#I don't know about this mate...it's too risky

[redr0sewrites]

k. takami nsfw alphabet

🍊 A/n: wanted to do one of these for a long time hehe! also cannot believe this is my first time writing for hawks like,,,,

🍊 Cw: nsfw, smut, marking, phone sex, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, corruption kink, overstimulation

🍊 dividers

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the first word that comes to mind is definitely clingy. i think that after sex, especially with someone whom he's very close with emotionally, Hawks is really desperate for physical contact and intimacy. his aftercare game is okay, he'd put in the effort, but he prefers to just relax and cuddle with you and deal with any mess in the morning. i also think he'd prefer to be pampered a bit rather than do the pampering, but if you're too tired i do think he'd take care of you too. falls asleep as close as possible to you, often crushing you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think on himself, Hawks struggles a lot with choosing a favorite, but overall i think its his hands. they're a lot softer than the rest of him, since he's always wearing gloves, and he loves that they give you so much pleasure. plus, i think he has like larger hands than most, and they're just very pretty (and he has prominent veins + a bit of hair on his knuckles urgrhrhrhr im deceased). on you, i think he's either a tummy or thighs type of guy. he likes resting on your stomach or thighs because his wings make it difficult to sleep on his back, and he also really enjoys how much your thighs and stomach tremble when you're overstimulated or about to cum. likes leaving hickeys there as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly he'll cum anywhere. if you're just a hookup Hawks is pretty normal about it, he'll use a condom and call it a day, but if he's in an intimate relationship with someone i think he'd really like cumming inside or on your stomach or chest. seeing his cum dripping on your body kinda soothes those weird primal bird instincts he sometimes gets- i feel like he would occasionally get super possessive about cumming on you. he also really likes how wet you get when he's already cum inside a few times and can hear soft squelches everytime he thrusts into you, thats just like an oddly specific turn on of his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

definitely masturbates to the thought of you, probably even before you officially get together. i don't think he's a big fan of porn, so Hawks pretty much only gets off using his imagination. has probably sneaked a few photos of you in a low cut shirt or tight shorts to use for... later purposes. the embarrassment and shame he feels about violating your privacy only turns him on more. in addition to this, Hawks has a v complicated relationship with morality and would probably get turned on by nefarious or risky acts like public sex or something of the like, simply because it would probably ruin his public image.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

experienced in hookups, but not in intimacy, if that makes sense. like sure, Hawks has slept with people, but hasn't had many long term or romantic partners. all this to say, he's experienced with fucking, but not so much with truly making love. either way, he's talented in getting you off, but probably not talented with specific kinks or holding eye contact n stuff- at least at first.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

basic missionary, mating press, or 69ing. he likes seeing your face and reactions, especially if you're in a serious relationship. however, he's also a certified munch and loves giving head so he drabbles in that as well.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

honestly it depends on his mood. sometimes i can see Hawks being very silly and taking it slow, probably when you're more comfortable in the relationship or are feeling especially tired or emotional. however when he's stressed or irritated he's more serious and less prone to joking around. also depends on how you respond, and if his silliness lightens the mood and makes you more comfortable, then he's damn well trying his hardest to please you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

amazing at manscaping. pubes are a little darker than the rest of his hair, probably curl too. he trims but doesn't shave completely, and has a really nice happy trail. probably spends a lot of time on self care,, in addition to this, he probably wouldn't care on whether or not his partner shaves, but would probably have a preference for more hair rather than none.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

at first Hawks isn't great with intimacy but gets better as the relationship progresses. at the start he's mildly awkward and moreso pursuing pleasure than emotional connections, but once he's sure that the relationship is serious than he himself is a lot more romantic. if he truly cares for you than you best believe he's going all out- from rose petals to candlelight, he wants you to know that he cares. i also think he'd be very sweet and considerate during the deed, like even at the start of a relationship he will always make sure he isn't hurting you or making you feel uncomfortable in any way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

does it a lot. he has a pretty high libido, and he can't be around you all the time, and while he wishes that he could sleep with you whenever he's feeling horny it can't be helped that some nights are spent with him fucking into his fist instead. like ive said before, he's not a big fan of porn and would prefer to jack off to you or photos of you. HUUGEEE on phone sex and mutual masturbation, especially when he's away on hero business, and its so hot to hear him rasping and whimpering into the speaker about how much he misses you and wishes you were there.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

starting off strong, definitely marking. loves to mark you and be marked himself. wears hickeys with pride. also big on overstim, both giving and receiving. its just super hot to him to watch you squirm, but also likes to be fucked dumb as well. mild corruption kink, especially if you're super inexperienced, because most of the time he's probably the more experienced person in any sexual relationship. likes flustering you a lot. some more include praise, especially receiving, and also sensory play, both giving and receiving

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

prefers the bedroom, but would also not mind public sex or perhaps in a cramped space. likes the risk, but it's so inconvenient, especially with his wings. also a fan of bath or hot tub sex

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

lots of things. gets really horny around spring, again, bird instincts, but most of the time it's just you simply existing that gets him going. really likes seeing you in revealing clothes, especially when you're intentionally trying to tease him. big fan of thigh highs or garters, and crop tops that show your stomach. also when you touch his wings or feathers. that is probably the quickest way to turn him on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i'd say hawks is pretty experimental, but wouldn't want to do anything that he thinks would hurt you too much or make you uncomfortable. i also think he'd be ehh in terms of wax play or fire play for obvious reasons unless you really truly wanted to try it out, but other than that i think he's down for anything you would like to try. i also think he'd be against blindfolding himself or covering his eyes in general, as it reminds him of how the commission used to train him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

giver giver giver. as much as he loves receiving, Hawks fucking LOVES to give head, he's absolutely a certified munch and whether or not you have a pussy or dick he's sucking and slurping like its his last meal. loves how you taste, loves when you grind your hips against his face and chin, loves when you cum in his mouth, loves when your thighs squeeze his head. also fucking loves facesitting. please just let him drown between your thighs...

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

honestly his pace varies. when Hawks is pissed off he tends to be a lot rougher and filthier, but he also has a really soft n gentle side too. it depends a lot on how he's feeling and how you're feeling in the moment. i do think he has a lot of stress, especially prewar!Hawks, and so that definitely leads to a lot of rough sex. i also think he likes savoring the moment though, and obviously he loves you a lot so he wouldn't want to hurt you. sure, people say he goes too fast for his own good, but he's more than willing to slow down for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves them. any and every chance he gets, Hawks is more than willing to fuck you. overall the mixture of both risk and passion is very appealing to him, and since he's often super busy, he appreciates any sex you can hve that fits your respective schedules. fifteen minutes before an important meeting? sure, he's got time to spare- he'll sit you on his desk and eat you out/suck you off until your seeing stars with a few minutes to spare.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

definitely big on risk, and is willing to try anything you want to try. however, a lot of his preferences depend on you rather than himself, and so he's also fine with being pretty vanilla in the bedroom as well. really likes teasing you in public or inconvenient places tho,,, half the hero community has caught you both making out at least once or twice

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

out of all the Bnha men he probably has the highest stamina. not only can he last a while, but he doesn't take long to recover after an orgasm. and, in addition to this, more often than not he's focused much more on his partners pleasure than his own so i really see him being determined to make you cum at least three times, if not more. overall he's got great stamina and he's very focused on your pleasure soo,,, A+ partner

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

probably never really thought about using toys on himself, at least until he started sleeping with you. you introduce him to a bullet vibrator and he cums so many times he's shaking n whimpering. when it comes to you, he loves using toys on you to tease you, but prefers to actually get you off using his own body. doesn't mean he won't use them, but prefers to make you cum himself. has a trusty pair of handcuffs that he uses a lot though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ohhh all the time. teases you both in public and in private, sometimes when he's not even horny and just for his own enjoyment. teases you a lot in the bedroom as well, and just. loves seeing you squirm. teases you a lot with his feathers too- like you'll be taking a casual stroll when all of a sudden a slim red feather is sliding under your shirt to rest against your chest,,,, how odd! i also think Hawks would tease you a lot unintentionally? like he's rubbing your thigh while he's driving or pulling you into a kiss by the neck and then wondering why you get so hot n bothered. his hand placement is peak, he's incredibly flirtatious even when he doesn't mean to be, and overall he's just. a huge tease. he's a total hypocrite though because Hawks gets soo pouty when you tease him. he's like miraculously surprisingly easy to fluster simply because he's not used to being the one on the receiving end.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when he's more dominant i don't think he's as vocal as when he's submissive. when he's domming i think you'll hear a lot of groans and dirty talk but overall he's relatively quiet, however when he's subbing he moans and whimpers a lot. i also think he talks a lot during sex, like he babbles about how hot you are and how good he feels even when he's more dominant

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

his wings/feathers + back are very sensitive and a huge erogenous zone ! they're also very expressive and if you watch his wings a lot, it's easy to tell when he's worked up or horny simply because of little tells he has. however they can also be ticklish sometimes, so occasionally during sex he gets a little giggly because the its both pleasurable but also. hes ticklish.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's big, and very pretty. i'd say at least 7 inches, maybe 7.5 when he's hard. he's got a few prominent veins on the underside of his cock, and a very nice happy trail too. his tip is also a very nice shade of pinky brown.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

his sex drive is pretty high, not insanely so but to the point where he tries to sleep with you at least once a week, but if you're sex drive is very low he's fine with compromising. if you're sex drive is higher than his though? you're absolutely blessed because he's more than willing to fuck wherever and whenever. a personal hc of mine is that Hawks is like especially horny during the spring... bird mating season.... so be prepared. i just think its kinda funny

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

honestly it depends on how quickly you fall asleep. if you want to clean up before going to sleep and get some aftercare done, then sure he'll stay up, but if you want to stay in bed and cuddle and leave the mess till the morning... well he's out like a light.

i love these type of hcs SO much, i have another set for shigaraki and touya on the way.... anywyss ! hope u enjoyed!! PLS SEND IN BNHA REQS RAHH

[babybearnation]

cause i've got a soft spot (i've got it for you)

⎇paul aron x m!team boss!reader - you don't play favourites, but with paul... (smau) ⎇author's note: my first ever non-texts post and AHHH this is so nerve-wracking omd!! pls be nice to me PLS ⎇content warnings: team boss/racer relationship, hate comments, suggestive content, implied homophobia, arguing

Paul sighs, wiping his hands on his pants for the umpteenth time. His leg bounces restlessly and he's rather glad he got here after Arthur had already gone into the room to meet Y/n otherwise he's sure he would've annoyed his future teammate before the season could even start.

Paul's about to stand up and start pacing when the door clicks and swings open, Arthur walking out first. Paul watches as Arthur and Y/n exchange farewells before standing up and smiling when Y/n beckons him into the room.

"Paul, hi. Come on in." Y/n says. Paul crosses to the room, smiling as he enters the vast area. He's vaguely aware of the many thoughts he's having about Y/n and how young he is and how insanely attractive he is, but he's pushing them all down.

Professionalism, Paul, come on!

"So, welcome to the team." Y/n says as he sits down, folding his hands atop the desk as he smiles warmly at Paul. Paul finds himself flushing lightly, warmth lighting up his body.

"It's great to be here. Thank you for giving me this opportunity." Paul says, his words feeling thick and heavy on his tongue. Thank you doesn't feel good enough, but his English is clunky and he doesn't want to make a fool out of himself.

"Your post-season test with Alpine showed fantastic potential and we have the finances to invest in more... how shall I put this?" Y/n trails off, tapping his chin before shrugging. "More risky decisions, shall we say."

"Right." Paul says, an embarrassment flushing throughout his system. Do they really think he's gonna be that bad?

"Not that that's a reflection on you or Arthur, of course. I have my confidence firmly placed in both of your hands. But, well, you know how fans and higher ups can be." Y/n says, laughing softly. Paul latches onto the sound instantly, something flickering to life in his gut.

"I totally understand what you mean. Thank you for your confidence. I hope my performance can please you, Mr. Y/l/n." Paul says, all the drilled-in media training entwining with the words that drip from his tongue.

"Please, Paul, call me Y/n. I don't want this to feel like a job to you, but rather a family." Y/n smiles again and Paul finds himself naturally smiling back, all his previous nerves and professionalism replaced with a twisted sense of desire. "Now, about this family thing. Let's go get some lunch with the rest of the staff, shall we? I'm quite famished."

Paul thinks he might like it here.

liked by arthur_leclerc, cbaceracing, and 62,880 others

paularon_ Thank you to @/cbaceracing for signing me on as one of their 2025 drivers. I hope everyone is excited to see me on the grid next year. (And thank you @/aronralf for the silly cake).

comments

user1 let's go, paul on the f1 gridddddd

cbaceracing It's gotta be a good year when you've got Paul Aron on your team, huh @/hitechgp 😉 ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ liked by paularon_ hitechgp Can't disagree with that, can we? 😉 liked by paularon_

user2 This is fucking insane, I'm so happy right now.

arthur_leclerc I look forward to racing with you next year, mate. liked by paularon_

user3 Arthur's gonna fucking run your shit into the dirt. You're awful. user1 ew, who asked you? user2 Jealousy gets you nowhere, mate 🙄

aronralf That cake was delicious, I think we can both agree. liked by paularon_ paularon_ Remind me who ate most of it again?

Y/n sighs, pacing back and forth as he drags his fingers through his hair. He probably shouldn't dishevel his appearance too much lest he come off as unprofessional or unattractive, but it's been his bad habit for years, so bad habit it shall remain.

His fingers drift down to his tie and he's just about to tug it loose and retie it when there's a knock at the door. He crosses over instantly, tugging it open with far too much excitement, smiling breathlessly when he spots Paul on the other side.

"Hello, come on in." Y/n says, stepping to one side to let Paul through. Paul greets him softly and enters the room, sitting in the chair closest to Y/n's one. Y/n's heart most resolutely does not flutter.

"What's happening? Is everything alright? You look like a mess, to be honest." Paul says. Y/n huffs out a laugh as he leans against the desk, gazing down at Paul.

"Something is plaguing me." Y/n says, wincing when a headache decides to form behind his eyelids. Why right now? When he looks at Paul again, the younger man has a troubled expression on his face.

"Is everything okay with the team?" Paul asks. Y/n wants to laugh. Paul's devotion to the team is already showing and Y/n hasn't even had to do anything to make it happen! It's adorable, it really is.

"Yes, yes, all good. It's more myself." Y/n says. The headache throbs and he reaches over the desk, snatching up his water bottle and drinking a greedy mouthful. A stray droplet trickles down his cheek and he wipes it away with a calculated finger.

"So what's wrong? Is there any way I can help? I mean... you must've called me here for a reason, right?" Paul says, as observant as ever. Y/n smiles softly at him.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me." Y/n says, puffing his chest out in triumph. He did it, he said it, now hopefully he's not going to get rejected.

"I- is that not inappropriate? Won't people claim you favour me?" Paul sputters, his cheeks a delicate pink.

"I've held feelings for you for a while. No favouring claims have come out, have they?" Y/n says. He's practically baring the very depths of his soul to Paul right now, an embarrassing hue of red surely filling his face and trickling down his neck.

"That's true..." Paul says, looking away from Y/n's gaze. Y/n smiles and leans down, capturing one of Paul's hands in his own.

"You can say no. I won't react negatively, I promise." Y/n says. Paul nods stiltedly before smiling up at him.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, Y/n."

Every single member of staff who currently fill both Paul and Arthur's garages come pouring out as Paul crosses the line to start his final lap, Arthur hot on his tail. They cram along the fences and the walls around CB Ace Racing's pitbox as Y/n smiles at the screens in front of him.

A 1-2 finish. Every team boss's dream. Every team's dream. Whilst Arthur would surely wish he had finished first, Y/n knew he wouldn't hold that grudge and would celebrate just as hard, if not harder, than Paul would tonight.

One last corner. One last straight. One last bit.

"Paul Aron, you are the winner of the Silverstone Grand Prix!" Cheers and thunderous applause rise up throughout the pitlane as CB Ace staff pound the fences and hoot and holler in excitement over their hard work finally paying off. Paul's white and purple car continues on around the circuit as his radio crackles to life.

"We did it! I did it for you, CB Ace Racing! I did it for you, Callum! I did it for you, Y/n!" You smile as Paul thanks everyone, the tears that are probably soaking into the material of his balaclava audible through his voice.

"You did it, Paul. You did it." Y/n says, proud and triumphant. He listens to Arthur's radio and congratulates him as well before pulling his headphones off and slowly following the rest of his team over to parc fermé.

As he goes, Y/n thinks to himself about how big this was for them. A rookie team. Two rookie drivers. Hundreds of points and a handful of podiums under their belt. And now a win. It was a dream come true as well as a big fuck you to everyone who had doubted them.

Y/n lines up front and centre as he watches Paul pull into parc fermé, the white and purple of his car sparkling and practically iridescent under the British sun. Arthur's car comes next but Y/n isn't able to stare for long, Paul clambering out of his car seconds later.

Paul stands atop his car and cheers, all the mechanics and staff around Y/n cheering along too. Y/n claps, slowly and patiently, as he waits for Paul to get weighed. Before long, his helmet has been discarded and he starts running over.

Straight to Y/n.

"I did it!" Paul says as he all but collapses in Y/n's arms. Y/n holds him close, offering his hand to Arthur when the other man appears moments later. He rolls his eyes fondly at Paul and Y/n before moving over to congratulate the rest of the staff.

The interviews and the cool down room waiting period passed so quickly Y/n was almost sure he imagined them. Before long, however, he stands in a crowd of thousands, eyes fixed on his two drivers. On his boyfriend. On his staff. On the legacy they've created in only their first year. And there's still more to come.

As the Estonian and British national anthems fill the Silverstone circuit in rapid succession, Y/n feels ecstatic.

Paul knocks against the doorframe. Arthur's driver's room door is open, but Paul doesn't want to just barge in without getting some sort of consent.

"Paul! Come on in." Arthur says, looking up from his phone with a soft smile. Paul smiles in return and slowly enters the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Can we talk?"

"Of course." Arthur says, locking his phone and placing it to one side, all his attention fixed solely on Paul. It's a bit daunting. "What is up?"

"You know me and Y/n are dating right?" Paul says, watching as Arthur's eyes widen almost comically in shock. "That's a no then."

"No clue." Arthur clarifies, laughing softly. A small amount of tension bleeds from the atmosphere at that and Paul finds himself relaxing somewhat.

"Well we are and um, do you think it seems like he favours me?" Paul asks, wringing his hands together. The question was out there now, simmering in the air between them. Arthur hmm's, causing Paul to look up and meet his eyes.

"No, not at all. You two seem closer, but I've never felt like you were prioritised over me." Arthur says, shrugging with a wonky expression on his face.

"Oh thank god. I was so worried someone would think that was the case. People are already getting suspicious about us on Twitter." Paul says, all the tension seeping from his shoulders, allowing him to practically melt against the wall behind him.

"Ah, Twitter rumours. The place of all good F1 commentary." Arthur snarks, both of them laughing at the idiocy of his words.

"That's an understatement."

liked by paularon_, arthur_leclerc and 20,072 others

y/n.cbace Sorry everyone, but this one's mine. (Bonus Arthur with Paul at the end I guess? 🙄)

tagged paularon_, arthur_leclerc

comments

paularon_ Love you, kallikene 🤍 liked by y/n.cbace y/n.cbace Love you more 😘

arthur_leclerc What's that supposed to mean 😐 liked by y/n.cbace y/n.cbace Nothingggg! I love you equally, just in different ways! arthur_leclerc Uh-huh, sure 😒 liked by y/n.cbace

neonpinkleds I TOLD Y'ALL MOTHERFUCKERS !!!!

user3 Eugh, the only reason you got the seat is because you're fucking the team principal. user1 Just say you're jealous you're not getting your dick wet🙄 liked by y/n.cbace

© all rights to babybearnation 2024.

[leggerefiore]

How do you think the dragons handle their partner getting sick? Something ranging as small as a cold to something more life threatening? Would they get better at handling it the more it'd happen? I imagine Pitaya has the most experience with injuries due to being trigger happy to fight but the least experience with sicknesses due to high body heat that just cooks anything before it affects them so personally Pitaya knows how to treat and tend to injuries even if some methods are weird because no one taught them they had to figure it out themselves and I especially imagine Pitaya accidentally injures their partner more than either would probably like so Pitaya gets better and better experience how to take care of them to make up for it I wish I could ramble about my headcanons for the other dragons but Pitaya was literally all I had in mind and I don't even know how they'd handle sicknesses over injuries

cw: illness,

characters: Longan, Lychee, Pitaya, Ananas, Lotus

👁Longan Dragon Cookie🌟

⚪️ They know everything that is to happen and come… Your illness will pass. Though, they must admit this is concerning. This mortal body you have assumed for whatever reason… It was proving even more risky than initially anticipated. Ultimately, they understand something as simple as this “cold” will pass. Longan will order their servants to attend to you, but they will check in sporadically. Seeing you so fragile and teetering into a desperate state, they will place your head into their lap and stroke your hair. Then, they explain that this is yet another reason why you must return to your true self.

⚪️ Though… If it was something more serious… They would genuinely falter. This mortal form… It would not claim their mate. Servants tend to you constantly, while Longan checks in far more often. If there is even a possibility that you may die… They will work overtime to find a solution to this perceived problem. It is actually a bit terrifying how intensely they stare at you. But, there are gentle moments where they grasp you tightly and press endless kisses to you. They need you to get better. It must happen. (Or… better yet, return to being a dragon. Please.)

���Ananas Dragon Cookie🏖

🟡 The very moment you show signs of illness, even as small as just having a runny nose, they basically order you to rest. Their poor little mate… How could this happen? You must have pushed yourself too hard. Soft blankets and plush pillows will be all around you as they demand their islanders assist in your declining health. You are given various herbal remedies and medicines and made to rest. Ananas secretly feels like they failed to protect you… even if it is impossible to guard against bacteria and viruses. They curl their tail around your body and rest with you. The Golden Dragon will not leave your side until you are better.

🟡 For something more life-threatening, they are on their knees pleading for your health. They will do anything and everything to see you get better. It kills them seeing you so genuinely fragile and weak, barely able to keep your eyes open. Their heartbreaks at the thought they may genuinely lose you. That simply cannot happen. Once again, their islanders will tend to you however they can. None of them want the Golden Dragon to lose their mate. Ananas will remain at your side through this all… You must recover. Their poor heart cannot handle this.

🗡Pitaya Dragon Cookie🍉

🔴 The Red Dragon knows not what to do when you begin to cough and sneeze. They know what an illness is – but they have next to know experience in handling it. From their time ruling over a certain kingdom, they grasp that rest is important, but they also know that some illnesses are incurable or life-threatening. But, you insist it is nothing serious. Still, they ask you to actually take it easy. It is strange seeing Pitaya treat you so gently, but they really feel terrified about failing you. Bravely, they even go to the Dragon City in search of medicine. They get whatever you asked for, too. You are laid out in their nest with the most comfortable furs and pelts they could provide. Pitaya watches over you, even daring to cuddle with you and hope you get better.

🔴 In the case of something more severe, they are frantic. They truly do not have the capability to handle this, and it terrifies them. How could this happen to their mate? They will fly you off to the only place they can even feel partially comfortable seeking out help. This means a certain berry kingdom has a dragon demanding assistance lest they burn it down again. It is given – mostly because a certain hero hates seeing the usually prideful dragon so fragile. Pitaya refuses to leave your side, taken over by an instinctual urge to protect their weakened mate. Doctors from the kingdom work as hard they can to ensure your health. All the dragon can do is hope for the best. And that terrifies them.

🪷Lotus Dragon Cookie🌊

🔵 The Blue Dragon sighs at your first signs of illness and has you rest in your room. Their attendants see to your health, providing you medicines and whatever else you desire. They sporadically visit you, admittedly worried about your health. It is painful that they lack their ability to truly grant wishes, lest they would instantly cure you. Instead, they must watch your health. Lotus ponders just who brought in the illness. They will gently play for you to entertain you. It must be so dull having to lie down most of the time. Hopefully, the music will improve your mood and thus your health. They will also lie with you, gently holding you to their chest and stroking your hair. Lotus must admit they dislike seeing you so unwell.

🔵 For something more serious, the dragon will seem almost grief-stricken. Your declining health with no signs of improvement… They could almost flood something in their wrath. But… They will not. No, their attention must be entirely focused on their ill mate. Medicines and herbal remedies are brought in from those within their paradise. Anything and everything to aid in your recovery. They will refuse to leave your side… It is heartbreaking to leave you alone as you were. Your health must improve. Their heart cannot take any more loss… If only their powers could return.

💜Lychee Dragon Cookie🍇

🟣 They admittedly ignore it at first. Yeah, yeah, illness. They saw it in the Rambutan Tribe… Usually, it goes away after a few days. Lychee can wait it out. Besides! You have their support. Right? They just let you rest in their nest and bring you some food and water at regular intervals. Really not good at caring for you. Lychee does care, though. They just… do not really get doting too much. You fawn over them, right? Well, they do at least join you in resting. Their company will make you well, will it not? You are squeezed like a plush toy to them. You will be asked to get better soon – they miss being able to do fun things with you.

🟣 Now… If it were more serious… Lychee… feels their chest tighten. Your weak breaths and sad attempts at caring for yourself. The Violet Dragon makes you rest, but their panic cannot lessen. You seem so… weak. Like something was stealing away your life. It is unbearable seeing you like that. They only become more frantic if you deteriorate… Suddenly, Mangosteen is back and begging Rambutan to help their poor, sick friend. The dragon refuses to leave your side, a hand is always on you. Please — get well, Lychee is going to break.

[gremlingottoosilly]

how would monster konig/price act with a plus size partner? would they like her better? i think they would like her a bit more then a straight sized mate since their plus size mate would have a perfect body to load with eggs/babies!!

- 🍌 anon

(banananon) :))

(I'm going with monster Price for this one because I have too many Konig asks, I need a break) His whole deal is feeding you so his inner bear would be pleased with his mate being soft and sated! Not to the point of a fetish, he won't make you eat if you don't want to(well, I mean, he won't make you eat more than one portion, you're still not getting hungry on his watch), but he still loves to see your body changing just a little bit, meaning that he is a good owner and you're finally healthy enough to take his cubs without breaking. Humans are fragile, after all - he doesn't forget to tell you this, every time he squeezes your waist to pound his fat dick into your pussy, he will whisper just how easy it would be for him to shift and tear you apart - and how he won't do it as long as you're a good, dumb human for him. He would love a chubby partner, the more darling he has, the happier Price is! He will snuggle with you in your nest, happy that all the blankets he prepared are getting well used. He never believed in having a mate before, despite wanting to dump his cum into something fruitful every time he got into a mating season - but he sees your soft arm rolls, your chubby cheeks, your belly that would make a perfect pillow when he is too tired being a monster bear he is...he snatched you right away, not caring about any other pets he might have chosen. You are getting bred right away, even before he got you a proper nest( Price knows that his life is risky, that he doesn't want to get his boys to breed you before him - as much as he considers them his pack - and he doesn't waste time for anything nice. You're still scared and dizzy after being dumped on a bed in this weird military facility filed with broody monsters, and how he squeezes your soft belly and whispers how he is going to put cubs in you - how good of a many you'll make, already so soft and ready for his seed.

[remussaggressivedogspecialist]

Frenemies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Smut, not great writing, it's my first time, I guess risky sex cause it's in a hallway😭, MDNI but I can't control what y'all read, so I warned you

A/N: If you like it, at least comment to lmk, for all my stories, Hogwarts is a university, everyone is 18+ and fully consenting

WC: 2k

Your relationship with Remus was complicated, to say the least.

You were friends in the sense that you belonged to the same group. You hung out together as a group. You ate meals together as a group. You went out on trips to Hogsmeade together and had drinks at the Three Broomsticks as a group.

In the eyes of the Hogwarts’ student body, you and Remus were mates.

That was bullshit of the highest degree.

Despite sharing a mutual friend group, You just so happened to be the one he never seemed to click with. He would try to be polite, and you would be snarky in response. He would try asking about your life, he would shut you down. He would try and make a fucking effort, and you wouldn’t be interested.

He had given up eventually, seeing there be no use in him being anything beyond civil when it came to you. He assumed it had something to do with the fact you were a pureblood Zabini, and he was far from sophistication such as yours, but you'd shut that down. You never outright told him why you hated him, but you had assured him it had nothing to do with status. And that was something, in his eyes.

Until you were paired up together for prefect rounds every Wednesday night after curfew, that was when things changed between you.

It turned out that "meddling about", for better lack of terms, was a much healthier way of taking your anger out on each other. Who would have thought?

"Someone's going to see us, Zabini," he murmured between kisses, his lips unable to completely pull away from you.

“Has that ever stopped you before?”

It took a few seconds to come up with a reply in your state, his lips attacking your neck with ravenous bites and licks of consolation.

"No, but-" he sighed, lips back on yours.

"We're going to get caught. You remember what happened last time. I don't fancy another detention," he mumbled through the kisses, his hands on your thighs.

“Then stay quiet. Problem solved,” you snapped. He always found some way to be difficult.

"That’s easier said than done with you around, you know,” he grinned against your neck, his hand sliding up your skirt. You mumbled something under your breath about him being a pervert before leaning into his touch.

"Ah, because you’re the picture of innocence, aren’t you?" He smiled softly, bringing his head back to look at you, fingers tracing along the inside of your thighs. "Just remember you started it,” he murmured, his index finger rubbing slowly against you.

“Of course, you’re wet,” he sighed dramatically, moving his finger in circles. “And to think a few months ago you could barely look me in the eye without rolling them,” he tsked.

“Fuck off,” you ground out, not without effort, considering he was gradually getting you soaked solely by touching you through the fabric of your knickers.

“I remember you telling me to fuck off more than once, too,” he chided, slowly speeding up his movements. “And now look at you. So close to crumbling and I'm not even properly fucking you.”

“I'm not-” You started, ready to tell him off again, when his finger pushed your panties to the side. "Oh, this is a much better view," he praised sarcastically, running a finger through your folds. "And this is just from my fingers. I can only imagine what you'd be like if it was my mouth or my-”

“Shut. Up.”

"Not a chance," he answered, enjoying your squirms. "Can't shut me up when you're the one whimpering and shaking because of a pair of fingers,” he teased. “God,” he continued, sliding a finger inside of you. “I wonder what the rest of the school would think if they knew this about you. So prim, poised and proper to the outside world. Yet here we are.”

You couldn't help but let out a small moan, quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. Bastard.

"There we are," he murmured, speeding up and adding another finger. "You do sound better when you're louder, but I suppose I'll just have to work with what I'm given. No more snide remarks or bitchy comments," he continued, his fingers curling inside of you. "I could do this all night and you wouldn't be able to say a thing, would you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, a snide comment, a snippy remark, anything remotely insulting on the tip of your tongue, but he pulled his fingers out before you could and slipped them between your lips.

Fuck, that was hot.

"That's what I thought," he chuckled, watching you clean the fingers he just had inside you. ”I should make you do this more often, but you make it so difficult to keep you pliant once we've started,” he complained while undoing his belt painstakingly slow, and your own hand reached to help speed up the process.

"Someone’s impatient. I've hardly done anything yet," he teased, palming himself over his boxers. "Not going to snap at me for being too rough? Maybe call me a jerk or tell me to go to hell?” He pulls his fingers away from your mouth to await your response, but you say nothing, and your silence is submission enough.

He freed himself from his boxers, teasing your entrance. "Good girl," he hissed, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. “And don’t be too loud. I’d still prefer this to be private,” he teased, finally pushing into your waiting heat after coating himself in your slick. You whine in response at the stretch, and he grunted, resisting the urge to pound into you like an animal.

“I’d say that’s a first, but if I remember correctly, I’m certain I’ve shut you up like this- ahhh, before,” he boasted before letting out his own small whimper. You were so fucking perfect. “Not so snappy now, are you? Can’t think of one smartass comment so this is all you have. I really should do this more often.”

“Fuck you,” you managed, and would've parted yourself on the back for the effort it took if your organs weren't currently being rearranged.

“‘s what I'm doing, lovely, can't you see?” He moaned in response, his own snarky comments losing their burn with how wrecked he was becoming. He snickered, pulling back to slam inside you again, harder and faster than he was before. “Tell me, beautiful, do you usually let other boys have you like this or is it only me?”

He was only teasing. He didn't actually care. Really. He didn't.

“Just you,” you murmured offhandedly, too wrapped up in the moment to notice his expression change, or his mouth form into a soft ‘o’, or the fact he didn't mock or tease you. For once, you shut him up. He slowed, his hands grabbing your hips as if it was to steady himself. “Only me, huh?” He said quietly. Before you could respond, he caught himself and sharply thrusted upwards, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh, Merlin's beard,” he muttered, his hips snapping against yours. “That’s it. That’s it,” he encouraged. “C’mon, that’s it. God, you’re such a good girl. So good. You’re doing so good. So, so good,” he praises you whenever he's close, his words barely stringing together to form anything coherent. It always brings you closer to finishing, whether he knows or not. He buried himself deep inside you, a hand finding and squeezing your waist reassuringly as he finished, spurting hot strings of cum inside you.

“Fuck-” he groaned, stilling his movements. His eyes flickered down, then back up to you. "You didn't?" He whispered, his tone a mix of a question and a statement, one that left his own mind reeling and his breathing coming out slightly ragged. “You didn’t,” he repeated, a statement this time, and there was no harshness to his words, no mocking, no teasing. His mouth was set in a firm line, his hands still gripping your hips tightly.

You waved it off with your eyes, too tired to lift your hand. It's not like you'd finish every single time anyways, it happens. “It's fine.”

He shifted back, his softening length slipping out of your heat. “Not fine.” he shook his head. “Not fine at all,” he mumbled while panting, the look on his face resembling something akin to guilt. He tugged his trousers back on before dropping to his knees, face level with your core. “Should see yourself, how you look right now,” he continued, his hands rubbing your thighs, just above your knees, and parting them slightly. “You’re dripping,” he announced, his eyes trained on your core. “So ruined… Can’t believe I did this to you.” His thumb ran up your slit, collecting his own finish leaking out of you.

“Should've taken care of you first,” he scolded himself before connecting his lips with your cunt. A shiver went down his spine, a moan threatening to fall from his mouth. “I’ve never been much for apologizing. You know better than anyone. But I’m sorry,” he mumbled against you, his tongue slipping in-between your folds. “I shouldn’t have just got off and left you like that. It’s not fair on you.”

Who was this guy and what had he done with Remus Lupin?

The vibrations of his words against your clit were doing wonders, and you couldn't help but slide your fingers into his hair and tug, needing something to ground you so you didn't buck your bloody hips like some village harlot. “It's o-okay.”

He sucked in a breath, his scalp stinging from the grip, but he loved it more than he’d ever admit aloud. He hummed against you, licking a long stripe along your slit. “Of course you think it’s okay,” he said, his eyes lifting to look at you. “Because instead of telling me off like you would if I had done this a couple of months ago, you’re just… letting me. Stop letting me.” He wasn't exactly wrong, you had been more lenient with him since this all began, but it didn't seem like a horrible thing.

He went back to what he was doing, and it didn’t take long for his tongue to start working an inexplainable magic that made your legs tremble. You groaned in response, and he smirked, knowing it was the most you’d be able to vocalize in the moment. He added a finger, knowing how over sensitive you were, and being a little shit for taking advantage of the fact. He knew how easily you were stimulated, he knew what buttons to push, and he sure as hell wasn’t stopping until you were satisfied in his eyes.

And of fucking course you were already close. You tugged his hair slightly to signal your approaching orgasm and his eyes closed, a moan slipping out this time, but he quickly caught it before it became too noticable. “Just a bit longer,” he grunted, adding a second finger. “Just a little more for me. Be a good girl, yeah?”

“Please, Rem, fuck…”

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” he murmured, his fingers and tongue working in unison. “Be a good girl and come for me. I want to see you come. I want to taste you, love.” As you finished, he swallowed it all—and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. His fingers and mouth pulled away, leaving soft and comforting kisses on your inner thigh as you came down from your high.

“That’s my girl.” he murmured softly, his hand rubbing your leg in a way that would be considered tender coming from him. “You did so good for me, lovely.” He muttered a cleaning spell before helping you get back to your dorm and continuing the patrol, telling the Head Boy that you felt ill.

You slept better that night than you had the whole year.

[a-writer]

Dancing around - Azriel x reader

I'll never get over the fact that Nesta and Az danced together in Hewn City which means that it is canon that Az actually knows how to dance so... here goes nothing:) Also took some things from scenes in ACOSF and changed it up a bit!:) enjoy<3

Warnings: no actual smut but a lot of smutty talking and thoughts.

"You don't have to do anything you don't wish to. But Elain mentioned that you have particular skill on the dance floor. Skill that once won you the hand of a duke in a single waltz." Rhys said as his eyes fixed upon Nesta.

Yes, sending her to dance with Eris was risky. But they didn't really have more options right now. Cassian wasn't looking too happy about that.

"Over my dead fucking body" He exploded. "Why can't (Y/N) do it?! She's a good fucking dancer, that's for sure."

"Thanks for the compliment, Cass." You smiled at him, his eyes full of hope for you to take his side. "But I'm with Rhys on this one. If I thought it was going to work I would do it, trust me... But Eris has known me for years, he knows I despise him. He's not going to buy the act and you know it. Plus, it will be fun to see Nesta toying with him." You gave her a wink while Cassian groaned.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" Nesta looked at you, but it was Rhys who answered.

"I want you to seduce him. Not into bed, but to make him realize what he might attain once he understands that we have no plans to break this alliance. To weigh the benefits more strongly than the risks."

"I'm sure you will do just fine, Nesta. I can show you all the dances so that you'll be prepared." You looked at her with bright eyes. Dancing lessons, always so fun.

"Nesta hasn't agreed to anything." Cassian snapped. "Even one dance with that prick is too much-"

"I'll do it." Nesta cut in, looking at you.

"Good" You smirked at her. "We start tomorrow."

----------------------------------------------------------

The Winter Solstice celebration was in full swing, people drinking and dancing to the beautiful music. With Rhysand and Feyre in the throne, you were sandwiched between Cassian and Azriel, the former glaring daggers at Eris' back while he danced with Nesta and the latter monitoring everything, his left wing resting lightly on your back.

"Fuck." Cassian growled. "I can't stand and watch this." He stormed off towards Mor, who was hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the throne.

"How long do you think will take them to realize?" A slow smile crept on your lips as you looked at Az.

"Realize what, Azriel?" Your innocent eyes met his cold stare. Everyone knew that they were mates. Everyone but Cassian and Nesta, apparently. And Eris, luckily.

"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." The sudden change of subject almost gave you whiplash. "As always."

His eyes roamed down your body, covered in a Night Court black dress that hugged every curve of your body. A small strip went around your neck and back, securing two pieces of fabric covering your breasts diagonally, forming a triangle that showed the tan skin of your torso, from the middle of your breasts until the top of your navel. A tight skirt was attached to it and your back was left exposed, your hair tied up in a tight ponytail that flowed down to the top of your ass. It seemed like time had stopped while Azriel's eyes covered your entire body. Finally returning to your face, his stare found your eyes and suddenly you felt a blush staining your cheeks.

"Uh..." You coughed, trying not to think too much about that stare. "Thanks, Az. You cleaned up nice, too." Winking at him, you turned to look straight once again.

Cleaning up nice wasn't enough to describe him. Az was... Az. His eyes, his body, his hair... All of him made you think the dirtiest thoughts ever. Like how his lips would feel against your skin, how having him look at you with that intensity in his eyes would feel while he was moving inside of you- Stop.

You needed to stop. You coughed again and felt Azriel looking at you again, a smirk covering his lips. Okey, maybe your smell had given away what your thoughts had been about, but he didn't know that you were thinking about him, did he?

Before you could overreact, he leaned towards you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You could feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin as he whispered. "Would you like to dance with me?"

You turned, your faces so close that your noses were almost touching, and you could see the amusement glinting in his eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, he lifted a hand in between your bodies and you took it, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Sure, Az." Your voice was higher than you'd intended, but still you plastered a cool smile on your face and lead the way to the dance floor.

A new song began just as you were settling down in a circle of couples. You could spy a glint of red hair on your peripheral vision, and you knew that Eris and Nesta were still going. Good. She seemed like she was having fun, after all.

The music began and both of you bowed, presenting yourselves to one another. He offered one of his hands and you gladly took it, taking one step closer to him. His other hand snaked across your waist and settled on your back. It was cold compared to your burning skin, and you could feel a shiver running up your back. Trying to suppress it, you forced yourself to look up at Azriel, a small sigh leaving your lips.

He was handsome, beautiful. The kind of person who turned heads wherever he went. A small pang of jealousy filled your chest at that thought and you shoved it down. It was ridiculous. You and Az were nothing, even though your chemistry was something else, that was for sure.

Azriel began moving, leading both of you graciously across the dance floor.

"I'm always surprised to see how good of a dancer you are." You were looking at his shoulder, trying to calm down the raging fire burning your insides.

"You'll be surprised to know how good I am at many things, (Y/N)." You could feel his smile as he said the words, and it was clear that he was aware of your body. Of the goosebumps, of your galloping heart and of the sweet, imperceptible to everyone but him smell of your arousal.

You tilted your head back, looking him in the eye, and the color stained your cheeks as you already found him looking at you. And then you felt it too. His slightly dilated pupils, his tongue swipping on his bottom lip and... His smell. It was just a slight change, you wouldn't even have noticed it if it weren't for the way he was looking at you. But there it was. Something muskier, rougher. Darker.

"You could show me, you know." The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

You were always teasing Azriel, making jokes, giving him shit for always being so mysterious. But this felt different. It seemed like the whole room vanished and you were the only ones dancing around. His hand tightened on our back, bringing your body impossibly closer to him. You could feel his heart through your own chest, and a knowing smirk creeped over your face as you realized that it was beating as fast as yours. Azriel leaned once more, his mouth caressing your ear.

"I've been waiting to show you for a long, long time, (Y/N)." His voice was deeper, and you had a hard time suppressing a moan.

He moved away and you almost whined until you realized that the dance was over. You were about to grab his hand again and demand to know more about what he just said when Cassian appeared.

"Az, I need you to go dance with Nesta, please." He signaled with his head towards the throne. "Eris is talking with Rhys and I need to know what's going on."

"Sure, brother."

Cassian sprinted towards Mor once more and you were observing your High Lord and High Lady. Rhys wore a cool smile, just like Feyre, but you could sense the worry in her eyes. You didn't even see Azriel moving until the front of his body was flushed against your back, his hands possessively gripping your hips.

"Tonight is the night I'll show you everything that I'm good at." He lowered his head, pressing a quick kiss just below your ear. "And I'll show you everything I've been dying to do to you."

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head and you were about to become jelly in his hands, but you managed to turn around quickly, grabbing one of his hands before he could slip away.

"Make it a promise, Shadowsinger."

Azriel smiled and winked at you, before he went to find Nesta as the next dance began.

[littlefireball]

May I please request a Yeosang x reader x Seongwha smut. Where yeosang is a virgin and so is reader and seongwha set up so yeosang can lose his virginity unknowingly the reader was a virgin so they went at it and reader started to bleed and freak out and Yeosang helped her settle down and called Seongwha to come in and help etc?

hmm sorry im not sure i understand so i write this request based on my own understanding.

ʏꜱ|ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ (ᴍ) ꜰᴛ. ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ(??)|ᴄʟɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

Masterlist

Dragon hybrids, like werewolves, usually find their soulmate after their first shift which is between the age 18 to 20. Yet, there is a difference. If that dragon hybrid doesn't mark their mate, they can be marked by others which means their soulmate can be 'stolen'.

"You still haven't marked Y/N yet?!"Seonghwa nearly exclaimed in disbelief upon learning that you and Yeosang had not yet mated. "We are not prepared," Yeosang mumbled, feeling embarrassed as he nervously scratched his neck.

"C'mon, Yeosang. You know it's risky if you don't mark her." "I know but…" To be honest, Seonghwa couldn't imagine Yeosang marking you as he was too innocent to do that. But, it was necessary. Seonghwa's mate had been 'stolen' because he believed they weren't ready for mating, just like what Yeosang thought, and tragedy ensued. The painful and sorrowful memories were still fresh, and he never wanted Yeosang to go through that.

"Sangie~" You rushed to Yeosang once you found Yeosang and Seonghwa were resting in the pavilion, back hugging yeosang and nuzzling his neck. You loved his oud wood scent. "Have you finished training?" He gently caressed your head, smiling lovingly. "Yah!I ranked first today. Did I do well?" You nodded as a fool, acting so cute. "My baby is always doing well." He pecked at your cheek, his gaze wall full of affection.

"Okay, you two. I'm still here." Seonghwa said helplessly, covering his face as if he was watching something embarrassing. "Oh sorry, Seonghwa." You trailed off, offering an embarrassing smile.

"Y/N you want a fly?" Yeosang asked. "Sure." "Okay, then you two go to fly and don't be hovey-dovey in front of me." You two nodded as you spread your wings and flew to the sky, disappearing from Seonghwa's gaze.

"Sigh Maybe I have to do something to help them." Seonghwa decided.

—----

You both embraced each other on the lush green grass, relishing in the serene moments. While some may find it mundane to simply recline on the earth and engage in idleness, you both found joy in it as well. After all, you were soulmates.

"Y/N?" "Hm?" You raised your head to meet his gentle gaze. "I have something to ask you…" "What? Honey." "You are my mate and I know it is risky not to mark you." Yeosang trailed off, feeling embarrassed as blush creeped up his face. You didn't say anything but just looked at him getting closer to your lips. "What do you think about this?" He brushed your lips with his thumb, whispering softly. "I…" A sudden ringing phone cut you off, Yeosang took out his phone and 'Seonghwa hyung' flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" Seonghwa's angry face displayed on the screen, you knew something bad happened. "Yeosang, you better come back now. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU'VE MADE!" The camera panned to reveal a charred section of the kitchen, evidence of a forgotten stove. "Oh my god! I'm back right now!" Both of you flew back to their shared house as fast as possible, without noticing that it was only a fake image.

"Seonghwa hyung?" The house stood empty, devoid of any signs of a burnt stove. All seemed in perfect order, as if untouched by any mishap. "Why did he call us then?" Yeosang inquired, to which you simply shrugged. "Yet, do you not detect a special fragrance?" Upon stepping inside, a delightful aroma embraced you like a warmth, causing both your body temperatures to soar.

"Is it from you?Y/N?" You could tell Yeosang's gaze was full of lust, his tone became even deeper. Actually, that special fragrance was yours, just enhanced. Yeosang's oud wood scent enveloped you like a hot wave; and your musk scent crushed his sanity.

Both of you got nuts.

"You smell so good, Y/N." Yeosang's longing surged like a wild creature unleashed from its confines, compelling him to assert his dominance over you. He found himself unable to resist drawing you close, burying his face in your neck, savoring your intoxicating aroma. "Yeo…yeosang." Instinctively, you tilted your head, granting him greater proximity, sensing his hold grow stronger.

"No, it's not enough." He whispered softly against your delicate skin before swiftly removing your top. Yeosang was overcome with desire, lavishing kisses on every inch of your body as he tore your garments apart. You were taken aback by his sudden intensity, yet you couldn't bring yourself to halt his actions. He lifted you onto the table, causing items to crash to the floor. The noise of shattered objects failed to rouse him from his trance; his mind was consumed by your intoxicating scent.

You grabbed the edge of the table tightly to support yourself, watching him bury his face in your lower core. Pulling the hem of your panties to the side, he sucked and kissed your clit without a second thought. "Fuck!" You screamed at the sudden touch of wet muscle, making him suck harder and lick quicker. "Baby, you taste so good." He whispered against your clit before standing up to undress himself. Due to his lack of patience, he found himself in a rush. Enraged, he swiftly tore off his garments, causing the fabric to drape on each side of his well-built physique and you swallowed hard at this sense.

"Mine." He pulled out his cock and eased into you in one go, making you throw your head. Yet, he didn't allow you a moment to adjust as he proceeded with such intensity and speed. You furrowed your brow and clenched your lip to bear the discomfort, assuming it was usual. Yet, the discomfort jolted you awake from the longing. With each collision, it seemed as though you were being struck by a boulder, prompting you to hiss.

"Yeosang, yeosang." You attempted to halt him, yet he remained oblivious to your murmur. Your warmth, your fragrance, every aspect of you sent him into a frenzy. He drew his hips and shoved into you with all his might. "Oh!Fuck!!It hurts!Please stop, yeosang!" The sharp pain became unbearable and you shouted out, making yeosang stop immediately as his sanity came back.

"Baby?Baby?Are you alright?I…I…I'm sorry." He was heartbroken when he saw you cry, and couldn't believe what he had done to you. "Oh my god, you're bleeding." "What?!"As he withdrew slowly, he found that the blood was staining on his member and even dripping onto your thighs. You freaked out, not sure when it would stop. "It must hurt, I'm sorry, honey." Yeosang comforted you as he swept your tears and caressed your cheek with all his gentleness.

"Don't be that rough…" "Yah, yah, I'm sorry." He murmured softly before placing a tender kiss on your cheek; you enveloped him in a warm embrace, yearning for comfort. But, both of you felt bad now, not only because of the pain he caused, but also from the fiery desire that still raged within your bodies. "Please fuck me one more time, I need you, sangie." You begged, feeling the emptiness was unbearable.

You needed him to fill you up, with his knot.

"But…what if I hurt you again? And you have to stop bleeding first." He asked with concern. "Please, please, please." You relinquished control as the tumultuous emotions unsettled you; yearning for his return, you extended your tail to ensnare his thigh and draw him near, yet the pain he caused just now gave you pause.

Feeling his tip rubbed against your entrance sent you a numbness through your body. Yes, that's what you wanted. Yeosang, however, stopped you before you could have a further process, causing you to whine in dissatisfaction.

"Baby, wait for a second. Hm?" You shook your head and pouted. "Be a good girl," He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, pecking at your cheek. "Let me help you stop bleeding first, okay? And I'll call Seonghwa hyung for help."

—---

"Need some help?" Seonghwa entered the room without a second thought once he received Yeosang's message for help, not realizing the fragrance was still lingering. Shit. Your musk scent was so freaking good to drive him crazy. "Oh gosh…" Seonghwa growled in a deep voice as he found you hugging Yeosang naked like a koala.

He wanted to fuck you, too.

"Seonghwa hyung, we need your help." Seonghwa clenched fists to keep calm, coming to both of you. "Wh─what you need…need me?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze from your beautiful figure. "Please, teach me how to mark her." Yeosang's words made his eyes widened at surprise, he never expected this kind of request. "I hurt her but I can't just leave her…Did you get it…?" "Well, what you need to do is treat her gently." He swallowed hard as he got closer to you, feeling all the heat rush to his tip.

Seonghwa walked to you, his fingertip shaking at the moment he touched your back. His hands shifted to your thighs, lifting you up and whispering in your ears, "Sit on him, girl." Aiming at Yeosang's arched cock, you slowly sunk down and hissed at slight pain. "Take it slow and don't be too rough. That's it." Seonghwa's deep voice sent shiver down your spine, not to mention his breath landed against your skin, making your heartbeat raise up.

Your head rested on Yeosang's chest for a while, but still not moving. This position allowed Yeosang to nestle so deep inside you, each small movement could stimulate you. "I-I need help…" You asked for help as you were afraid of pain to move. "It's okay, honey." Yeosang brought you into a passionate kiss by cupping your face, sucking your lips slightly while starting to thrust upward. But again, you frowned because it was uncomfortable.

He was too big for you, maybe.

"Hey hey, slow it down, Yeosang." Seonghwa climbed onto the bed and sat behind you. "Try to relax, don't be so intense, Y/N." "Can you help her? Seonghwa hyung." "Wh…Are you sure?" "Yes, please help me, Seonghwa." "I won't mark her, I promise."

Seonghwa's hand trailed down to your clit, giving it a soft press before rubbing it at a quick pace. "Shit…" You whispered softly as you sensed his strong chest against your delicate back. Seonghwa skillfully moved his lower core closer to your ass, caressing it with his curved crotch; Yeosang, on the other hand, firmly held your chin to claim you into a hungry kiss.

You could feel how Seonghwa's cock nestled between your tight asses and Yeosang's member twitched each time you let out a moan. Seonghwa traced circles with his finger, occasionally tapping it, sending ripples of ecstasy through you. As the kiss broke, a newfound confidence surged within you, compelling you to bounce with desire. You mirrored Seonghwa's rhythm, bouncing up and down, maintaining a steady tempo.

"You're so good, babe." Yeosang rolled his eyes at the back as his tip reached the deepest part when you sunk down. The sensation of numbness just like an electricity ran through the whole body, making you both moan so loud. "Doing well, Y/N." Seonghwa encouraged you.

"Fuck!" You let out a soft whimper as their pace quickened. Yeosang surged upward, striking your most sensitive spot perfectly, causing your walls to clench around him. "I must claim you now," he declared, his size increasing as he prepared to knot you. With a firm grip on your waist, Yeosang leaned in closer. "Oh my!" Your head nestled against Seonghwa's chest, his crotch sunk deeper, eliciting a shared moan that lingered on both your lips.

Yeosang buried his face into the crook of your neck while thrusting as fast as possible. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, making blood flow out a little bit. Yeosang never felt this excitement before, causing him to almost cum. Seonghwa continued to tap and caressed your clit, moving faster to follow Yeosang's thrust.

"Fuck!!" Suddenly, a sharp pain spread throughout the body. Yeosang's cock entered your most intimate space and locked in. His thrusting was ruthless, trying to reach his peak. "Yeo…yeosang." You shutted your eyes and panted heavily, the pain was shifted to pleasure after a few powerful thrust. "Baby, cum with me and be mine." His words pushed you to the edge, coming hard on his cock. Yeosang bit your chest and released it all after a while, finishing the marking.

"Oh god…"Yeosang laid beside the bed and pulled you into his arms. "You alright?Honey." "Yah, I'm ok." Three of you wheezed and sweated profusely. "Thank you, hyung." "Nothing, just remember to clean up is ok." He rested his arm on his forehead, finding a wet spot on his crotch. Alas, it was hard to clean. Screw it!

"But wait a minute…" Yeosang gazed at Seonghwa with shock. "You call us back but there is no burnt stove!" Seonghwa stammered, not knowing how to respond. "You fool us!" "Wait─aww…" "What a horrible hyung!" "Wh─I just…sigh fine…" But, it may not be bad at all because you finally became his, forever his.

[yeoosaangg]

៹ ALL MINE || KINKTOBER ─ DAY 19

➛ PAIRING:: LEE JENO × FEM!READER

➛ NOW PLAYING:: ALL MINE — PLAZA

⤷ ❝MAN, I DIDN'T WANT THIS ALL, BELIEVE ME. I WOULD'VE BEEN SO GONE, BUT HER SEX SO STRONG.❞

➛ GENRE:: BOYFRIEND'S!BESTFRIEND, NON-IDOL!AU, SMUT

➛ WARNINGS:: SIZE KINK, BREEDING KINK, DEGRADATION, GETTING CAUGHT, INFIDELITY, ROUGH SEX, SPITTING, THROAT FUCKING

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

Jeno did not expect for this to go as long as it has.

You're his best friend's girlfriend, yet he folded the second you showed interest in him.

You are his own personal drug.

No matter how hard he tried to stay away, he comes crawling back when you ask him to.

And he can't help but love the fact that you're smaller than him. His hands and body engulf you, and it has his dick jumping for more.

That's why he's currently got you pinned against your boyfriend's mattress.

Just like he's always had you.

You're a moaning mess as he slams his giant cock into your tight hole. His hands push your legs against your chest, fingers digging into your flesh with a hiss.

Jeno: You're such a fucking whore, Y/n. Getting fucked dumb by your boyfriend's best friend. What if he were to come back early, hm?

You knew it was risky, always luring Jeno into his roommate's bedroom to fuck you. But you don't care anymore.

You just want him so bad.

Jeno: My cock keeps opening you up, baby. Soon, it'll fit me perfectly. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be my personal cocksleeve?

You scream, clawing at the sheets below you as he pins you down in a mating press.

There's something about the way your mouth falls open with broken moans slipping out that keeps his cock hard. He just keeps fucking you deeper into the mattress, hips bruising your ass.

Both of you cum for the third time that night.

He moans into your mouth as he fills your cunt again, mixing with his other two loads inside you.

Jeno: What'll Jaemin think when you get pregnant, Y/n? Don't think I'd just let you run around playing house with my fucking kid.

You're crying in oversensitivity. He still doesn't pull away for you to take a much needed break. But he also knows that if you truly wanted him to get off, you'd call the safe word.

Jeno: He'll understand, won't he? Why the kid will look like me instead of him? Why your slutty cunt doesn't get wet for him anymore?

His weight on top of you was too much, but the way his cock hits the deepest part of your insides has you drooling all over yourself.

Jeno: Can't speak now, can you? Where's the bitch that was begging me to fuck her two hours ago?

You whine, squeezing your tits as he sits up and pushes your legs over his shoulders.

He presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he pumps his cock along your dripping walls. He kisses you deeply, both of you moaning in each other's mouth.

He feels you squeeze his cock, squirting all over him again. He smirks against your lips as he pulls out of your swollen pussy.

You whine at the loss of his cock, but gasp when he straddles your head.

Jeno: Come on, baby. Put your mouth to good use as my cum drips out of your cunt.

You obediently open your mouth for him to fuck your face. He always gets surprised at your lack of gag reflex - it just adds to his desire to destroy you.

His hips stutter against your nose, holding onto your hair so he can get as deep down your throat as possible. You look up at him with droopy eyes, moaning on his cock.

Jeno: You're so fucking nasty. Look at you letting me abuse your face.

He bites his lip, not breaking the eye contact as he shoots another load down your throat. The hard look in his eyes as he continues thrusting his hips has you cumming untouched.

He pulls away, grabbing your chin harshly. He spits in your mouth and demands you to swallow. You obey, opening your mouth for him to see that you listened.

Jeno: Good girl.

Jaemin: What the fuck?

Oh shit.

═══

a/n: i wonder if anyone's gonna notice what i did... ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ thank you for reading ‹𝟹

[ncis-nerd]

Don't you worry darling

theatre actor r! x stage manager!natasha romanov

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, sensory issues, panic attacks, crying.

Marvel Masterlist

a/n: not based off true events .. juliet if you see this... no u don't 😭

"Dude!! You're clothes are getting wet!!" Your castmate, Kate exclaimed. "Huh?" You looked at her confused. Your clothes were sitting perfectly on top of your bag, on the chair..Were they not?

Your eyes glanced towards the chair where your stuff resided at, and there were gone. SHIT- You rushed to pick it up from the tray of water but it was too late, the damage was done.

You were in an off Broadway play, sharing a dressing room with 13 of your cast mates, plus the guys from the other play. They kept the room so disgusting and you got the smaller room out of the two. But at least yours had a window and now had air conditioning. A downside to the air conditioning is that it would leak, so they had to get a tray to let the water fall into.

You knew it was risky putting your stuff so close to it but you just wanted to stay out of people's way. It was hard being squeezed into a tight, sweaty dressing room with 13 other people.

So of course, you didn't know how to react when you picked up your shirt, hoodie and pants, all drenched in the freezing water bin. Stupidly, you left it on top of your bag and rushed out. Keep it together, keep it together. Don't cry. You locked yourself in the bathroom, tossing cold water onto your very red face. Tears streamed down your face.

What were you suppose to do? Your clothes to change back into were wet, you can't wear your costume home and you'll get sick wearing wet clothes on a 2 hour train ride back home. Not to mention uncomfortable, due to the texture.

After a minute of attempting to calm yourself down, you exit the bathroom. As you open the door to the dressing room, you noticed members form the other cast have migrated in there as well, like Tony, Steve, Bucky, etc. "Y/N! Come join us in cards!!" Maria exclaimed. "No.. it's okay" you mumbled, as they shut the door.

It was way too crowded in there and you did not want to go in there. Instead, you looked for your director Natasha or the stage member Wanda or literally anyone that could help. But no one was there, so you stood there pacing. Don't start crying again, don't start crying. Your hand rose, taking its place on your scalp. Your fingers ran down your hair, a nervous tick of yours.

Finally, after fighting back years, you start to feel drops run down your face. "Yeah and she said- hold on I'll be right back!" You heard 2 of your cast mates, Kate and Yelena speak. You saw them when you came out of the bathroom but they went down the hall to gossip. Kate went into the bathroom and Yelena made her way back down the hall, towards you.

Dammit- she's gonna see me crying.. As Yelena starts to walk down the hall, she finds you crying in the corner. "Y/n- are you okay??" She spoke, her expressed worried. "I-i" You saw your assistant manager enter backstage.

Her eyes trailed onto yours, the brunette obviously concerned about you. "Someone knocked my clothes into the water and now it's all wet" you sniffles, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. A hitch in your breath and you could feel snot running down your face.

"Hey. Hey. It's gonna be all right, okay? We've got extra clothes, okay? Are wet clothes a texture thing for you?" Wanda, your assistant manager asked.

"No but it's gonna be uncomfortable wearing wet clothes for a 2 hour commute home" you said, wiping the tears from your face.

"I see you're an overthinker but try not to worry. We have dryers. I could put your clothes to dry?" The brunette asked.

"It's on the blue bag, close to the water tray. It's a hoodie, shirt and pants." You stuttered, trying to get your words out. "Okay, thank you, Y/n, I'll go grab it right now. Don't worry" she spoke softly.

You nodded as she entered the room, you saw her come back out with your clothes in her hand. "Luckily it's not too wet but I'll still go ahead and dry that for you." She smiled.

As the brunette left, you sat by the door. Not wanting to go back in the crowded room. You heard a loud "YEAH!!" or stomp or overall odd sound, come from the room. "That can't be good.." Wanda sighed, not bothering to go check it out.

Yelena and Kate, and a few other people from the other play whom you didn't know were chilling outside the room, so you just sat there with them. Not paying much attention to their conversations, just on your phone.

"I WIN!!" A voice screams from the room. "That sounds..." Kate trailed off. "Welcome to my world!" Wanda hummed, making her way back on stage.

--

FUCK, how could you be so stupid! You finally mastered your cues but managed to fuck up the one line you had. Everyone else did so good! "And I don't!" Mj exclaimed. Shocking everyone with how much she had improved in practing her monolouge. Your castmates went over to praise her. "You did so good!" "MJ THAT WAS AMAZING!!" you join them for a moment but then you dig your fingers into your palm. Don't you start crying. Not here, in front of them.

You made your way back to the dressing room, with the other girls. Yesterday you saw Maria sit under the dresser counter, it looked comfortable and most of all- isolated. You sat down, bumping your head in the procress. "Ouchh" you groan softly.

Your head took it place on your knees, you covered your face and began to sob quietly, you literally have the easiest job. Only 2 lines, and a few cues. It's not that hard. How could you screw that up?

"Time for notes!" Your stage manager Natasha exclaimed, entering the room. You didn't budge but no one seemed to notice you and you were greatful for that.

"Maria you really surprised us all back there, that was incredible!" Natasha smiled, praising the girl. "Yeah that was epic!" Another voice said. You recognized it, it was May, another one of the managers. You thought it was only Natasha there, is Wanda also there?

"And y/n?" Natasha paused. "Y/N? Are they asleep? Are they okay?" You heard her speak. A bunch of mumbles filled your ears, they were overly sensitive like that. Natasha took the hint to move on after no movement or words from you.

After the managers had left, they said you and your cast could change out of costumes and were dismissed. You rushed out, making a run for the bathroom before it got crowded. You had snot dripping down your shirt and needed to wash your face.

When you were done, you looked around. For someone, Natasha or Wanda. To explain what had happened and that you weren't just slacking off. But you saw no one. Kate left the dressing room, "Hey have you seen Wanda?" You mumbled, trying not to cry. You felt a big gulp in your throat. "Yeah I think she might be on stage." Kate smiled softly. "Could you get her for me, please?" You mumbled, once again fidgeting with your fingers. Kate nodded and you stood backstage, waiting. As she left, Natasha entered. "Hey! Y/N? What happened?" Natasha spoke softly, with an ounce of concern in her voice. Her face filled with sympathy. "Do you want to talk?" You nodded and thats when Wanda entered the room. They led you out of the theater and somewhere more private to speak.

You were nervous about being in there because the company that owns the theater had told you guys that you weren't allowed to hang out or be in there. But you ignored it, as they were trying to be accommodating to the best they could.

You took a seat next to Natasha, Wanda standing. "I forgot my lines, I froze and I forgot my lines but everyone else did so good." You sniffled. "Hey, it's okay. You messed up but you know that you did, you know you made a mistake so that's progress! Is there anything you need?" Natasha spoke softly, her eyes focused on your teary ones. "...Water" you mumbled, Natasha and Wanda left the room. Natasha was the first to return with a cup of water. "Wanda went to check on your clothes." Natasha said, when you noticed that Wanda was gone.

You nodded and tried to break the silence. "Do you have any notes for me?" You asked. "Are you sure you want to hear that right now?" Natasha shot you a hesitant look. You nodded, "Yeah, please?" "Alright, if that's what you want. Could you be louder in the songs? We couldn't quite hear you from the back. And then there's the note about how you froze but you know so that's pretty much it." Natasha spoke softly.

Wanda entered the room, with your clothes and a shirt. "So your clothes are mostly dried, your shirts still a little wet. We can leave that here to dry, I gave you my shirt." Wanda smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder for support, before she left. "I-im gonna go change, if that's okay?" You spoke. Natasha nodded.

..

this baby has been sitting in my drafts for months bruh. pls don't flop i know there's barely any intimacy but i wanted to try to keep it as real as possible

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Part 14

Eris x Azriel's Sister OC

Summary: Estella is the younger sister of Azriel. Like her older brother, she is a shadowsinger and spymaster for the Night Court. When she meets Eris, she initially despises him, but after a bargain is made between them, and they are stuck Under the Mountain together, things begin heating up.

CW: Insecurities

Word Count: 2191

Series Masterlist

Part 13 || Part 15(upcoming)

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year: 39 Year Under the Mountain: 35

     Estella spent the next five years avoiding Eris at all costs. Not that it was hard, as her mate was doing the same to her. She missed him—missed being in his arms. She missed the sex, the attention, the affection, and everything that came with it.

     But what he had said to her hit her hard. It had struck a chord so deep in her, bringing back insecurities she thought she had already gotten over. Still, that bond in her chest longed for him. It longed for his embrace.

     Things had been lonely without him. She tried to seek out Rhysand more often, and he did his best to be there for her. But he couldn't always, and she understood that. 

     She was lying in his bed, waiting for him to return from the throne room. Her wings wrapped around her body, her knees pulled to her chest.

     Every day that she ignored the bond in her chest, every time she avoided Eris's gaze, her heart broke a little more.

      He had finally begun growing soft with her. He had been showing her a sweet side of himself. But she had pushed too hard, and his walls had gone back up. He had been cruel, yes, but part of her wondered if she had deserved it.

     Her gaze slowly slid to the door as it creaked open. Rhysand grimaced as he took her in. It was risky not to notify him before seeking him out. She knew that. But she was so lonely.

"What have I told you about--"

"I know, I know," she cut him off with a grumble. "But I really needed company."

"You don't look well," he acknowledged, sitting down next to her. 

"Thanks," she glared, fidgeting with the gloves on her hands.

"You've been wearing gloves a lot lately," he observed as he eyed them. "You used to do that as a teenager, but I thought you got over it."

"It's cold down here," she shrugged, her cheeks flushing.

"Did somebody say something?" he asked gently.

     She didn't meet his eyes as she shook her head, Eris's words replaying through it. He didn't seem to believe her, but he let it go.

"You'll never guess who approached me yesterday," Rhys mused. Estella hummed in response, turning her head to look up at him. "Eris Vanserra."

     It took great effort to school her features, to keep them from revealing everything that was going through her mind. Estella remembered everything Azriel taught her about that, and she kept her face expressionless.

"Really?"

"He wants to make a bargain," he scoffed. "He wants our help killing Beron."

"Oh," Estella said softly, brows furrowing. "In exchange for what?"

"Well, he's no idiot," Rhys said. "He knows that if we get out of this mountain, there will be a war. He's offering to be our ally in the war."

"We could use that," Estella said, sighing deeply. "If we ever get out of here."

"We will, Stella," Rhys assured her, nudging her shoulder with his. "But I told him I'd think about it."

"Do you trust him?" Estella dared to ask, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"Not in the slightest," Rhys snorted. "But if we make a bargain, he'd be unable to betray us, unless he wanted to die." Estella hid her wince. "And I have to admit, I wouldn't mind seeing Beron in the ground."

"Me neither," she murmured.

"Eris is a cruel snake," Rhys acknowledged with a grimace. "But he's not as cruel as Beron. And while I don't particularly want to see him on the throne, having Beron off of it would be beneficial for all of Prythian."

"Especially the Lady of Autumn," Estella said, thinking of the bruises she saw on the lady's wrist half a decade ago.

"Well, it would be good for her, yes," Rhys nodded. "Eris tries to hide it from everyone, but it's obvious he cares for his mother."

"Yes," Estella agreed, thinking of how fiercely he defended her when Estella brought her up.

     A tug at her chest brought her out of her thoughts. She frowned, cringing at the new sensation. As if someone had a rope around her heart and was yanking on it.

     It was incessant, a sensation she'd never even felt during the highest climaxes with him. He was calling her like a dog, and she hated the feeling.

"I love you, Rhys," Estella said to her brother, sitting up. "Thanks for keeping me company."

     Estella kissed his cheek, and then was out the door. She was fuming as she stormed down the corridors, the string getting tauter as she neared his bedroom.

     She stormed into the room, ready to confront him for the first time in five years. She slammed the door behind her, and let her anger explode down the bond.

"What the fuck was that?" she snapped, hand on her chest.

     Estella was not met with the smirking male she expected.

     No, he was sprawled on his bed, shirt unbuttoned, a nearly empty bottle of wine in his hand. His eyelids were fluttering open and closed, his hair a mess.

"Are you drunk?" she demanded, nearing his bed.

"I want you," he slurred his words, reaching out to grab her hip.

     Estella sighed, taking the bottle from his hand. He verbally protested, but couldn't move fast enough to take it back.

"You're a mess," Estella cringed, wrinkling her nose.

"You're a mess," he shot back, glaring at her.

     She pursed her lips, studying his features. She'd seen him drunk, but never liked this. He'd be furious with himself for seeking her out when he sobered up.

"Come on. Let's get you in the bath," Estella decided, taking pity on him as she tried to help him sit up.

     As she got close to him, he took her face in his hands, trying to kiss her. She yanked away before he could, sending another wave of anger down the bond.

" I want you," he repeated, a slight whine in his voice that she'd never heard before.

"You don't get to do this, Eris," she scolded him. "You don't get to insult me and shut me out for five years, then expect me to fuck you whenever you want me. That's not how this works."

"I didn't mean it," he intoned, the words barely audible. She didn't know what he was referring to, but she took a deep breath, preparing herself. 

"You need a bath. Then bed. Now, come on."

     He grumbled as she helped him to his feet. She assisted him to the bathroom, turning on the hot water to the bathtub.

     He leaned against Estella, kissing her neck. But it wasn't the normal sucking and biting he used to do, the ones that left marks she always had to cover. It was small pecks, sweet kisses, more affectionate than sexual.

     She sighed, deciding to allow it. It had been so long since she'd received affection. He kissed her delicate skin, and she intertwined her fingers with his hair.

     When the tub was full, she gripped his hair and pulled his head off of her. She ignored his groaning, reaching to take his shirt off.

"I can do it myself!" he argued, yanking away from her.

     His limbs flailed as he tried to get out of his shirt, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. He eventually gave up. Estella stepped forward, and he allowed her to undress him.

     When he was bare, she did not allow her gaze to linger. She helped him into the bathtub, holding onto his hand as he lowered himself into the water.

     Eris's grip lingered on the gloves on Estella's hand. He murmured something under his breath that she didn't quite catch, then slowly slid the glove off. She tried to yank her hand away from him, but his grip was too strong.

     Eris pressed a kiss to her scarred skin, then another, then another. He peppered kisses across the burn scars, and it made her breath hitch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her skin. Estella's heart skipped a beat at the words.

"You called them repulsive," Estella said quietly, her voice trembling.

"I lied," he said, then let go of her.

     She stared at him, watching as he washed himself. I lied. Why would he lie about such a thing? Why would he purposely hurt her like that?

     When Eris was done with his bath, she helped him dry off, got him into a robe, and led him back to his bed.

"Lie on your side," she instructed as she helped him into the bed. He obeyed, to her surprise. "Good." She went to stand up, but he placed a hand on her wrist.

"Don't leave, 'Stel," he whispered. "It's been so long since I've heard your voice."

"That's your own fault, and you know it," Estella replied, raising a brow at him.

"Stay," he pleaded. "Please."

     She never heard him use the word please. It caught her off guard. Had five years without her really turned him so soft?

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," she decided. "But no longer."

     He nodded, closing his eyes. Estella watched him closely as he drifted off, and once he was asleep, she found herself unable to leave his side.

»»————-　♔　————-««

     Estella did not get a wink of sleep. She spent the entire night watching her mate as he dozed off, sleeping deeper than she thought he ever had. She'd watched him sleep before, and he had never looked so peaceful.

     He groaned before he even opened his eyes, alerting Estella that he was waking. He grunted, his eyes squinting at her.

"It's been so long since I've woken with you beside me," he mumbled, blinking furiously against the light.

"You're the one that screwed that up, so don't complain," she replied swiftly. He grimaced, but didn't deny it. "Do you remember anything about last night?"

"Bits and pieces," he admitted. "I remember tugging the bond for you. I remember you putting me in the bath. Nothing after that."

"I put you to bed after that. Nothing more," she informed him. "And you do not get the tug the bond for me. I am not a dog."

"I was drunk," he defended himself.

"I'm well aware," she scoffed. "You were acting ridiculous."

"I apologize for that," he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Yes, you apologized for a lot last night," she admitted, crossing her arms. He glanced over at her, his brow furrowing.

"I am sorry," he said. "For what I said."

"You told me it was a lie," she recalled, her back stiffening. "But you didn't elaborate."

"It was," he confessed quietly. "I've never found a single part of you repulsive."

      The words slithered their way into her heart, and made her shoulders slump with a bit of relief.

     But she didn't allow herself to throw her body onto his and kiss every inch of his face, no matter how much she wanted to. She had more self respect than that. Even if he had lied, he had still hurt her intentionally. And she needed to knownwhy.

"Then why would you say that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I was trying to drive you away," he explained. "For your own safety."

"My own safety?" she demanded, her brow quirking. "That's all?"

"That's all?" he repeated, sitting upright. "If my father found out you're my mate—"

"I know," she snapped. "I've heard the stories of Jesiminda."

"It would be worse than that," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Jesiminda was not Lucien's mate. You . . . he will make you marry me, then he will use you to control and punish me. If I step a toe out of line, he will torture you for it and make me watch. He will force you to bear my children, whether you want to or not. And if you are unable to provide them within a timely manner, then he will kill you. Slowly and painfully."

      Estella processed the words, considering if she was willing to risk that for him. And she found that when she recalled how numb and lonely she was without him, it was worth it.

"I don't scare easy," she said. "Besides, my brother would never let that happen."

"Then there would be a war for you," he said. "Autumn against Night."

"We will keep it a secret," she decided.

"My mother already knows—"

"Then, we will be more careful."

"We can't guarantee anything," he pointed out. "We could easily be seen and reported. Your brother is a Spymaster. If we get out of here, and he—"

"I am also a Spymaster," she reminded him. "And the first thing I learned was how to hide things from Az."

"I cannot have you getting hurt," he whispered, pain in his eyes.

"The only one who has hurt me lately has been you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And the guilt has been eating at me for the last five years," he stressed, his hand reaching out for hers. She yanked it away from him. "Please, 'Stel."

"It will take me a while," she said to him. "Before I let you touch me again."

"I understand," he said quietly. "I won't touch you until you're ready."

»»————-　♔　————-««

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Eris Taglist:

If there is a line through it, it won’t let me tag you.

Comment to be added to the tag lists!

»»————-　♔　————-«

[featguler]

PROLOGUE : I WON'T BE ALONE ( FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE )

jude and a couple of his academy mates decide to try the korean chicken place down his dorm's block, famous for its cheese tteokbokki and infamous for its grumpy chef. he meets a girl and shoots the first shot he does not miss that day.

prologue of ' call my bluff '

⌗ pairing : jude bellingham x female original character ⌗ wordcount : 5,743 ⌗ notes : the prologue of this brand new series!! i am so excited. also i said this in the masterlist of this series, but please don't take anything said in this fic is facts... i don't know if jude ever lived in a dorm, and i don't care enough to find out. i've also never been to birmi so... ignore all geographical matters pls. no one in this chapter is real except for jude if you would like to be added to the taglist, please do let me know! surprise surprise, this chapter was actually proofread by my friends, shin (@ludiceousml) and arya (@amigara-vault). love u guys ♡ masterlist.

mini playlist ! 𐙚 forever noah kahan : i'm glad i get forever to see where you end 𐙚 speak too soon wild rivers : i saw you when my sight was sore 𐙚 buzz niki : phone toss when it's risky and you hit send 𐙚 first day of my life bright eyes : i think i was blind before i met you 𐙚 decimal novo amor : i could be alright if you could rewrite my life

The second month of life at Birmingham City is strange. Strange, as in, it feels like floating in space. Strange, as in, it feels like something in between, like limbo. Strange, as in, Jude has not felt yet like he is where he belongs. Strange, as in, he misses Jobe the way he misses his parents the way he misses that old stain on his family sofa from when Jobe spilled boiled corn after tripping on his untied laces.

The academy is an academy, and he’ll be damned if he had not expected the dorm to be just like a dorm. But he thinks that he has widely miscalculated how concerned the people are over football here. Jude did not start out with a burning passion for football fresh out of the womb, after all, he always preferred picking flowers to bundle for his mother.

“I think I’m homesick,” he told Denise just earlier that week in a quiet call on the dorm’s emergency fire exit. “I miss Jobe so much.”

Who's to say that best friends cannot wrestle until the other bumps their leg hard enough on the edge of a coffee table to bruise? While Jude would occasionally have Jobe’s foot on his face to distract him from scoring the penalty in FIFA, they are definitely best friends. And he missed his best friend.

Denise only laughed when she heard the confession, and he felt the ghost of her fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “Homesick, or Jobesick?”

And that made Jude laugh too, because he never really considered homesick as a word containing two separate words. Never home, never sick. Just homesick. So when his mother replaced the vocal point of longing with the name of his brother, he almost faltered. A sentiment so widespread was suddenly customised to fit him.

“Yeah. Guess I’m Jobesick.”

Zakariya was sprawled across the floor of his dorm room when he suddenly began moaning about how sick he was of protein shakes and eggs for breakfast, craving the cheesebokki from that restaurant down the street. Jude wasn’t aware that he had the brain capacity to talk about anything other than Ronaldinho or his hot, older girlfriend, but there he was, practically drooling like a dog at the thought of a Korean cheat meal amongst the vegetables that they shove down your throat in the academy.

Jude’s encyclopaedia of Korean food ends with hot chicken wings, so he propped his head over a pillow, shifting to the edge of his bed to catch Zakariya’s attention.

“Cheesebokki?” He repeated, the word tasted foreign in his mouth. “Sounds good,” it didn’t sound like anything, “let’s go this sunday. After the practice match.”

“It’s spicy,” Zakariya warned, and Jude shrugged. He can handle spicy. Not any less than Zakariya, that is for sure. “Sure, man. If you think you can handle it. I’ll ask Ethan and Teddy if they wanna come along. Jamal, you should come too.”

Jude considered immediately backing off when he heard the names Zakariya brought up. He likes Zakariya. But he can’t say the same about Ethan, and Teddy, he is amicable with. Jamal, the only one he could already call a friend, couldn’t go. After matches, Sundays are reserved for church and his mother; they are about the same thing to Jamal anyway.

Jude called his mum to ask for her opinion—he’s similar to Jamal in this way—and she encouraged him to go.

“Maybe you’ll find that you and Ethan have much more in common than you initially thought.”

He doubted it. Denise was only saying that because she likes Alicia Ewart, Ethan’s mother. Ethan thinks he is too good for the academy, and Jude thinks he’s full of shit.

But he ended up going. He knows that a mother’s blessing eases the path. His mother’s especially.

No one in this world calls Olivia by her Korean name.

Haewon, to her, is simply not an interesting enough word.

She is not saying that she is anything more than ordinary, or even just an inch off of being riveting, but there are two people in just her family with her exact name: her great-aunt and a distant cousin. And despite most of Birmingham not having a clue on who those other Haewon’s are, they are, no less, two extra Haewon’s in her life.

And as a matter of fact, she was named after her great-aunt deliberately, like she is not allowed her own identity. To add icing on the cake, her Haewon translates roughly to sailor or seaman, or something like that; a name that grants nothing but strenuous expectations for her. Her great-aunt’s Haewon, however, translates to beautiful ocean.

Beautiful-Ocean-Haewon was Olivia’s grandmother’s younger sister.

Her grandmother died three months before her father turned four years old, and her grandfather before her father was even born. Yujae Jang was taken in by his aunt effective immediately. He thinks that she was so great (Olivia wouldn’t have a way of knowing as she died before she was even born). He thinks that she was what a mother is supposed to epitomise: unconditional love in a condition where condition is consequential.

But for someone who looks up to mother figures so much, Yujae sure finds it difficult to spare his own wife, the mother of his children, a cordial glance. And a man who does not respect his wife naturally despises his daughter.

He doesn’t have to say it. Olivia knows. It’s her chief theory in navigating her path; the lighthouse guiding her worn down seaboat. From the moment he named her sailor, she knew.

And she doesn’t like to admit it, but though her fragility stands on its toes, balancing on a tipping vase, what she feels, what she thinks, do not matter as much as she would like to believe. Being delicate is something she has long outgrown. It does not interest her anymore. Being frail brings nothing but heartache, and while her heart is not desensitised to stabwounds, she relishes in the fact that a straight face will save herself some embarrassment.

So, she embraces the ocean and sets sail as a seaman.

Names are meant to be prayers after all; some kind of prophecies that name-holders are cursed to fulfil. Her theory states that her father’s disappointment peaked the day she was born, and the little optimism he had gifted him a son three years later.

And this is a lot of thinking for a secondary school student, sure, but thinking crooked is something that Olivia does most days her father decides to scream at her for something trivial. She has gone from wishing him harm in her mind to taking part in the devout practice of self-pity. No one is going to calm her cries and rub her back. Not her mother, not her brother, and definitely not her father. She has got to do it herself.

Now, Philip, twelve years old, is wiping tabletops. And Olivia, fifteen years old, is trembling as she scribbles on some scratch papers, finishing her mathematics homework so that she can spend the rest of the night sobbing against her pillow.

“Welcome to Jang’s Chicken, how are you lot?”

The little bell above the heavy mahogany door  just a few feet away from the cashier counter jingles; her nose is still tainted red and her cheeks are still surrendering to the tears streaming from her eyes.

The restaurant had been so quiet just a few moments ago, and the only sound you could hear was the choir of angry utensils cling-clang-ing against one another as Yujae washes the plate. Her mother is coating raw chicken with egg yolk and flour on one corner table, quiet as she has always been. Philip is cleaning the tables, then spraying some cleaning chemical only to wipe the same spot over and over. A piece of thread could cut through the silence.

But instead of a thread, it is broken by a horde of rowdy boys. Their windbreaker is familiar: a football academy from a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. They are bustling and filled with haste, looking at everything but her, scrutinising the humble decoration of Korean calligraphy all over the creaking walls of the family restaurant.

Olivia can see the spot where her shoes were laid just as she got home from tutoring that day, where she took them off in a hurry to rush to the loo, only for her father to yell at her when she forgot to place them in the cabinet next to the entrance. Then here comes these boys—customers—with their stupid cleats still attached to each of their feet, dirtying up the freshly swept floor, not having a clue what monstrosity their action would lead to if they were Olivia.

She huffs, wiping a dripping snot with the base of her palm.

Fathers can be so evil, she thinks, but her father especially.

The Birmingham F.C. Academy students have been regulars in Jang’s Chicken since as long as Olivia could remember. A group of students from a different year, just a few days ago, had visited the restaurant. Since she started working as a cashier three years ago, they have been coming in. Since before she was even born, they have been coming in. Olivia is not fazed with football; she is not fazed with boys who play football.

She gathers her hair, tying them in a low ponytail before pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“We’re good, how are you?”

The one that looks oldest—or tallest, at least—greets before stepping forward. He grabs one of the oily, limp laminated menus from the tabletop, holding them in a way that is visible to the rest of the crowd. Olivia smiles weakly and decides to not answer the small talk.

“We should get the party box.”

Olivia rubs her nose as she hides a sniffle. “That's 16 pieces of chicken,” she uses her finger to point at a menu on the table. “You can choose up to three flavours for the party box.”

She doesn’t know if she’s gotten good at hiding the nasal in her voice, or if they were nice enough to not point out how red her eyes are. By the way the leader of the bunch glances down at her as quick as he looks away, she guesses that it’s the latter.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Lip taking a seat next to their mother. She shoots him a look and he sends her a shrug in return.

A boy peeks over the first boy’s shoulder. “What's soju?”

“That's booze,” another one slaps the back of his head lightly as Olivia focuses her attention back to them.

“We don't sell alcohol to underage customers,” she hurries in as well, and the boys nod.

“Obviously.” Murmurs of agreement rustles.

”I want the cheesebokki” — a cute way their restaurant had shortened ‘cheese tteokbokki’ — “and a can o’ Coke.”

A scoff escapes their leader. “Last time you got that, you shitted yourself for a week, didntcha, mate?”

Collective groans emit from the group and Olivia scrunches her nose.

”Not in front of the lady, E,” the cheesebokki enjoyer turns red. “Besides! It’s good,” his hand smacks the chest of a boy closest to him, “and Judey here says he’ll share with me.”

Olivia only smiles, just to be polite, and to hold back a sigh.

Jude has been watching the cashier girl from the back of the group.

The whole walk to Jang’s Chicken, he has been out of it. Nobody has mentioned it, so he thinks that maybe nobody noticed the way he shuffles quietly behind the other three, hands nuzzled deep in his outer. He pretends his huffs were for the cold and kicks invisible rocks to distract his own mind.

He made four chances at scoring just earlier, but none of them made it past the goalpost. And Jude is young enough to want to blame it on anyone else but him, but he is also mature enough to understand that it was nobody else’s fault but his own. The goalkeeper was always distracted, and there were no defenders trying to tackle the ball out of his feet. It was his muddled mind, he thinks, that the ball kept flying over the post.

He has been out of it, and the one to pull him out of being out of it is that cashier girl.

Nasally voice, weakly greeting them. It's her glasses that he notices first. They are big—definitely too big for her tiny face—with red frames taped up in the middle and on the sides. His eyes then travel to the bridge of her nose, and wouldn't you know it, the tip of her nose is tainted the same shade of scarlet.

He wonders why he finds it endearing: the way she holds back sniffles, the way she points out to the menu in exhalation. The more he examines her face, the more he sees her damp cheeks, her lips parting to make way for her breath, and the more is he drawn in. Strands of her hair keep falling even after she tugs them behind her ears, monotonically responding to his friend’s inquiries.

The back of Zakariya’s hand meets Jude chest, and he is taken out of his reverie, humming in agreement at whatever he had said.

“Guess we’ll do the party box, then?”

“Sure,” Jude’s murmurs blend in with the rest. He’s got no energy to go against Ethan. He’s there for the cheesebokki, anyway, and a chance of creating bountiful friendship with boys who are neither Jobe nor Jamal. Not chicken wings.

“‘lright then, the party box, one cheesebokki, and four can ‘o coke.”

She nods and pushes some buttons on the cashier, a loud and ancient machine that looks like someone’s prized possession that they would proudly reveal is older than him. For a moment, his gaze wanders to the fading football stickers—Ronaldo, Spurs, Real Madrid, Benzema, Marcelo—placed arbitrarily all over its body before going back to her.

“Which sauces would you like to go with?”

Honey mustard dip, sweet and sour sauce, and fire buffalo sauce.

Olivia cannot think of a combination more basic.

Teddy whips out his mother’s credit card in an instance, briefly telling the group to ping him their share of the money, and Zakariya complains about how he only has cash. Jude barely registers their banter.

They sit just far enough away from the lady and the boy dipping raw chicken to flour so that they wouldn’t hear their conversations, but close enough for the aroma of freshly fried chicken to wander out of the kitchen window and spike up his nose. He slides a chair out, a barrel of some sort with a wooden back nailed on to it.

Teddy takes the seat beside him. “You’ve been distracted, Judey.”

“I have,” as he sits, Jude looks back at the cashier. The girl is now at the counter, furiously holding back her bangs as she grips her pencil harder. “Think I should ask for her number?”

Teddy shrugs after a small laugh. Jude turns to him with an eyebrow raised. “Well, do whatever you want, but her dad’s a bit…”

“Evil,” Ethan interjects.

Zakariya scoffs. “‘Evil’s a bit of a big word ain’t it, E?”

Ethan grabs a pair of chopsticks Jude knows damn well he is not going to use, and fiddles with it, contending it against each other. “Well, he’s grumpy, that’s for sure.”

“My dad can be grumpy,” Jude insists, like he needs any of their permission. “Reckon her dad won't mind a nice young man like me asking for ‘er number.”

“Nice young man,” Ethan repeats, a little too mockingly to Jude’s liking. 

“Well, I am a nice young man.”

“You’re a young man, that’s what you are,” Zakariya laughs, piling on Ethan’s mockery and they bump shoulders in mischief cackles. Jude shoots them a glare.

“You know what? I say do it,” Teddy grazes his knee against Jude’s. Jude looks at him funny. “Just do it, bruv, take the shot. Ethan’s just bitter ‘cuz he tried talking to her too.”

“Yeah?” At the short smirk on Teddy’s lips, curiosity creeps up Jude’s nerves, eyeing Ethan across from him. Teddy had just officially graduated from being on his amicable list to his like list. “So you got her number?”

“Ha,” a cynical snicker leaves Ethan’s lips. “Obviously not. Her dad got between us.”

“Evil,” Jude repeats, and the rest of the boys nod.

“Evil.”

Mr. Paisley, Olivia’s homeroom, insists that there is no absolute truth in the world except the truths that are backed with numbers. He’s a mathematics teacher, so it makes sense. And to Olivia, one plus one is, definitely, equal to two. But the absolute truth does not interest her, now, does it? Truths, not-truths. None of these really matters in the long run. What matters is how she is going to mend relationships she would not want to mend; whether she will grow up to be more her mother or more her father.

The scrap papers she is scribbling maths equations on was picked up from the large trash bin behind the church her parents go to. She doesn’t go, she is not interested, but her mother would occasionally come home to gift her and Philip excess church brochures that they can use to count, or write, on.

It’s the little ways that they save money. The anxiety that comes with having none was brought down to the children, even when they were born after the years where money had been a problem. That’s just how her family is: rigid, stiff, stationary. It’s the same way she is gripping on her pencil, with the tip of her fingers beginning to hurt, her nail beds turning red against her skin, pale for not having eaten anything aside from three slices of canned peach since breakfast.

“Hey.”

But just like that, her endless stream of self-loathing, maths-loathing, church-brochures-loathing, and Mr. Paisley-loathing thoughts are over.

Olivia slants her eyes as she tries to gain a better look at the boy calling out to her behind her foggy glasses. He is a part of the academy group—the logo, she knows, and that there are no other customers in the restaurant aside from them.

“I’ll have another side,” he offers her a short grin, taking one hand from the pocket of his windbreaker to pick up the menu, “the nuggets.”

She clears her throat against her fist, nodding her head as she stands. “A moment please,” Olivia steps sideways to the cashier, already forgetting what he looks like. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose again. “Nuggets, you can get the sweet and sour sauce with it, or the barbeque for an extra Pound and a half.”

“A pound and a half?”

“Yeah.”

He lets out a chuckle. “I’ll just do the sweet and sour sauce. It’s better anyway, yeah?”

“I like it better,” Olivia entertains the banter with a light laugh, rubbing the tip of her nose. There is a deep silence between them just for a second. “That’ll be seven and a half, please.”

“You’re crying.”

Olivia’s head snaps up.

She sees him in great clarity this time. He didn’t speak much if at all when his crowd were ordering, and she had not cared enough to examine the boy who had paid for their food, moreover some shorter lad on the back of the group. But there he stands before her, voice light yet thick—though no thicker than her brother’s brummie as she notes.

“Pardon me?”

The situation is so jarring that Olivia cannot help but be offended, even when she knows that she has been crying—is crying, even. She sniffles and feels another tear roll down her cheek.

“Nevermind,” he shakes his head. She watches the way his nose scrunches when he notices the offence in her tone, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone with a battered case. “Can I have your number?”

“What?”

The busy-bee movements from the rest of the restaurant halt. From the corner of her room, she can see the group of boys holding their breaths, her brother doing the same thing too, and her mother staring daggers at her.

“Your phone number.”

“Like,” —

She hesitates, this time fully glancing to the kitchen window only to see her dad slanting his eyes, shooting glares at either her or at the Birmingham Academy boy, she cannot tell.

— “to order food from us?”

He shakes his head. “Like, to text you. If you wanna.”

“But… do you still want the nuggets?”

He laughs and places his phone on the counter, fishing for a wallet from a patch in his windbreaker. He places ten quid next to his phone. “Sure. Let’s get that number sorted out first, though.”

She grabs his phone, and a victorious smile appears on Jude’s face. His stupid plan—”plan”, loosely translating to: just going for the shot—works, and now he has a pretty girl typing her number into his phone.

His eyes dart to the multiple worksheets and eraser dust scattered next to the rugged down cashier, trying to ignore the growing commotion from the lads. “What are you working on?”

The girl huffs a bitter chuckle, her swollen eyes glancing up at him under her bangs for a moment. “Mathematics. Are you any good at it?”

He shakes his head. “The only thing I’m good at is football, Miss.”

She raises an eyebrow, a curious zest sparkling her eyes. “You're a football player?”

“Not yet, not officially,” Jude shrugs. He points to his academy logo on the chest of his windbreaker. “Birmingham F.C.”

“Birmingham academy?”

“Yup,” he nods. “One and only.”

She chuckles again, though he recognizes the lack of bitterness this time. “Y’must be pretty good then, huh?”

“I try my best.”

The muscles in her cheeks are begging for her to smile, but she knows that her father is watching, and she cannot show humiliating emotions before him, not after a bad fight. The tears were bad enough already. She is not going to let the giddy feeling when a boy flirts with her show on her face.

Bitterness bites even harder when she feels, hears, and notices Yujae shuffling closer to her. Olivia hopes she didn’t mess up her number, and returns the phone to the counter without even filling in her name, afraid that her father would grab it and toss it across the room. Or something dramatic like that.

“Haewon.”

She sighs. No one on this Earth calls Olivia by her Korean name. No one but her father. What is it with him and ruining every single thing she has going on in her life?

“Don’t chat with the customers?” He says—in Korean, Olivia guesses to intimidate the boy—though the tone of his voice makes it seem like he is more confused than anything else, and she wants to laugh; she can’t help but share the confusion. It really is not like her to talk to a boy, it’s not like her to talk to a boy who is a stranger, and it definitely is not like her to give out her number to a boy who is a stranger.

“I wasn’t chatting,” she knows that trying to defend herself will not result in the most ideal outcome in the taut stalemate, but the pettiness that runs in Yujae’s blood also lives in hers, so she does it anyway. “He was ordering some side dishes.”

“Is that it?”

She tries not paying attention to the boy as much this time, and punches the button on the cashiering system. She takes the tenner from the counter and places it in the cash drawer.

“What?” Her father hovers next to her when she doesn’t answer. “He asked for your number, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Olivia says, keeping her tone flat.

“And you gave it to him?”

“I did,” she frowns this time, glancing up at her father. “Why?”

“Why did you give him your number?”

“Why not?”

Yujae peers deep into her, like trying to gauge her weak spot, anything that would offer him some kind of reclamation over the disrespect she sends his way. He ends the eye contact with a scoff.

“You won’t get far in life with that mouth and that attitude.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and focuses back on the cashier, letting it print out the receipts after slamming close the cash drawer.

“I’m not trying to get anywhere far in life,” she mumbles, just as he walks away. Finally, she looks back at the boy, going back to English. “Here’s your change and receipt. Thanks.”

“Thanks,” Jude grabs his change and looks at the direction of the grumpy chef—Ethan is right. He does seem evil. He looks back at the girl, “I’ll text you tonight.”

She scoffs, and it looks like she is going to cry more now, but is trying hard to act nonchalant. “I’ll talk to you, then.”

He smiles, and is somewhat not bothered that she doesn’t return it. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Unknown Number: Hello?

Olivia’s face scrunches as she lay on her bed, before breaking into a smile.

The thinning mattress under her sinks in the middle. It had always been that way, and it’s generally more comfortable for her to lay on the edge of the bed. It’s closer to where her phone charger is too. And yet, though she can name a hundred reasons why the rundown house her family and her previously lived in was better than living on top of the restaurant, this—having her own, albeit very small, bedroom and not having to share with Philip—is definitely one of the good things about moving.

Me: hello?

Olivia used to take the top bunk while Philip, sleep tosser, brought earthquakes to her vocabulary.

Unknown Number: I’m the one who asked for your number earlier on today Unknown Number: Remember me?

She giggles to the back of her hand. Now, she doesn’t have to worry about suppressing laughter. There is no brother under her to judge her.

Me: yeah Me: birmingham academy? Unknown Number: That’s right Unknown Number: My name’s Jude by the way Unknown Number: Sorry for not introducing myself earlier Me: it’s calm Me: my name’s olivia Me: it’s nice to meet you, jude!! Unknown Number: It’s nice to meet you too! Unknown Number: Olivia is a pretty name

Rolling her eyes, she huffs through her smile, turning so that she is laying on her stomach, her chin propped on a pillow.

Me: i’ve been told Me: olivia jang Me: like the restaurant Unknown Number: So your father is Mister Jang? Me: more or less Me: he’s a bit scary Me: sorry for earlier Unknown Number: I’m Jude Bellingham Unknown Number: It’s fine Unknown Number: My dad’s a sergeant so I get it Unknown Number: I didn’t land you in trouble though did I? Me: ohh sergeant Me: your dad’s Sergeant Bellingham then Me: no it’s fine Jude Bellingham: More or less Jude Bellingham: Alright, good then

She breathes, going to type a random, stupid question to keep the small talk up but stops when she notices that he is typing. Only for him to stop as well. Bleh.

Me: sorry what were you typing? Me: i stopped typing cuz i saw you were typing Me: sorry Jude Bellingham: Wait yeah I did the same Jude Bellingham: Just wanted to ask which school you go to Jude Bellingham: Small talk, yknow?

She chuckles.

Me: i go to colebourne Me: stechford Jude Bellingham: Stechford is a bit of a walk from King’s Norton isn’t it? Me: well it isn’t like i walk 10 miles a day Jude Bellingham: Still, no? Me: used to live there, but my mum and dad decided to move to be nearer to the restaurant Me: now we live ON the restaurant Me: hahaha

She wonders if she talks too much.

She doesn’t usually speak to boys this way, no—so fluently, so unabashed. While she is open to befriending anyone and everyone, she just can’t find it within herself to open up to the opposite gender. Even with girls, she feels like she wouldn’t tell the history of her residency to someone she just met.

Jude, though, feels different.

It’s how they met, there is no doubt. Just a few hours ago she was made aware of his existence, and whether she wanted to or not, she was sobbing before him, all sniffly with her runny nose. And on top of that, her father had come to scold her. Jude had seen her struggle with school work, seen her cry, and seen her speak in a language she could not call mother tongue. All on the same day. All in the same five minutes.

Even to her girl friends, she had never conveyed such vulnerability. The peeling of her emotions are reserved for her father’s disowning gaze, her mother and brother’s ignorance, and the heedless minds of the restaurant’s patrons. Jude just became the first one to take a shot at cracking her open.

Jude Bellingham: Oh wow Jude Bellingham: Doesn’t it get tiring? Jude Bellingham: The commuting

She smiles, seeing the text, tossing from one side of her bed to the other.

Me: a bit but Me: just a few years left then i’ll be off to uni Me: then i’ll be commuting to uni instead haha

Jesus. That’s like—what?—the fourth time she’s sent three text bubbles in a row. She bites her lips and tries to justify her own excitement: well, it isn’t like he is economical with his replies either, though his syntax hints at being a bit rigid, he sends her the same amount of bubbles.

Olivia tosses again, to the other side of her body.

Jude Bellingham: Yeah? Jude Bellingham: How old are you? Me: i’m 15!! Me: n you?? Jude Bellingham: 14

A burst of light giggles escaping her lips.

Me: woooooow you’re like a little kid Jude Bellingham: Hahaha shut up

She bites her lips.

Me: btw Me: you got an insta jude? Jude Bellingham: I do!!

Olivia’s body awakens, shifting all its weight to her knees before flopping into a curl in the middle of her bed. Her fingers hover above her keyboards. Shit. she initiated, so she must be the one that asks first.

Me: wanna follow each other?

Groaning, she shuts her phone and flicks it two feet away from her, dramatically slapping both her palms—damp due to anxiety—against her face. Her phone dings as soon as it lands on the thinning bedcover.

Jude Bellingham: Sure!!!

Olivia plants her face into her pillow, lets out a muffled kind-of-bellow, before telling herself to get her act together.

Me: what's yours? Jude Bellingham: I’ve got a private one Jude Bellingham: It's jujudedebell

“jujudedebell,” she murmurs to herself, biting the inside of her cheeks.

Me: jujudedebell Me: 😂😂😂 Me: that's such a cute username Jude Bellingham: Hahaha Jude Bellingham: I gotta keep it lowkey, you know?

Olivia rolls her eyes and switches over to the Instagram app, typing the username into the search bar and requesting to follow the first account she sees.

Me: i requested to follow you!! Jude Bellingham: Alright!! Jude Bellingham: You're… viajangoli? 😂

Jude Bellingham: That's worse than mine Me: shut up!! Me: you should help me think of a better handle Jude Bellingham: I’ll let you know when something crosses my mind Jude Bellingham: Oh, miss Jang Jude Bellingham: You're popular huh?? Me: nooooo Me: i just meet a lot of people through internships and volunteering Me: i bet you'll be real popular soon too jude

Isn’t that how football careers usually go?

She bet he’s real popular even right now—proper, actual popular. He said that he’s got a private Instagram; she’s not even going to look up his public one.

Jude Bellingham: Yeah? Jude Bellingham: Also Jude Bellingham: Your most recent post Jude Bellingham: That’s in London ain’t it? Me: yes yes yes!! Me: went there last month for a school trip Me: best day of my life Me: been there? Jude Bellingham: Yeah with my family Jude Bellingham: Best day huh? Me: yeah Me: i wanna work there Jude Bellingham: Ohh Jude Bellingham: Going to London for school too? Me: my dad wont let me leave birmi for uni Me: but i want to work there Me: wbu Me: u got any dream job? Jude Bellingham: Well I’m a fan of this one football player Jude Bellingham: Zinedine Zidane Jude Bellingham: He’s my role model Jude Bellingham: He’s working for Real Madrid now Jude Bellingham: So maybe Real Madrid Jude Bellingham: Hahahaha

She raises an eyebrow at the football club.

Me: what’s so funny? Jude Bellingham: I don’t know Jude Bellingham: Real Madrid just seems so big Me: right now Me: we don’t know jude bellingham 10 years from now yeah? Jude Bellingham: You think it’s gonna take me 10 years to get into Real Madrid? Me: well if you believe in yourself Me: maybe five Me: or even three Me: or tomorrow Jude Bellingham: Tomorrow? 😂 Jude Bellingham: Lmao Me: idk Me: i don’t much about football but real madrid’s my brother favourite team Jude Bellingham: They are? Me: he’s crazy about marcelo or i don’t know Me: sorry lol Jude Bellingham: You’re good Jude Bellingham: How old is your brother? Me: he was born in 2005 Me: so like 12 Jude Bellingham: Oh, my brother’s the same age Me: oh you got a brother too? Jude Bellingham: Yeah, his name’s Jobe! Me: oh cute Me: jude and jobe Me: mine’s olivia and lip Me: from philip Jude Bellingham: Liv and Lip? Me: nobody really calls me liv Jude Bellingham: Well Jude Bellingham: I can be the first

Olivia shuts her phone. She spreads her arms wide on the bed, now laying in the middle, her back aching slightly as she stares up at the ceiling. Her mouth parts, letting the air circulate freely in and out her throat. After a while of trying to digest the odd feeling in her chest, letting it run down to her stomach where it hatches into butterflies, she raises her shaky hands to hold her phone over her face.

Me: mhmm Me: yeah sure you can

[rebeltigera]

I find v! Wukong and p! Macaque ship kinda funny because like, p! Mac is like two people in one body type situation right ( I might be wrong since I have goldfish brain) that means Mac affection for Wukong is so strong that LBD's hatred for Wukong is just gone

In a VERY short way to put it -

P!Mac is a fusion of both of em - But mainly in control is Mac. Well, whatever was left of him that is . P!Mac if fusion of whatever was left of them both after 1000 years of being sealed together by Wukong and the Pilgrims. THere are no 2 minds in one head, there is not 2 concious beings in this body, there's only one.

(LBD possessed Mac, they got stuck for a 1000 yr , they both were on the verge of dying , well it didn't work out , they got fused, bam you have P!Mac.)

P!Mac absolutely HATES his Wukong. His ex-mate, his King , his doom. That's not only LBD . SO , why not do a cleanup of the world and start from that simian? That's what happens in P!Mac's story in normal circumstances In Normal circumstances Mac DIE at the end of the story That is his destiny , that is my will, that is will of the universe. That's his canon. And P!Mac knows about it. He is accepting that fate.

...

And then V!Wukong appears .

and that's the only reason why P!Mac is alive n well.

(V!Wuk timelines are freaking great sksksks)

And it's not like P!Mac love V!Wuk (he wouldn't name it that way) . He is too mad. He find him useful- very risky, desireable , and the best way to keep V!Wukong around is not by doing him harm but to give him waht he want.

This man needed to die a couple of times just to prove he'd be USEFUL to P!Mac cuz the first time they met up P!mac almost died from his hand and he bolted the shit out of the place, away from him .

That is a guilty pleasure ship , don't judge

[lady--vixen]

HI REN

Hi there Ren, it's been a little while, did you miss me? You thought you'd buried me, didn't you? Risky 'Cause I always come back, deep down, you know that Deep down, you know I'm always in the periphery

Ren, aren't you pleased to see me? It's been weeks since we spoke bro, I know you need me You're the sheep, I'm the shepherd, not your place to lead me Not your place to be biting off the hand that feeds me

Hi Ren, I've been taking some time to be distant I've been taking some time to be still I've been taking some time to be by myself Since my therapist told me I'm ill

And I've been making some progress lately And I've learnt some new coping skills So I haven't really needed you much, man I think we need to just step back and chill

Ren, you sound more insane than I do You think that those doctors are really there to guide you? You've been through this a million times Your civilian mind is so perfect at always being lied to

Okay, take another pill boy Drown yourself in the sound of white noise Follow this ten-step program, rejoice All your problems will be gone! Fuckin' dumb boy

Nah, mate, this time it's different, man, trust me I feel like things might be falling in place And my music's been kinda doing bits too Like I actually might do something great

And when I'm gone, maybe I'll be remembered For doing something special with myself That's why I don't think that we should talk, man 'Cause when you're with me, it never seems to help

You think that you can amputate me? I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we We are one, split in two that makes one, so you see You got to kill you if you wanna kill me

I'm not left over dinner, I'm not scraps on the side Oh, your music is thriving? Delusional guy Where's your top ten hit? Where's your interview with Oprah? Where are your Grammies, Ren? Nowhere!

Yeah, but, my music's not commercial like that I never chased numbers, statistics or stats I never write hooks for the radio, they never even play me So why would I concern myself with that? But my music is really connecting And the people who find it, respect it And for me, that's enough 'cause this life's been tough So it gives me a purpose I can rest in

Man, you sound so pretentious Ren, your music is so self-centred No one wants to hear another song about How much you hate yourself, trust me You should be so lucky, having me inside you to guide you Remind you to manage expectations Provide you perspective, that thing you neglected, I get it You wanna be a big deal, next Jimi Hendrix? Forget it

Man, it's not like that Man it's just like that, I'm inside you, you twat No, it's not man, you're wrong, when I write, I belong Let me break the fourth wall by acknowledging this song

Ren sits down, has a stroke of genius He wants to write a song that was not done previous A battle with his subconscious, Eminem did it Played on guitar, Plan B did it

Man, you're not original, you criminal, rip-off artist The pinnacle of your success is stealing other people's material Ren, mate, we've heard it all before Uh, "she sells seashells on the sea shore"

Fuck you, I don't need you, I don't need to hear this 'Cause I'm fine by myself, I'ma genius And I will be great, and I will make waves And I'll shake up the whole world beneath us

That's right, speak your truth, your fuckin' God complex leaks out of you It's refreshing to actually hear you say it instead of downplay it "Ugh, music Is all about the creative process and if people can find Something to relate to within that, then that's just a bonus"

Fuck you, I'ma fuckin' kill you, Ren Well fuckin' kill me then, let's fuckin' have you Ren I'm a do it, watch me prove it, who are you to doubt my music? 'Cause I call the shots. I choose if you die Yeah, I call the shots, and so I who choose who survives I'll tie you up in knots when I'll lock you inside

News flash I was created at the dawn of creation I am temptation, I am the snake in Eden I am the reason for treason, beheading all Kings I am sin with no rhyme or reason Sun of the morning, Lucifer, antichrist Father of lies, Mestophilies Truth in a blender, deceitful pretender The banished avenger, the righteous surrender

When standing in-front of my solar eclipse My name it is stitched to your lips, so, you see I won't bow to the will of a mortal, feeble and normal You wanna kill me? I'm enteral, immortal I live in every decision that catalysed chaos That causes division I live inside death, the beginning of ends I am you, you are me, I am you, Ren

Hi Ren, I've been taking some time to be distant I've been taking some time to be still I've been taking some time to be by myself And I've spent half my life ill

But just as sure as the tide starts turning Just as sure as the night has dawn Just as sure as rainfall soon runs dry When you stand in an eye of the storm

I was made to be tested and twisted I was made to be broken and beat I was made by His hand, it's all part of His plan That I stand on my own two feet And you know me, my will is eternal And you know me, you've met me before Face-to-face with a beast, I will rise from the east And I'll settle on the ocean floor

And I go by many names also Some people know me as "hope" Some people know me as the voice that you hear When you loosen the noose on the rope And you know how I know that I'll prosper? 'Cause I stand here beside you today I have stood in the flames that cremated my brain And I didn't once flinch or shake

So cower at the man I've become, when I sing from the top of my lungs That I won't retire, I'll stand in your fire, inspire the weak to be strong And when I am gone, I will rise in the music that I left behind Ferocious, persistent, immortal like you, we're a coin with two different sides

When I was 17 years old, I shouted out into an empty room Into a blank canvas, that I would defeat the forces of evil And for the next ten years of my life, I suffered the consequences With autoimmunity, illness, and psychosis

As I got older, I realised that there were no real winners And there were no real losers in physiological warfare But there were victims and there were students It wasn't David versus Goliath, it was a pendulum Eternally swayin' from the dark to the light And the more intensely that the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast

It was never really a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance And like a dance, the more rigid I became, the harder it got The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more I struggled So I got older and I learned to relax And I learned to soften and that dance got easierIt is this eternal dance that separates human beings From angels, from demons, from gods And I must not forget, we must not forget That we are human beings

----------------

Questo a dimostrare che quando qualcuno ha davvero qualcosa da dire, ti colpisce in faccia pure se appartiene a un mondo che non è il tuo e magari nemmeno capisci. L'arte è quelle cosa che arriva improvvisa come un calcio nel culo pure se non sai darle un nome. Provate a sentire.

[nthewriter]

(That man is the most BEAUTIFUL out of the 141 omg I love him so freaking much!! Look at him!!! People needs to write more about him and not just in poly stuff)

TW: misogyny

Okay, Gaz thought you were a bitch.

Always getting in fights with him, arguing going on borderline flirting.

But unlike most men in this kind of field, Gaz also recognised your capacities. You could handle yourself pretty well everywhere on the battlefield, after all, you were a lieutenant. He did believe you were the female counterparts of Ghost. And he stopped counting the moments you both saved each other asses on missions and deployment. Yes, you two were often in disagreement but that didn't stop the both of you to be able to work well together.

So having a colonel walking by the two of you as you were headed to the training ground, discussing about the next OP (arguing could be the right word) said how lucky the 141 were to have a barracks bunny, he lost it.

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to take a look at the man, sending off a harsh glare. Tilting his head, he called up to the colonel.

"Excuse me mate, what the fuck did you say?"

Gaz knew it was risky, because that man up in the hierarchy. Captain Price would surely have his head for his, for confronting the prick about the disgusting words. The colonel smirked, liking the defiance and anger on Gaz's face.

"I said how you bunch were lucky to have a pretty little thing to warm your beds at night." The man snorted with a dirty smile and glint in his eyes.

(Y/N) wasn't reacting. She stood there, in a calm way. Gaz was boiling with anger, he didn't understand why she wasn't protesting or saying anything. She then sighed and looked at Gaz, shaking her head.

"Come on, Garrick, it's not worth it." She finally spoke up. After all, she already had been through that bullshit when she enlisted.

"No that's not okay! You need to report this."

"Kyle please- don't make a scene-" The lieutenant almost begged, trying to grip his arm.

"Yeah boy, shut up and mount the bitch up." The man snickered before Kyle marched up and punched him straight in the face, broking his nose and some teeth out.

That's how he ended in Price's office, occupied by Laswell too. He didn’t feel sorry about knocking up colonel Whatwashisname. He sat in the chair, arms crossed over his chest as Laswell and Price started to ramble about how differently he should have acted.

Gaz didn't care. He did the right thing. Was it moral? No.

"... so we have decided, you will have to clean the latrines for a few weeks and keep a low profile. Colonel Richardson will be stationed elsewhere." Kate Laswell decided, which made Gaz perked up.

"You should have come to us first, Gaz. We're a team. We would have figured something out." Captain Price scolded like a father, staring down at the younger man. "Dismissed."

When Kyle exited the office, he found (Y/N) waiting for him, leaning across the wall. She had a guilty look on her face, and Gaz wanted to reassure her, to tell her she wasn't in trouble. They both started to walk side by side.

"It was very stupid." She said with a matter of fact voice.

"I know."

"They could have discharged you, you know? That is the stupidest thing you have ever done Garrick. That comes second when you slipped off the helicopter." (Y/N) continued as they approached the door leading to the outside ground.

"I know." He repeated.

"But it was... brave." She added with a soft tone. Her eyes found his. "Thank you."

"I don't think he will ever try to do this kind of things again. I don’t understand why you wanted me to walk away from this." Gaz wondered out loud.

"I always have been treated like that. At first I tried to fight back. But it was getting harder and harder to do so. Then I became lieutenant. They mostly spoke behind my back. I just learnt to let go." (Y/N) replied back, to which Gaz nodded in understanding.

"If- if anyone starts to give you trouble, you can come to me. I mean- it's not like you can't handle yourself." Gaz stammered out, a stupid warmth spreading on his cheeks.

She laughed at his suggestion and shook her head with a smile on her lips. Gaz's heart skipped a beat. With the sun shining upon her, she looked ethereal.

"I am not some damsel in distress Garrick. Save the hero act for the ladies at the bar." (Y/N) patted him on the shoulder, before leaving. "I expect the toilets to be clean."

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 9

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: none

Reader's vibe in general is very much "Mess With Me" - BXRRELL if you want a song (though maybe it will apply more to the next chapter). Should I make a list of songs I that inspire me for this?

Job Description

Pushing the unpleasant memories back into the depths from which they came, your priority turned to Killer. Finally, you had a proper med bay, or close enough. The cabinets and drawers held basic supplies. You found clean linens, much to your shock, and spent some time putting them on the stretchers so that they were ready when the time came. You made a space in one of the locking cabinets for your things. This would be your space for the duration of your stay. Curiously, much of the tools and meds appeared like they hadn't been used in a while, which either meant they hadn't been in a fight in that time or they were lacking someone who knew how to use them. You were betting the latter, bringing a frown to your face.

You went to the first mate's side, really looking at him while you had the chance. His face was angular and dotted with small, faint freckles. The skin of his forehead was slightly paler than the rest of his face since his bangs protected it from the sun. His lips had a deep cupid's bow and were somewhat thin. You lifted his eyelids to reveal bright blue, stunning eyes before letting them fall shut again, long, blond eyelashes resting on the tops of his cheeks. A small smirk settled on your face, feeling like you had forbidden knowledge in the form of Killer's handsome visage. It was very tempting to give him a little peck. He would never know. Maybe he needed one to wake up, a real life princess. He does owe me. Slowly you leaned down and hovered above his face. He smelled like salt and sweat, in a good way. The heat from his skin radiated to your cheeks, that or you were blushing. It had been so long since you kissed someone, not like with Kid, but a tender, loving kiss. It would be easy to pretend in this moment. A rumbling cough startled you. A burning feeling flooded your face as you straightened up and looked at Killer. Still asleep. Guilt washed over you. What is wrong with me? Sighing, you let your professional side take over. Putting yourself in front of Killer's injured thigh, you checked over your shoulder to make sure no one had come in. You removed the crude stitches that you initially put in. Lightly putting your fingertips to the ragged wound, a soft, warm, yellow light emanated from them. Tanned skin started to knit itself together slowly, until Killer's thigh was smooth. There was no evidence that an injury had been there aside from the still-damaged jeans that he wore. Moving to Killer's head, you did the same. Resting your hands on Killer's chest, first you tried not to think about how firm and warm his pecs felt, then you willed your power to heal his lungs. The soft glow from your hands seemed to radiate into him for a while before puttering out. It was hard to know if it had worked since you couldn't see into him. For it to work, you had to really want it. This situation in general made you uneasy, so healing a person with a high rank could be risky, but it could also be leverage. The conflict within you could be enough to buff your reparative power. The bigger the ask, the more strongly you had to feel about it. Your devil fruit was as versatile as your will, though you hadn't fully explored its potential. Who would have thought something good would have come from landing on that island?

A knock at the door made you jump. "Uh... yeah?"

Heat came in. He had a softer voice than most of the crew that you had heard. "How is he?"

"He's doing better. I don't know when he'll wake up though," you said, predicting Heat's next question. 

Heat made an affirmative grunt. "You didn't get breakfast. Are you hungry?" 

You blinked and your stomach growled. "I guess I was too focused on finding the least whore-like clothes to wear to be hungry." 

The blue-haired man chuckled. "Come with me." He waved you out the door and led you to the mess hall. It was just big enough to fit the crew, with long picnic-style tables. Then he took you through saloon doors to the kitchen in the back and grabbed a plate of leftovers. "So you're our doctor now." He said as more of a statement than a question while you shoveled food into your mouth.

Muffled through your food, "No, m'jus helfing the docker."

"We... don't have one." Heat looked away as if he realized maybe he shouldn't have told you that. 

You choked on your food a little, but you did sort of have a feeling that was the case. "Ur captain's a basfard," you accused, pointing your fork at him. 

"Better watch it. He's your captain, too." Heat chided. 

"Temporarily." You held Heat's gaze before finishing off the last bites and chugging a glass of water. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you got up and put your dishes in the sink. "Can I ask you a favor?" Heat raised his brow and you continued, "Would you take me to Killer's room? I want to get fresh clothes. His are crusty and ripped." 

Heat thought about it for a while and motioned for you to follow. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt." 

On the way to Killer's room, most people quickly ignored you when they noticed Heat. "Did you really come to ask if I got breakfast?" As it turned out, Killer's room was right next to Kid's. That seemed appropriate. 

Heat let you in and watched you from the doorframe with his arms crossed. "No," He paused to consider his next words, "the captain wanted me to make sure you weren't getting into trouble." 

You appreciated his honesty and it made you laugh. "If he was worried, he shouldn't have left me in a room with a thousand things I know how to kill someone with and his first-mate." Heat shifted in the doorway as you made your way to a small dresser. "That was a joke." It wasn't, but you didn't need Heat to report that back to Kid. Looking through his clothes was easy. One drawer had all jeans and one drawer had all the same shirt. The man likes routine. You grabbed one of each when a small corner of black fabric peeked out from under some shirts. Tugging it free, it was a black button down with big white polka dots. It looked much smaller than the other shirts. You held it up to Heat, "What's this?"

"Looks like Killer's old shirt." 

"Does that mean he doesn't wear it?"

"I think it's too small."

"So he won't mind if I take it." Anything to get out of these clothes. Heat was about to say something and you cut him off, "I'm taking it." Heat shrugged. He wasn't going to argue. Killer could do that when he woke up, if he wanted. You looked Heat over and pointed to his top. "Do you have one of those you don't wear anymore?" You had an idea. 

It turned out that he did. You took your new outfit back to the infirmary to drop it off and then headed down to the brig, only getting lost once, to see what the alleged "mess" was. The crew kept an eye on you, but didn't bother you. The brig was empty of people and was located in the back of the storage area which had rows of crates and barrels. It was very dark, but you could make out the shape that was Mini and her glaring eyes. "I know. I know. I'm sorry you had to be down here." The "mess" was what appeared to be a destroyed crate with several scraps of orange peel around it that had been left in her cell. That's on them. You easily found the lock to the door. Placing your hand over it, the soft, yellow glow came forth from your palm again. There was a soft click as the gate swung open. You went in and gave Mini a hug. Her neck was too big for your arms to encircle. Rough reddish hair poked at your skin as you breathed in her scent. She smelled like disturbed earth, tree sap, and freshly torn leaves. It was comforting to have something familiar. You sighed and released her to start piling up the wood fragments of the crate. Wait. You looked around. No one was there. You touched the pile and focused on the image of a whole crate. Why should you pick up all the pieces when you could put it back together with a touch? Because it makes me tired as fuck. You used your power a lot more today than you had before. One perk of being here seemed like more opportunity to practice, as long as no one saw. There was really no reason to keep it a secret, but you may as well while you were at it. It took a few minutes of focus and the pieces started to fit back together. Daffodil colored light bathed Mini while she finished off the orange peels. Guess I'll have to deal with a scurvy-riddled crew now, you thought as the rest of the crate came together. A loud huff exited you as you let your breath out. You were focusing so hard you didn't realize you were holding it. Dusting your hands off, you grinned. It was a little silly to be proud of putting a crate back together. You had to start somewhere though. 

Now, about sneaking a giant boar into the infirmary. It was plenty big for her to be in there with you. You didn't see a problem with it. And anyone who did could try their best to move her. Knowing how stubborn she was, you laughed to yourself. She thought the same of you, you were sure. Was it better to sneak slowly through the halls or to barrel through and hope for the best? Well one of them sounded way more fun and someone was gonna see either way. No. No. I have to be low profile. With your luck, you would probably run straight into Eustass Kid himself. 

Miraculously, most everyone was in the mess for lunch. Out of the corner of someone's eye, Mini probably looked like Kid. Her fur was similar in color to his coat and her size was certainly comparable. She did have a hard time squeezing through the infirmary doorway, though made it without breaking the frame. Killer still wasn't awake. You looked around the infirmary some more. There was a few fold-down bunks attached to the wall, extra space in case the stretchers were all taken. You unfolded the top one, making it up so you could use it for yourself. That way, Minerva could curl up below you.

There was also a small bathroom with a shower, a far cry from Kid's luxurious space. It was clean and had some personal hygiene products within. You grabbed some along with a basin and filled it with hot water. For the second time since knowing the man, you stripped Killer. Oh how you wished it was under different circumstances. Grabbing a washcloth you got it wet and put some soap on it to clean Killer up. After all, no one wanted to wake up dirty and he still had some sand clinging to his tan skin. It took a bit of time to get him as clean as he was going to get without a real shower or bath. When you were done, you got a new basin of water. You dipped Killer's hair into it and placed it right below his hair to catch the drips. Taking shampoo, you worked it into his scalp and down the lengths of his hair, untangling as you went. You squeezed as much out as you could before rinsing the rest of the soap out. Then you repeated the process with conditioner and towel dried his blond locks. It was not easy to wrestle clothes back on to him and by the time you were done, his hair was mostly dry. Selfishly, you really wanted to wash it so that you could touch it some more. It was so pretty and soft. You spent an embarrassing amount of time braiding it until it was perfect, definitely just to keep it from tangling again and not for your own entertainment. You didn't have anything else to do. Or maybe you did, but until Kid expressly told you to do something, you weren't going to take it upon yourself to do chores.

A tall shadow appeared outside the door, knocking with purpose. 

"If Kid sent you to check on me, I'm fucking busy. Tell him to- tell him Killer is fine and I'm straightening up in here." You were going to say "tell him to fuck off" but that would mean a raging bull stomping into your space within minutes. 

The shadow made some kind of mumble and left. 

The next day went by, you kept to yourself, eating after everyone else had and retreating to the med bay. Heat had come by and you asked him for another favor. Later that day, you re-painted Killer's nails. Essentially you were having a slumber party with him and he was the only one sleeping, getting his hair braided, and his nails painted, though you did paint yours later, too, out of boredom. There were a few medical texts you occupied yourself with reading since you had never been formally trained, just some field experience. You fell asleep with one of them in your hands, leaned back against Mini, who you had been smuggling leftovers to throughout the day. 

Next

[lyramundana]

Hello, I'm back again hope you're doing great

So I've been thinking about yandere! Alpha minsung x sub! Omega! fem! Reader we'll if you're comfortable with abo of course.

Well and to spice it up what if some stupid alpha dared to try to mark her.

If ur not comfortable with this please ignore it and love u 😘

----🦋anon----

Hello there! I'm happy to see you here again. And don't worry, there's not much content that can make me feel uncomfortable, so feel free to share your most twisted, unhinged thoughts here. If I see an ask I don't feel like doing it, I'll still make sure to reply.

Omegaverse x Minsung throuple?? FUCK YES. This sounds so freaking delicious. Here you go~

ALPHA! MINSUNG X OMEGA! FEM! READER

WARNING❗ Hints of non-con at the end. Proceed accordingly if this topic is sensitive for you.

It's common knowledge that two alphas don't usually mate with each other. Not only because of the biological traits that prevents them from doing so, but also because they tend to be too territorial and dominant for a relationship to work. However, as rare as it is, there are cases of alphas falling for one another and somehow building a functional committed relationship. Han Jisung and Lee Minho were one of these few cases. Their instincts showed on their first meeting, a pair of alphas trying to one up the other constantly and even getting physical more often than not. However, the more they fought and tried to dominate the other, the more they felt it was less about pride and more about just having contact with the other. Because there's another well-known fact about alphas, and it's that they tend to have the thickest, most intense sexual tension ever. It was specially obvious with these two, to the point they made everyone around them uncomfortable with their displays. Of course, didn't surprise anyone that they ended giving in their urges and fucking like animals during a common friend's party. Eventually, they became a power, intimidating couple no one dares to mess with.

Jisung wasn't the typical alpha, fitting more in the traits of an omega sometimes and letting Minho pamper him like one, but those close to him knew the boy owned up to his rank by every word. Minho was usually the one in charge, but it didn't stop them from still fighting for the dominance from time to time. They were also terribly possessive over each other. An alpha is already territorial by nature, so one can guess the chaos two of them can bring. Minho had beat people almost to death for getting too close to his Sungie. Jisung knows how to use his pheromones to force people to submit to him and then punish them like he wants for daring to touch his mate.

But as happy as they were together, they couldn't stop feeling something was missing. Like the last piece for a puzzle to fit. It frustrated them to no end, not being able to be completely content with what they had. They tried all they knew to find out what it was, to no end.

Until they came across the sweetest, most alluring and mouth-watering scent ever since meeting each other. Her. An Omega. Their omega.

Then it all makes sense finally. That's the missing piece. She was what they've been looking for all this time. What their hearts had been crying out for. When she's with them, they feel complete and at ease, and they share a silent agreement.

They can't let her go. She belongs to them.

Their first instinct is to simply take her as she is, their wolves growling in their heads to claim her already and tie her to their sides, but their logical sides tell them to wait. They need to be cool-headed about this. After all, one risky move and they could scare her off, and they don't want to force to come (but they don't mind to if it comes to it). No, instead, they play the long game, wooing her carefully and slowly getting her trust. She's so perfect for them, so precious. They have the perfect plan to claim her forever.

When she hits her heat, it's completely unexpected and particularly strong. She had been taking her medication for it and, according to her phone calendary, it shouldn't have arrived until some weeks later so she doesn't understand what happened (she couldn't know her new "friends" replaced her pills and changed the calendary on purpose). She's now sweating in her bed, curling in ball in her underwear because she feels fire underneath her skin, her insides ache and throb in feral need, and the world around her seems blurry, confusing. There's only one thing that can calm her down, and what a coincidence, her alpha friends just passed by to "visit her" and sensed the smell, the delicious calling of an omega in heat. Their omega, who needs them to help, to relieve her from this pain. The omega tries to fight it at first, knowing she's not on her right mind, but her instincts betray her and surrender to the alphas looming over her like predators about to devour their prey. And that's probably the best way to describe them.

Minho's plan was to wait out until she begged for them, but Jisung was losing his mind with the smell that reeked the entire place. The younger just wanted to jump on her already and claim what was theirs, and Minho was struggling to remain in control of himself too. In the end, the frustration for having waited so long and the omega's arousal was messing with their senses, and so they gave in what they've been craving since they met her.

It was messy, rough and animalistic. Their feral instincts took over them and they made sure each trace of her skin was covered in their scent. They kissed, gropped, bruised, marked every piece of her body they pleased. By the end of it, she was shaking in their hold, overstimulated, cum running through her skin. The only thing that prevented them from cumming inside was that they wanted her to ask for it. They wanted her to beg for their seed.

When her heat passes and she realizes what went on, she feels a mix of emotions. She's certainly scared for her future now, for what it means for her now she's been mated by not one, but two alphas. She's flustered because she enjoyed it a lot and loved the way they brought her to release. She's angry at them for going along with it despite knowing she wasn't in the best state of mind, but they explain that they simply wanted to help, since they know an omega's heat can be painful without a partner. Also, they were affected by the heat too and weren't fully conscious of their actions. Really, they didn't have ill-intentions. How could they, when they clearly care so much about her and have been her loyal friends for a long time? The omega ends up giving in their sweet words and gestures, swayed by their tactics, and not seeing the way their grins seemed more twisted.

Because now they've mated her, there's only one step left. She's already his, their propietry. They just need to find the right time.

Right after that event, their relationship takes a shift. She doesn't feel entirely comfortable with them after what happened, no matter how much pleasure they brought her, but can't bring herself to cut ties with them. They notice her distance and slightly panic. Jisung proposes to take her already before she strays away at once, but Minho calms him down and says she's uncapable of leaving them now. She's on step in their claws, and if they play their cards right, she'll come to them willingly. In the meantime, they force themselves to endure the "only friends" status and swallow the poison that threatens to choke them in their tongue when she's being close to others.

It's not that surprising seeing other alphas infatuated by her. They understand it, she's a gorgeous being and the world should be put to her feet, but it doesn't ease the boiling rage they feel when they see some of these unworthy assholes staring at her too much or trying their luck with her. They've beated and almost killed some of them for this. Alpha are terribly territorial and they can't stand the slighest glint of competence..

Since she doesn't have any claim marks, she's considered single and so other alphas flirt with her openly. She finds a liking to one of them, a friendly alpha that treats her with a softness she's not really familiarized with. She walks around with his smell on her, and MinSung see red. But the breaking point comes when they find out the guy almost marked her. He tried to claim her as his own, to steal her away. And that's when the boys say "fuck the waiting".

Omega is confused at why her love interest stopped talking to her, and dissapeared from the face of earth all of sudden, but she doesn't have time to question further before a pair of furious alpha storm in her house. The powerful, heavy grip of their pheromones makes her limbs useless against her will and her body becomes jelly under their vicious hold. They're frustrated for the lack of so desired intimacy, veins hyped with adrenaline for the recent blood in their hands, and pissed off by her bratty behaviour. How dare she let another alpha touch her like that? How the fuck could she allow herself to be claimed by another? Doesn't she understand her body belongs to them? She's their mate, her place is by their side, carrying their pups and pleasing them. Didn't they make that clear when they fucked her back then?

Omega realizes too late that her worst suspicions were true: That they took advantage of her heat and they were fully conscious of what they were doing. But it's too late.

They scent her the same way they did during their first time, and her head already feels fuzzy with the familiar smells that bring back those hot memories. Her body is slowly falling under the spell of their strong pheromones combined, and she grows more compliant the more she remains in their arms. Her clothes are tore off her body, leaving her completely exposed for theri greedy hands. There's already a patch of wetness running through her inner thighs, and she tries to supress a moan when she feels a warm tongue lick down those traces. The remnants of her logical side try to fight it off, but they're stronger and she's been frustrated too. When one of them slips his dick inside wet cunt in one go, she loses herself. Mind blank, her body only following their wishes.

When it's over, she comes back to her senses with their mixed cums inside her...and two claiming bites in her shoulder and neck, chaining to them forever.

Now she's truly under their mercy and no amount of fighting can break off the power of these bites. She's finally theirs to have, to worship, to adore, to breed.