest hero award.
In your time at Pink Riot, you’d worked a couple of joint cases with Shouto’s agency and met him a few times in passing. You’d always found him to be a little bit intense, but kind, thoughtful, straightforward, and diligent. He was every bit the reassuring hero the media made him out to be, and even more striking in person. He also always wore scent patches flush at the sides of his neck, concealing what his secondary gender was from prying noses, although you’d always sort of suspected he had to be an omega.
He was tall and solid and strong in the way of most pro heroes. But his features were so finely-wrought, so strangely graceful and elegant for a man, that you would have put significant amounts of money down on his omega status.
Not that it mattered. Betas really only dated betas, and alphas really only omegas, so Shouto’s status wasn’t much to you, regardless of what it was.
You slipped past, averting your eyes, wondering absently if an omega like Todoroki Shouto ever encountered harassment like the victims in your newest case file. Maybe his scent blockers were for this very purpose—hiding his omega status so he didn’t run the risk. You imagined with a face like his, he would be sure to garner migraine-inducing levels of undue interest.
This thought was suddenly arrested, however, when a hand pressed to your chest, shoving you back into the wall you were sidling past.
Your breath wooshed out of your lungs as a strangled “fwuuh” noise escaped you. Your gaze jerked up to find an alpha you somewhat recognized was holding you against the wall, grinning in an incredibly unsettling way.
Fuzzily, you matched his face to one of the techs from the support department, someone you occasionally saw at work functions but never worked directly with. Support interfaced mainly with the heroes, mending their tech, inventing new items, and—if Mina’s complaints were to be believed—running up quite the bill for the agency with their experimentation.
“Can I—help you?” you garbled out, staring the alpha down.
He leaned in, leery, slurring, “What’sa pretty li’l thing like you doin’ here, huh?”
He smelled strongly of Tetsutestu’s horrid concoction, like the alcohol was literally seeping from his pores. You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his hand. It was large, and too-warm against your shoulder, and the desire to turn and bite it welled up in your mouth.
“Can you get off me?” you asked, grabbing the alpha by the wrist. A support tech though he was, his hold on you was firm, and your grip didn’t dislodge him. He clung to your sweater, his gaze glassy but intense.
He closed his eyes, nose twitching like he was-–ew—like he was scenting you. “Aww come on baby. A li’l omega like you? There’s no need to pr’tend you don’t want this.”
Your brows furrowed, confusion bubbling up inside you. A little omega like you? What the fuck was he talking about? Was he that blasted?
“You have three seconds before I bite you,” you said, certain that would be clear enough, even if he was too drunk to tell you were a beta.
But his hand didn’t move. Instead he laughed, hot and humid and smelling strongly of liquor, and he fumbled with something at his belt.
A hot wave of fear suddenly washed over you, a stab of panic lancing your heart. He wasn’t going to expose himself right here, was he? You pushed back against the wall, feeling entrapped, yanking at his wrist harder to get him off of you.
“I’m not an omega,” you said loudly. “And I’m not interested, now get—”
The alpha’s hand was gone. You blinked, suddenly finding his face missing too, your vision gone entirely gray and strangely…knitted?
“Do not touch her,” a deep voice intoned, and you realized you were staring at a broad back, clad in a handsome gray sweater. You tipped your head back, your gaze fixing on a suspiciously familiar mop of scarlet and white hair.
Shouto. Pro hero Shouto had put himself in between you and the asshole alpha.
A thrill raced down your spine.
“The fuck I won’t,” a snort issued over one of Shouto’s strong shoulders.
There was a small, silent moment where you watched Shouto’s head tilt just the tiniest bit. He didn’t say anything in return—but a sudden, creeping unease slithered over your senses, raising the hair on the back of your neck. An audible hush fell over the people nearest you, though you couldn’t see what exactly was happening, caged between Shouto’s back and the wall.
You could just make out Shouto’s scent patches, perfectly even against his neck like always, and wondered whether they would help—-if the alpha couldn’t smell Shouto was an omega, maybe he thought he would respect his boundaries more?
“Dude—” someone hissed, from somewhere near the alpha, just as Shouto spoke once more.
“You will leave,” he intoned in that deep tone again. His voice was soft, placid—but the feeling of unease grew within you, a strange itch under your skin. You had the sudden urge to flee, but one of Shouto’s hands closed over your wrist, as a cerulean eye caught yours over his shoulder. “You…please stay.”
You could do nothing but nod, your feet practically freezing in place, the desire to obey subsuming your entire brain. What the hell was happening?
As Shouto turned back to face the alpha again, that hunted feeling grew stronger, like there was something in the apartment that you should be very, very wary of. Your throat started to close up, and your breath came a little short.
The room was so suddenly silent that you could hear the nervous shift of the people beyond Shouto, and you caught the sound of the alpha suddenly stumbling back.
“You’re—are you fucking Ordering me?” The alpha asked, but you could hear that he was still backing away.
The question crawled right under your skin along with the unsettled feeling.
An Order. As in, an Alpha Order. From Shouto? Pretty, kind, patient, careful Shouto? Classic omega material Shouto?
Was…using an Order on an alpha, and it was working?
Your head spun with the mismatch between Shouto’s face and the latent command in his tone. It was almost too strange to be contemplated, and yet here it was playing out in front of you.
Shouto, for his part, didn’t bother answering the question. “I believe I asked you to leave,” he said firmly. His voice carried an inflection that sliced through the air like a knife.
“Sorry, Todoroki, he’s super fucking drunk—I’ll get him out of here,” another voice said, one you recognized as a different support tech.
It sounded like he didn’t need to expend the effort, however, as the alpha’s footsteps were already beating a hasty retreat. The other support tech’s footsteps followed, his pace clipped on the hardwood.
As soon as they were out of view, the suffocating feeling all but evaporated. You could almost feel the sigh of relief around the room, and the line of Shouto’s shoulders untensed.
He turned to you slowly, drawing in a deep breath. His normally blank expression had been exchanged for something troubled, his perfect eyebrows knitted in concern, his full mouth pursed up like he’d just let it drop from a snarl.
He blinked down at you for a second, those distinct heterochromatic eyes flicking over you, before you found yourself suddenly crowded back into the corner, your back bumping the wall. Shouto leaned down and gave a delicate sniff at your temple, as if checking your condition.
“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was still strange, rough with something you couldn’t name.
He was warm where he lingered over you, his shoulders broad enough that they blocked the light and cast falling shadows into the meager space between you. He was near enough that the dip of his sweater collar rasped over your shoulder, sending a swarm of tingles over your skin. You drew in a careful breath, trying to figure out just what the right answer was, coming up with nothing.
Shouto frowned over your lack of a response. His nose pressed right into your hair, and he crowded even closer, like he was trying to find the source of your discomfort—even though he’d just chased that source right through the front door.
“Your scent is difficult to find,” he murmured, his chest expanding and contracting. “It is covered by many things…” He trailed off as he seemed to find it—and then something strange happened—even stranger than the scene with the support tech alpha.
Shouto froze in place, going so unearthly still he might have been transmuted into marble. You heard his breath catch and hold in his lungs, and his fingers came up to grasp your sleeve, clutching you tightly.
You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong when a shudder swept down him, from head to toe. His grip on your wrist tightened for a moment, and a groan bubbled up from somewhere low in his throat.
“Your scent—” he rasped, then cut himself off.
He huffed out a harsh breath instead, stirring your hair, before his face dropped into the cradle of your shoulder. He breathed in, slow, measured, his mouth just barely touching the skin of your throat. You could feel his long, pretty eyelashes flutter against your skin, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine.
Something under your skin shifted in response, then.
To your utter shock, you could feel yourself tilting your head to the side, baring your neck. A strange feeling of malleability settled over you, like your bones had jellified and your muscles had atrophied.
“Shouto—?” you garbled out, unable to articulate any question beyond what the fuck was happening? You knew it had something to do with the way Shouto was most definitely not an omega after all. The thought made your brain fuzz with static.
Pretty, gentle, elegant Todoroki Shouto was an alpha. Kind, placid, beautiful Todoroki Shouto was even some kind of…distressingly strong alpha.
It crossed all the wires in your brain to think of that face possessing that kind of strength. But there was clearly something there. And you were being so weird and embarrassing about it, but you couldn’t have moved, even if you wanted to.
It felt like a short eternity, the time Shouto stood over you like that, his face pressed into your throat, your own throat bared to him. Your heartbeat pounded in your chest, simultaneously hammering a zillion miles a minute, and yet feeling slow, syrupy.
Distantly, you registered the hum of voices in the background, Tetsutetsu trying to rekindle the happy atmosphere. But Shouto was so warm over you, breathing slow and shallow, a tall, strong anchor weighing you against the wall.
It could have been minutes or hours before he finally stepped away. He looked calmer, but a little dazed. You felt the same way, mystified by what had just occurred between you.
His gaze picked over you in some kind of assessment. “You’re well?” he asked carefully. His voice was pitched low.
“Yeah,” you managed, your throat weirdly dry. “Yeah. I—thank you, Shouto.”
Shouto inclined his head in a nod. “You, as well. I don’t usually…I try not to rise to anger. But when alphas try to use their power to—” he cut himself off. His throat bobbed with some emotion you couldn’t name.
“Your scent is….calming to me.”
You nodded. The beta chill thing again, like Mina had said.
“Your friendly neighborhood beta, at your service,” you saluted him, trying to ignore the strange, lingering shiver in your limbs.
A tiny smile quirked the corner of Shouto’s mouth, but his gaze remained fixed on you, almost inhumanly intense.
“That is not quite what I mean,” he said, but did not elaborate. There was something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t know him well enough to try to dig into it.
Instead you just gave him another smile, your face heating as you noticed several people around you were still watching you.
You figured it was probably time to make an escape after that little scene you had just caused, for Shouto’s reputation as well as yours. You didn’t need people thinking Shouto had been scenting you for any reason other than your apparent beta chill pill scent, especially now that people at the party would know he was an alpha.
God, he was an alpha, even with a face like that.
You waved at him, garbling out another, “Well, thanks for the save! I, um, have to be going, but I’ll see you around!” before throwing yourself back through the crowd, your head spinning.
Mina had come out of the kitchen and tried to flag you down as you passed. You waved back at her like you’d misunderstood, quickly fighting your way back to Tetsu’s front door. You felt the weight of dozens of eyes on your back, and the prick of two heterochromatic ones, somehow more certain and weightier than the others. But you didn’t turn around, eager to get out of the crowd, still reeling from what had happened.
You didn’t know how you had been mistaken for an omega by that drunk alpha, and understood even less what had possessed Shouto to sniff you all over like that, embarrassed by how much you had liked it. It most probably had something to do with how inherently non-aggressive beta scents were supposed to be, maybe helping Shouto down from how keyed up he’d been about that other alpha.
But it had still been so embarrassing and strange, the way your head had tipped right back for him, the way your limbs had gone to jelly in his hold. You hoped he’d had a little to drink too or he’d probably realize how weird you were, reacting like that.
Finally, you spilled out of Tetsu’s and into the night, the evening air cool on your heated skin. The phantom touch of Shouto’s mouth still lingered on your throat, warm and disconcerting.
You beelined for home, your head swimming. You wondered just how long it would take you to forget how very strange this evening had been.
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