#and also now if I do it again w better fabric (I could literally only find cotton in this town for some reason) I'll know what to improve

[fluentisonus]

waistcoat :^)

[baekhyunsbestie]

──★ easy peasy ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: a lil prequel to all mine :') baekhyun n cupcake are back to show y'all how it all started hehe

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 4.6k words 😭 this was supposed to b waaayyyy shorter omg whatevz. baekhyun x f!reader. scenes with weed + alcohol, mutual pining, friends to fwb, pet names, lots of swearing. SMUT!!! literally porn w plot, masturbation (both m + f), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, praise, p in v. baekhyun is pretty obsessive in this. ALSO. i do not, i repeat, i do not recommend reading this with 'woo' on repeat 😭😵‍💫😮‍💨💦‼️‼️‼️‼️

it was just another ordinary gathering with friends when it all began. this time, the casual hangout took place in baekhyun’s cozy apartment, where the atmosphere was warm and inviting. laughter echoed off the walls, mingling with the cheerful clinking of glasses, while the sweet, heady scent of alcohol hung in the air as the evening stretched on.

nights like these felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven where you could truly be yourself and let the weight of the day melt away. surrounded by the people you loved, who loved you just as deeply in return. every inside joke shared, every story recounted, and every laugh exchanged spun a kind of magic into the night, reminding you just how deeply you cherished the core memories you were creating together.

as the party winds down and only you and baekhyun remain, you slip out onto the patio for your familiar ritual—a quick smoke session that signals the end of the night. it’s a moment where you both unwind, getting high while sharing a candid debrief about the evening's antics. just typical bestie behavior, sharing thoughts and laughter as the stars twinkle above you.

the sharp november air bites against your skin, and you shiver, muttering a curse under your breath. baekhyun chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement—until his gaze drifts downward to your chest. his laughter fades as he takes in the way your shirt clings to you in the cold, the night revealing your hardened nipples.

a quiet tension hangs between you as you feel his gaze lingering, tracing the outline of your chest and making your pulse quicken. with a smooth motion, he slips his jacket over your shoulders, wrapping you in its warmth and his subtle, rough scent. it’s a gentle gesture, his fingers brushing against your arms, as if he’s protecting not just your warmth but also his own restraint, which is damn near close to breaking.

the sight of you wrapped up in his jacket sets off a sense of possessiveness in him. he becomes oblivious to the biting chill of the night air; his focus is solely on you, swallowed whole by the oversized fabric, the sleeves hanging far past your fingertips, a reminder of how small you look next to him.

for what feels like the first time—or maybe the third or fifth, though he’s lost count—his mind wanders, slipping into a vivid fantasy. he pictures you beneath him, pinned to his mattress, your legs drawn tight against your chest in a rough, mating press. the weight of his hold keeps you breathless, your sweet voice pleading, again and again, for him to give you more, more, more.

he can picture it so clearly, as if it's already unfolding beneath him: your body trembling, not from the sharp bite of the autumn night air prickling your skin like it is now, but from the relentless waves of pleasure he’ll coax out of you—with his cock, his fingers, his mouth. hell, with anything he can use to unravel you.

the smoke curls lazily between you as you both finish up your shared joint. he flicks the remnants into the ashtray, a sense of urgency igniting in his eyes. “we, uh... we should head in,” he mutters, his voice rough and low. “got a busy morning tomorrow... better get to bed.” 

and before you fully register it, he’s guiding you inside, his hand resting gently at the small of your back as he leads you through the sliding door of his patio and into the warmth of his living room. 

he tries to reason with himself, insisting it’s only natural for his mind to drift this way. you’re his best friend, after all, and the two of you are practically inseparable. surely, this infatuation will fade soon enough. maybe all he needs is a quick release to clear his head. 

yeah, that’s it—rubbing one out would certainly do the trick.

he walks you down to your car, tugging the zipper of his oversized jacket up to your chin, his voice soft as he murmurs, “don’t want ya freezing on the way from here to your place.” you glance down, and a flicker of surprise flashes across your face as you realize this is the first time you’ve ever worn anything of his, despite years of friendship. the weight of that thought lingers for just a moment before you let it drift away, replaced by the warmth blooming in your chest. with a bright smile, you look up at him, your heart swelling as you thank him sweetly for being so thoughtful. 

you try to ignore the faint blush rises on his cheeks as he glances down, trying to conceal his smile. his hands are buried in the pockets of his sweats, and he fidgets nervously, kicking at the loose gravel beneath his feet. “what are best friends for?” he says, his voice more tender than usual.

when it’s finally time to say goodbye, he wraps his arms around you in a hug, heart pounding as he silently prays you won’t feel the very obvious, painfully hard strain against his sweats. when you slip into the driver’s seat, your eyes lock onto his and you flash him one last, innocent smile that sends butterflies coursing through his stomach. you close the door and pull off, leaving him standing there questioning if you noticed.

later on under the burning heat of the shower, he closes his eyes tight, trying to drown out his intoxicating thoughts of you. his hand moves rhythmically, driven by primal need, as he desperately searches for distractions—flickers of past flings, the latest porn he’s watched, anything to steer his mind away from you. 

he feels like he’s finally almost there, his hand moving with frantic urgency, desperate to break free from the overwhelming tension coiling within him. but just as pleasure hovers on the edge of white-hot ecstasy, his mind betrays him, and all he can see is you—wrapped in nothing but his jacket, your body beautifully wrecked beneath him, pleading him for more.

as he reaches his climax, your name falls through his lips in a breathless whisper. he swears he can feel your fingers gripping his thighs, your warm breath mingling with the steam in the shower. the thought of your eyes locked onto his, your soft, wet tongue teasingly tracing the pronounced vein along the underside of his shaft sends him spiraling over the edge, intensifying his orgasm. in that moment, everything feels achingly real, as if you’re right there with him.

as he comes down from the haze, his gaze is drawn to the remnants of his cum splattered against the shower wall, glistening droplets sliding down the drain. typically, the post-nut clarity pulls him back to reality, often accompanied by a wave of disgust and self-loathing for crossing a line. but tonight feels…different. a warm heat blooms in his chest, igniting a newfound hunger within him.  

sure, he’s had his share of fantasies about you—he can’t deny how those innocent brushes of your fingertips against his skin sends blood rushing straight to his cock. and that smile of yours, wide and bright, makes his heart race; your eyes sparkle with delight as you look up at him, as if he’s the one lighting up the entire sky when he finally agrees to beat that level for you in your video game.

how on earth could he possibly say no to you when you're batting your lashes up at him with that sweet, innocent look, and pouting those soft, irresistible lips of yours? the sight alone leaves him painfully hard, and he has no choice but to excuse himself to the restroom, desperate to hide the effect you’ve had on him.

but until now, he’s never fully indulged in thoughts of you. yet here he is, for the first time in fifteen years of friendship, finding his pleasure intertwined with visions of you, his best friend.

a few hours later, he’s lying in bed, tossing and turning, consumed by restlessness and agitation. the image of you returning his jacket sends his mind racing—a potent blend of your scent mingling with his, sparking a heat that has him hard all over again. his fingers tighten around his cock as he imagines burying his face in that jacket, inhaling deeply while picturing you draped in nothing but it, reaching for your own pleasure. the mere thought drives him wild, spiraling him deeper into a whirlwind of desire he can’t seem to shake.

and holy fuck—the intensity of his fantasy seizes him, raw and unrelenting. his mind is consumed by the vision of you in his jacket, your fingers slipping into the heat between your thighs. just imagining those delicate digits of yours barely peeking from the ends of his sleeves, the fabric dampened by your slickness, sends his pulse racing like a wild drumbeat.

he pictures you, his jacket collar clutched between your teeth, muffling your moans as you surrender to the pleasure. your brows knit together, unraveling at the thought of him alone. each wave of euphoria slams into him—unforgiving, all-consuming—leaving him gasping. this fantasy floods his senses, his body tense and trembling, until he’s left breathless and spent, the sheets and his skin slick with his release.

the crushing realization hits him like a ton of bricks: he is utterly, irrevocably fucked, with no way back from this.

the next time you come over, it’s a casual, spur-of-the-moment visit—just the two of you, like so many times before. you try not to think anything of it; after all, you've hung out alone countless times without ever tiptoeing past that boundary. still, the idea that tonight might be different crosses your mind a few times.

and baekhyun is savoring every second of this, his gaze lingering a little too long, his smiles a little too knowing. to him, this feels like an opportunity—a chance he’s been waiting for, maybe even one he’s unconsciously prepared for. he’s decided to let himself lean in, to test the waters, eager to see just how far you're willing to go.

what he doesn’t realize is that you, too, have been lost in fantasies of him since that night. you recall the way his gaze lingered on your chest, the heat rising in his cheeks as his throat bobbed with an audible swallow when he caught sight of your hardened nipples, teasingly revealed by the biting cold wind. you had intentionally chosen to forgo a bra, not just for comfort but also, perhaps, to invite his gaze just a little longer.

you know you’re attractive; the combination of your looks and your captivating personality makes you the whole package. countless men have admired and pursued you, but none have sparked the same intense yearning within you as baekhyun does. perhaps it’s the thrill of wanting something you shouldn’t, or maybe it’s the enticing pull of crossing the line with a friend, the sweet taboo that makes it all the more exhilarating.

of course, you’ve had crushes on baekhyun. of course, you found him attractive. but what could you do? after what felt like an eternity of friendship, the last thing you wanted was to jeopardize what you had by crossing a line he might never want to tread.

but the darkness that flickered in his eyes, combined with his blatant struggle to contain the desire simmering within him that night, revealed everything you needed to know.

he wants you, too.

and here you are, perched on one of the barstools at his kitchen island, your eyes sparkling as he pours you a glass of wine, both of you laughing over an inside joke. you tell yourself that this small crush will eventually fade; it’s not the first time you’ve felt this way. these feelings come in waves, and you try to convince yourself this time will be no different. 

yet, deep down, you know that if he ever dared to cross that boundary, you wouldn’t be totally opposed to it. the idea of a friends-with-benefits arrangement with baekhyun sounds undeniably tempting. you both would have your needs satisfied and it comes with the comfort of someone you trust completely.

but you can’t ignore the glaring red flags; it’s a recipe for chaos, waiting to unravel.

you find yourself lost in thought, mesmerized by how annoyingly charming he looks in that simple black long sleeve that hugs his frame just perfectly. the gold chrome heart necklace catches the light, glinting against his skin and accentuating the prominent veins in his neck that pulse with each of his infectious laughs. you can almost envision trailing soft, sweet kisses along that path, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lush lips.

you imagine the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you kiss him, tasting the subtle blend of cedarwood and bergamot lingering on your tongue. you wonder which spot would elicit the sweetest gasp from him—the tender area just to the side of his neck or the delicate skin beneath his earlobe? the thought makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

suddenly, his hand moves unexpectedly, sending a dark crimson splash of wine cascading across your top. it’s purely accidental, yet a thrill courses through him as he realizes what he’s done, a mischievous grin spreading across his face that he tries to wipe away.

for a brief moment, his gaze lingers on how the wine-darkened fabric clings to you, revealing hints of your shape beneath. his heart races, a blend of guilt and something deeper surging in his chest, but he quickly recovers, moving to grab you a clean shirt from his bedroom.

“ya tryna’ steal all my clothes or somethin’? first my jacket, now my shirt. unbelievable,” he teases with a light smack of his lips, his tone dripping with mock exasperation as he hands you the oversized garment with a playful smirk. “i should start chargin’ you.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as you take it from him. “whatever, i bet you like seeing me in your clothes, baek.” 

as you head toward his bedroom to change, you catch a glimmer in his eye, a playful twinkle, and a teasing smirk curls at the corners of his lips. “maybe i do, cupcake,” he says, his voice low and inviting, making your heart race just a little faster.

the moment baekhyun sees you wrapped in his shirt, it’s game fucking over. it’s as if he’s left his mark on you, claiming you with the very fabric that clings to your skin. his clothes carry his scent, embody his essence, and now they’re draped over you.

he feels himself straining painfully against his pants, a hard, aching weight pressing insistently, and he’s almost insulted by your obliviousness to it. you carefully avoid looking even when curiosity tugs at you, but he doesn’t share your restraint. his gaze roams over your skin with an eagerness that makes your pulse quicken. it’s the intensity of his stare that draws his attention to the wine spilling on your skirt.

he could be a decent guy and offer you a pair of his sweats to wear, but the thought of them clinging to your frame, sitting low on your hips, would probably have him cumming in his pants. 

so instead, your best friend, byun baekhyun—the man whose every nuance you know by heart—drops to his knees before you. his fingers brush the hem of your skirt, teasingly, as if he’s contemplating the boundaries between friendship and something far more tempting.

“uuummm…w-what are you doing?” you ask, caught somewhere between disbelief and the thrill simmering beneath your skin. baekhyun on his knees is almost cruel—the way his tongue flicks over his lips, eyes dark and hungry, as if he’s aching to taste you. you press your thighs together, the slick heat between them betraying you, and pray he doesn’t notice. “this isn’t funny, baek.”

“’m not laughin’,” he says, his tone flat, gaze dipping to the stain on your skirt. “look, your skirt’s ruined.”

“oh,” you mumble, only now noticing the dark wine blotch spreading through the fabric.

a wicked grin spreads across his lips, his teasing smile lighting up his eyes. “huh? what’s wrong??? you get all flustered when i’m on my knees like this, cupcake?”

“shut up,” you snap, trying to pull away, but his hands grip the backs of your thighs, anchoring you in place. his cool fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt, pressing against the curve of your ass, sending shivers through you. you can see the smug smirk on his face, and it only fuels your irritation. “god, you’re such an asshole.”

“i know,” he murmurs, his voice low and melting into the quiet. his hands drift higher, fingertips gliding over your skin until his thumbs trace slow, deliberate circles at the tender crease of your thighs. each touch leaves you breathless, your pulse racing beneath the heat of his hands. “’m sorry, cupcake,” he whispers, his words settling over you like a tease, soft and unrelenting.

“no, you’re not,” you reply, breathless and disoriented, completely trapped in his enchantment.

a mischievous gleam lights up his eyes as realization dawns—

you’re completely fucking nude underneath this skirt.

“you’re right, cupcake. i’m not sorry. but, i don’t think you are either.”

“what?” you chuckle, confusion flickering on your face. “what the hell do i have to be sorry for? you’re the one being a tease.”

in a single, fluid motion, he tugs your skirt down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. he grips the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, the fabric bunching tightly in his fist. his knuckles turn white from the intensity of his hold as he keeps you anchored in place, his gaze consuming every inch of you. his eyes blaze with unrestrained hunger while he struggles to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

“for showing up at my place without wearing any panties,” his voice a deep rumble that sends a delicious shiver down your spine. the sight of you, stripped of all defenses, vulnerability laid bare, makes his mouth water with want. “and then you act like you don’t want me to fuck you senseless... like we’re more than just friends. so tell me, cupcake, who’s really the tease here?”

growing up, you often wondered if it was cosmic alignment or if byun baekhyun was just simply one of god’s favorites, but one thing was undeniable: he always got what he wanted. whether it was being the mastermind behind your senior year’s water balloon ambush during lunch without so much as a reprimand, effortlessly scoring extensions on assignments because he’d partied a little too hard the night before, or slipping through the cracks at work despite his remarkable talent for slacking off—baekhyun embodied luck itself. he glided through life untouched, seemingly charmed, as if the universe conspired to bend to his every whim.

and this wasn't any different.

it hadn’t taken much for him to coax you into letting him taste you—just a few soft, insistent kisses pressed to your thighs, and those pleading, puppy-dog eyes never once leaving yours as he whispered gentle pleas between each kiss.

“i….i just don’t want to ruin anything,” you finally manage, finding the courage to voice your worry. “we’re best friends, baekhyun.”

he grins against your thigh, that mischievous, toothy smile sending a wave of heat straight through you. he can feel your hesitation, and he finds it endearing. “i know, i know... but weren’t we just talking about how awful dating is? why not turn to each other for... well, our more physical needs?”

you scoff, raising an eyebrow. "what? like being friends with benefits?"

he just smiles up at you, his lips brushing against your skin with a teasing touch. “exactly.”

your mind drifts back to that very conversation from a few days ago—before he lent you his jacket. that night when you could undeniably feel his boner pressing against you through the soft fabric of his sweats as he hugged you goodbye. but you were too sweet to call him out on it.

you’d been sprawled across his bed, face buried in his pillow, complaining about the dismal dating scene, and baekhyun had flopped down beside you, humming in agreement. you’d told him you just wanted someone to have fun with, no strings attached, just casual. you can still remember the glint in his eye, as if he’d just stumbled onto a revelation. but before either of you could dive deeper into the moment, your friends had rung the doorbell, leaving the conversation hanging in the air, unfinished.

“c’mon, cupcake,” he murmurs, pulling you back to reality as his grip tightens beneath the soft curve of your ass. “you know you can trust me, right? i trust you. and if you ever feel like you wanna step back, just say the word, and we’ll go back to the way things were—easy peasy. i promise, you and i are way too locked in for things to ever turn sour between us.”

you want to believe him, to convince yourself that crossing this line won’t lead to serious repercussions. but as his gaze drinks you in, his eyes fixed on your glistening folds while he inches dangerously closer, your thoughts begin to spiral.

you’re torn, caught in an internal war where the fear of losing what you have wrestles with the intoxicating thrill of what could be. you don’t want to think about the consequences; you don’t want to step back from this moment.

you don’t want to.

so you don’t.

and the moment your lips part to whisper a breathy, "okay, deal," he’s on you, his hunger for you overwhelming and relentless. his hands and mouth move with a frantic urgency that pulls a gasp from your lips, your body arching into him as if it’s been craving this all along. your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer, while your head falls back in pure ecstasy, each breath a desperate gasp.

all you can think is why the fuck neither of you had suggested this idea sooner.

after what feels like an eternity of his mouth worshipping every sensitive inch of you, your leg draped over his shoulder, allowing his tongue to fuck you deeper, you’ve lost track of all the orgasms he’s coaxed from you. finally, he lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against him as he strides toward his bedroom, laying you back against the cool sheets of his bed. his shirt rides up around your waist, exposing you just enough for him to savor the sight of his cock sinking into you again and again, moving with a rhythm so perfect it leaves you both trembling.

this was unlike anything either of you had ever known—something that almost felt otherworldly. the way your bodies fit together was as if crafted by design, every inch of you molding around him like a second skin. the warmth of your slick, welcoming heat wrapped around him so perfectly it took his breath away, leaving him trembling with every deep, steady thrust. and somehow, he struck that perfect spot inside you every single time, as though he’d always known exactly what made your eyes flutter shut and roll back.

“shiiittt, cupcake. can’t believe you’ve been h-holdin’ out on me. nngghhh—how come you never told me you felt this hah– fuckin’ good?” he groans, voice breathless as he sinks fully inside you.

you let out a needy whine, savoring the way he stretches you in ways that feel almost too good. “i w-was just about to ask you the same thing, hah—.”

the sinful symphony of your breathless whimpers entwined with his low, desperate groans and the slick, rhythmic sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, far surpassing any fantasy baekhyun has ever imagined of you. he never anticipated that you would feel this intoxicating, sound this alluring—nothing could be sweeter than the overwhelming pleasure flooding his senses in this moment. no masterpiece in the louvre could rival the sight before him: you, brows furrowed in pure bliss, eyes tightly shut, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to stifle your helpless moans that escape with each thrust of his hips.

you grasp the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling with the desperate urge to strip it away and feel the warmth of his skin pressed against yours. but he only smirks, dipping down to capture your lips in a kiss that steals your breath—and any thought of undressing. “wanna fuck you with this on, cupcake,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, possessive growl. his mouth moves hungrily over yours, his fingers tangled firmly in your hair, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

with each relentless thrust, he whines as if he’s lost all control, his voice a breathy murmur of filthy words that spill from his lips. it’s as if he forgets he has you pinned beneath him, taking every last inch, intoxicated by the delicious feeling of your gummy walls wrapped so wet, so tight around him. he’s undeniably pussy drunk, his excitement spilling over as he slurs his words against your mouth.

“god, you look so fucking sexy in my clothes. ngh— from now on, i only w-wanna see you wrapped in my things. hah– oh f-fuck. i hate your fucking clothes.”

“b-but…hah—f-ffucckk” you gasp, the words stumbling out as his hips grind into you, rendering coherent thoughts nearly impossible. “that was my favorite outfit, baek.”

“yeah? hah— such a fuckin’ tease wearing that skirt.” he rasps in your ear, his breath warm and sending shivers racing down your neck. “if ya bent over even a lil’, i woulda' seen everything. but you knew that...didn’t ya, cupcake? you wanted this to happen, right? wanted me to fuck you like this?”

your mind is a haze, words slipping away like sand through your fingers. all you can manage is a breathy, “y-yes!” accompanied by a frantic nod as he pulls you closer to the edge. the only thing you can focus on is the way his throbbing length is striking your sweet spot with such perfect precision. his fingers, deft and teasing, dance over your clit, each flick and swirl sending you spiraling out of control.

baekhyun can feel the way you clench around him, your moans growing louder and more unrestrained, each breathless sound pulling him closer to his own climax. “that’s it. that’s my good girl. shiiitt— just let go f’me. oh god, you feel so hah—good, takin' me so well. you’re so f-fuckin’ perfect,” he urges, his gaze locked onto yours as he drives you further into bliss, fucking you through the waves of pleasure that threaten to consume you.

the orgasms crash over you in relentless waves, each one merging into the next, as he drags out your pleasure with every deep thrust of his hips paired with the teasing circles of his fingers on your clit. your breathless cries of his name spill from your lips, pushes him closer to his own release. and as he finally lets go, he’s dressing you once more, this time layering your stomach and thighs with the warm, slick ribbons of his cum.

you swear you hear him mumble something about burning every last piece of your wardrobe, replacing each item with his—clothes infused with his scent and marked by his touch. his. his. his.

but best friends don’t lay claim on each other like that…do they?

nope. 

and they definitely don’t fuck like this either.

a/n: omg when i was editing this i was like 'damn he's literally hard throughout this entire story' lmfaooooo. shoulda titled this fic 'boner baekhyun' tbh 😭 hope ya enjoyed the smut loviezzzzz 💞

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[iwasnevrrhere]

We had our 1st anniversary yesterday

Idk, I just feel…off

Like, there’s so many things I’ve learned abt his person, that idk how to feel abt

Ik they say, once you start making a pros and cons list…just wrap it up

And if I’m going to be honest, I feel like he feels for me that is doesn’t HAVE to be me.

Like, it just so happen to be be me…rn

What I learned is…we’re really different

Like we grew up differently and in different place, w different ppl.

And I feel like some of my basic beliefs, it’s his…or atleast things he could talk to me abt…BUT THEN AGAIN…ION KNOW. And it’s bc he never talks to me abt anything.

He never says things that I can improve on. NO NOTHING. Like he doesn’t talk to me abt what type of future he sees and wants for himself. And the future that he would like to have w me.

Every time I ask what goals do you wanna hit in our relationship? He eve we has an answer.

And I’m expecting to hear things like, “in 2yrs I wanna live in w you.” Or anything like, “this upcoming yr let’s work on becoming financially stable so we can do xyz by x amount of yrs.

It just seems like, he’s going w they flow w no plan…and that doesn’t make me feel secure in our relationship when you can’t even tell me how you feel abt me

I learned that he’s such a worrier. And it’s…frustrating.

It’s frustrating to me bc, I notice it. And all I try and do is ease his anxieties and make things easier for him. But whenever I ask, he always says it’s nothing or he’s fine. When little does he know…I can see it all over him.

It’s the body language,your mannerism, the low and soft speaking, it’s the activity trying to avoid eye contact in public, it’s every time we go out you walk BEHIND me; or you don’t even wanna go into the store and you’d send me instead.

It’s giving social anxiety. But it’s confusing bc he talk abt this dream and fantasy of being surrounded but a bunch of ppl…and you’re ALREADY having difficulties w being in public spaces.

You hate going to malls, you don’t wanna go to any stores and would rather drive around for 10mins wasting gas bc you only wanna shop at a store that has self checkout bc you don’t wanna be around ppl…it makes you uncomfortable. WHICH IS OK…BUT, it’s bleeding into MY life

It’s making me think abt the type of person I like and dislike…and if I’m gonna be w a guy, I literally want shit to flow, be natural, and we don’t look awkward. Like it feels like I’m forcing you outside to do activities you don’t wanna do. And that’s an issue for me.

But then idk if it’s bc he has adhd that he’s awkward. And if that’s the case, I’m learning something abt myself…I don’t think I can date someone w a disability I guess. Not anything against ppl w a disability. I have a close sibling w a disability and a younger brother w adhd also…I also WANT to be a teacher for children w disabilities. But DATING… it’s difficult. And idk if this is something that I can, and or want to, put up w long term…or even now.

And he’s soooo into being on the internet and…not me🤷🏾‍♀️ like he literally told me that he was mad or felt some type of way w me bc I deleted my ig. And he said he seen and then started talking abt how the internet is for networking so why would I delete it?

Whole time…networking w who?? I don’t even use ig and never have…so there’s no point of me having it… plus I don’t want to see the ppl that I went to school w in middle school doing better than me…it depressing…I’m moving at a different pace and seeing I’m behind isn’t inspiring, it’s depressing.

I don’t wanna be in competition w anyone but myself. I don’t want yo compare myself to other ppl…bc I KNOW myself, and all it’s gonna do is send me into a spiral. And I’d rather avoid that, by moving in THE REAL WORLD, and not the fabricated vision on the internet…sorry I don’t wanna be like everyone else by posting…it gives desperate and attention seeking…and that’s too close to begging for me🤷🏾‍♀️

Like I just want him to start thinking and moving realistically, start taking accountability, and actually put in the work to do and be better instead of just talking abt it and apologizing for the lack…but he would rather just come up excuses instead of just fixing it.

Fixing it is humiliating…and I get that. Bc that means you made a mistake…publicly…and you have to fix it…publicly…and it’s nerve wrecking and everybody’s watching and judging and you don’t wanna fuck up. But it’s not just YOU, it’s EVERYBODY.

Everybody’s looking at each other to see what they’re doing and if it’s works so they can do it too w/o the mistake.

I wish he understood that and knew that. But he hates the world and everyone and is always on guard…but at the same time very self centered and think ppl are out to get him or spying on his work so they can steal it and say it’s there’s…which is crazy to me bc I’m trying to figure out what it is that ppl wanna steal from you that YOU put them on to…delusional.

[trappolia]

do you have any of your head canons for rhys and aenea :33 or information about their relationships with other characters :0 or or choices you’ve made within each playthrough.. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I DONT UNDERSTAND 💗💗💗

i do in fact have some hcs about them !! tw once again for the long post </3

rhys is a neutral evil character !! it's why he got along so well w/ gortash (lawful evil character who could allow rhys access to many, many benefits) and crashed horribly w/ orin the red (chaotic evil). though he certainly has very violent tendences (see: his reign of terror as a child that accumulated in his foster father's death) and fantasises about gore and bloodshed more so than a regular bhaalspawn, he's actually very put-together if not provoked (or aroused, in gortash's case) — which is why he worked so well as a cog in the absolute scheme. he's a very serious character as well, and it shows in his taste (black coffee ... takes his whiskey neat ... only likes bitter food).

HOWEVER! if he has one downfall, then it is that he is horribly high-maintenance — more so than astarion, if you can even believe it. he was of noble background, so he was served by a whole team of staff all day every day until his downfall as a noble heir, and even after being taken to the temple of bhaal, he refused to sleep in that nasty, mouldy place ... stale blood is yuck, even if it is blood and gore and all the things the son of bhaal loves. scleritas fel has been mauled a few too many times for not finding a suitable place of boarding for the beloved son ...

oh, and don't even get me started on when rhys started sleeping w/ gortash. based on this post here, i love how it's basically canon that gortash spoiled durge rotten. it doesn't matter that rhys used to be cosplaying as a rich man like he was before, he's now legitimately rich. i'm talking about being gifted not only fresh corpses or terrified citizens to torment, but also jewels, fine fabrics, embroidered clothes — hell, even a whole suite in gortash's estate that is not fucking necessary because rhys sleeps with gortash in his chambers anyway. they are literally faerun's most annoying couple — but it is also vital to me that you understand this: gortash and rhys were truly, genuinely in love (even if it was a warped display of what love is) i literally think about them every day.

+

as for aerea ! she's a neutral good character; wyll's voicelines mention how she was generally an upstanding noble heiress growing up until any incident where her morals are being compromised ... duke ravengard has had to pull several strings to get her out of trouble, but she never got any proper scolding for it because she does have decent morals (unlike a certain brother of hers...) and so her acting out was actually called for. there have been incidents where aerea got overly attached and was unable to make a rational decision (see: gale's dilemma with the orb) but it all worked out in the end (he does not blow himself up in this playthrough, i promise).

like rhys, aerea is spoiled ... except she's really, properly spoiled. however, unlike rhys (who lacked a proper parental figure for FOREVER) she was taught manners, so she's generally better at sucking things up and keeping quiet about how she wants to be back in her estate at baldur's gate, sleeping on her silken bedsheets and feathered pillows ... evidently, she's been going through torture while on the road. she also shares rhys' love for the finer things in life, though her wardrobe palette is significantly ... well, lighter than his. she has a sweet tooth too! wyll used to sneak her sweets during lessons (they were tutored together).

aerea is also much, much more popular amongst the companions than rhys is in his own playthrough ... which is ironic because her nickname as a child was literally "the bitch princess" (reference to her general personality + her worship of the bitch queen umberlee). they adore this tiny half-drow with her odd tendencies and her self-sacrificial habits of throwing herself into the line of fire for any of them (she has known all of them except for wyll for a grand total of three days). the people's princess, truly.

+

but the siblings as a duo ... oh, what tragedy. rhys is canonically dead in aerea's playthrough, and rhys has no memory of aerea in his playthrough ... which would mean a blank slate for them to start anew as a proper family, if rhys had not chosen to become bhaal's special little boy and start on his rampage to massacre the entire fucking world. since aerea is somewhat exempt from his bloodlust, i feel that she'd somehow survive the shit that goes down in baldur's gate and start to gather forces to rebel against what was once her brother ... oh my god. oh my fucking god i don't even want to think about it. holds my head in my fucking hands.

but them as children !!! oh, what joy. i hc that they managed to stay together up until they were 10 or so ?? no older than 11, surely. they were raised as twins even though rhys is by right a few years older than aerea ... whether he just ages slow or she aged quickly during her youth, i haven't decided yet. but due to the circumstances of aerea's birth, they were very much attached at the hip !! it's actually the reason why scleritas fel separated them, since rhys couldn't achieve True Bhaalspawn form while his sister was nullifying his bloodlust ... bhaal's acolytes just really hate to see a decent pair of siblings (they preferred orin and her doing little lobotomies on her older brother ... fun). but before shit went down, they were so happy !! snuck around together a lot, ate snacks, played pranks on citizens passing by underneath the balcony (aerea has had to stop rhys from dropping a potted plant on their heads more than once) ... ah, bliss.

[yelenasdog]

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 (𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 “𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱” 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: literally the nastiest fucking smut, fluff

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: phoenix isn’t the biggest fan of summer. it’s hot, humid, and penny’s niece has a thing for sundresses. a few too many drinks, and phoenix is letting her know exactly how she feels about them. 

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.1k (i got so carried away holy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i’m (barely lmao) a minor so if that makes you uncomfy don’t read, reader has hair long enough to tie up, smut, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of pet names (princess, baby), semi public sex (not really, it’s in a supply room at the hard deck), alcohol mentions, so. much. swearing, i have an obsession w parenthesis (if u can’t tell) and i think that’s it lol

𝐚/𝐧: @eminems-skittles​ and i were texting abt this last night at like 2 am and i was like fuck it so here this is! lmfaooo also, the women in the moodboards (aside from monica obvi) aren’t meant to be what the reader looks like, simply just the dress i imagined reader wearing + the vibes i imagine ms. phoenix was giving at the beach LOL. i’ll stop rambling now, enjoy!

ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ✪ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

It was summer in Fightertown, U.S.A., a fact that Natasha Trace was unfortunately acutely aware of. The air was so hot and so thick you could slice through it, but it was no better than the tension filling the interior of the Hard Deck as she sat, nursing her beer. Small beads of sweat formed on the nape of her neck, and her normally slicked back hair found freedom in the warmth. The humidity was dreadful in those aspects, but that was manageable. 

Expected, even.

But what wasn’t expected, was Penny’s niece, Y/n.

Y/n was new in town, only staying for the summer to help her beloved aunt out. And during the short time she’d been working at the hard deck, she’d managed to catch everyone’s attention. Phoenix was not exempt from this group. Whatsoever.

Y/n had bright eyes and a soft smile, similar to her aunt in that way. And also in that she had a certain ability to make those around her feel special.

For Nat, it was the light lingering touches when she would hand her a new bottle, attempting to take the old one out of the way. 

Their hands would brush, and the normally assertive Phoenix would find herself blushing and stumbling over her words like a schoolgirl all over again. 

“Sorry!” She’d exclaim, with the sundress donned girl standing opposite of her doing just the same. They’d laugh, and then go their separate ways for the rest of the night until Natasha inevitably needed another beer.

(Or 2, even if the second was only really ordered as she was building up courage to talk to Y/n. Which, spoiler alert, she didn’t.)

This would happen anytime the young aviator came to the old rickety bar, and even though she knew that it was how Y/n was with everybody, she still couldn’t help herself from becoming absolutely infatuated.

Oh, and the other reason Natasha was counting on her lucky stars to make it through this summer? Those damn sundresses.

I mean hey, they’re practical! 

Nat knows better than anyone how the oh, so thin fabric was perfect for the scorching heat. She knew that the flowy shape that managed to drape around Y/n in the most exquisite way, must have been perfect for keeping her cool as she moved about in the crowded establishment. And she knew she felt like a total perv everytime she would watch as Y/n bent over to grab the box of those beers kept under the bar just for Mav.

I mean, shit, she couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to just sneak her hand under the fabric, make her come apart in front of everyone without them even knowing it. Using just her fingers, taking her right then and there.

But today, things were different. 

It was barely 4:30 (or 16:30, if you had asked anyone in the Hard Deck aside from Y/n, which at the moment, was just Phoenix).

Y/n’s hair was messily tied up, baby hairs wildly astray, similarly to the woman in front of her. She smoothed a manicured hand over the top, taking a second to rest against the bar, white cleaning rag still clutched in her other hand. She allowed herself a moment of peace to watch Natasha, who had come in the hard deck early after being grounded all day.

“So,” Y/n began, her tone slightly unsure, startling the other girl. “What’re you doin’ in here so early, Phoenix?” She looked back up from her feet, warm brown eyes meeting her own.

She shook her head, scoffing, then lifting her hands up to her ponytail. She pulled the elastic from her thick strands, fed up with all of the loose hairs. She let out a sigh of relief, beginning to lightly massage her scalp.

“My plane broke down this morning, and I didn’t have much else to do. It was supposed to be an easy day anyway, so Cyclone gave me the day off.” She lifted an eyebrow in contemplation, taking another swig from the wet bottle in her hand. 

“I sat on the beach for a while, but with this damn heat?” She scoffed again, shrugging in a fluid motion.

“Couldn’t last more than 15 minutes.” She didn’t break her gaze with the sundress clad Y/n, letting her eyes wander shamelessly.

Y/n inhaled deeply, letting her bottom lip go from where she had it stuck between her teeth.

“There’s always the water if you get too hot?” She suggested the mental image of Natasha, soaking wet and in a bikini, almost too much to handle for the poor girl’s heart.

“With heat like this?” Nat shook her head. 

“The water would feel like a jacuzzi.” They both laughed, enjoying the small banter they had created. But this time, they didn’t go their separate ways. 

They stood parallel to each other, both of them struggling to find the right words to say, but wanting so badly to say them, whatever they may be. Soft 80s rock that Natasha could vaguely recognize as Bette Davis Eyes played on the old jukebox, filling the silence that had fallen between them.

“Y/n! There you are!” Penny’s voice echoed through the empty building, causing the two to break apart, Y/n placing a hand to her hips while Phoenix became heavily interested in the ingredients on the beer label, muttering something about  ”wow, that’s a lot of carbs”. 

Penny gave a skeptical look between the two, tilting her head like some confused mutt. Y/n quickly raised a hand and shook her head left to right quickly, her lips in a thin line. Her aunt widened her eyes, her hands barely raising by her wrists and coming up by her thighs in mock surrender.

“Anyway, Hangman just came back from his assignment, so expect a busy night toni-“ She was interrupted by the opening of the swinging doors, Hangman standing in the middle as cadets and experienced pilots alike flowed in around him, patting him on the shoulders as they went.

“First round’s on Bagman, Boys!” Coyote hollered, to which seas of beige began to flock towards the bar. She gave the brunette across her an apologetic look, before starting to tend to those around her.

About an hour and several rounds later, the doors swung open again, this time revealing the one and only Pete Mitchell.

A variety of shouts and hollers saying “Mav!” could be heard, and a wide smile graced Y/n’s features, causing Phoenix to smile as well. After greeting Jake, he made his way to the old bar, slapping his hand down, warmly greeting the younger girl as well.

“Pete!” She exclaimed, excited to see the older man once more. “The usual?” He nodded, already beginning his survey of the room for Penny. She caught his eyes and smiled, causing both Penny and Y/n to roll their eyes.

Natasha’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the exchange, knowing what came next as Y/n bent over. 

The pretty little white dress she wore rode up, per usual, causing Phoenix to just press her thighs together, down her drink, and look away for the millionth time. 

But what she wasn’t expecting was for her to stay down as she searched the shelves, unable to find what she was looking for. She sighed, standing up and talking to Mav, no doubt telling him it’ll “just be a second” as she has to grab his beer from the back. He nodded and smiled, allowing her to sneak off, right past Nat.

And maybe it was the extra drinks in her, or maybe it was just that Phoenix was to her very limit, but that dress was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

And so taking a quick drink before she could convince herself it was a bad idea, she hopped off of the leather stool, and followed Y/n to the back with her head down, and her confidence high.

“Fuck, where is it?” Before she’d known it, Y/n was back on her knees, the bare skin becoming dirty at the contact with the grimy floor. She cringed to herself, wiping down her hands on her thighs.

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Oh my God! Phoenix, you can’t scare me like that!” She laughed, taking the cautious hand that had been offered by the girl above her, Nat doing her best not to melt given the view she had. Y/n took her hand, even just the small contact sending her brain into overdrive.

Nat’s hand slowly made its way from Y/n’s palm to her waist, testing the waters as she ran small circles. Her other hand gravitated towards the door, sliding it shut and locking it with ease.

“Is this okay with you?” Nat questioned, Y/n finding the strength to give her one of her smiles she adored so much.

“This is more than okay, Nat.” She nearly whispered, before her hands found either side of Phoenix’s face, leaning in and connecting their lips for the first time. 

Phoenix still found that Y/n had things about her that were unexpected, this time as she pushed Natasha up against the shelf, the kiss still continuing despite the clattering of empty beer kegs around them. Y/n allowed her tongue to sweep across the other girl’s bottom lip, Natasha letting out a whimper at the idea of what finally was coming to fruition after so long.

Phoenix let her hands wander, her hands pushing up the flimsy material of the sundress and letting it fall back over her hands. She let one finger swipe over her clothed heat, the sudden contact triggering a moan to fall from Y/n’s plumped lips.

Though she knew that with the current state of the music and the rowdy crowd nobody could really have a chance of hearing them, Phoenix still retracted her hand bringing it up to her lips and making a shushing motion.

“Baby, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re causing a riot.” She chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind Y/n’s ear. 

“How long’s it been since someone touched you like this?” She replaced her hand, this time moving the delicate and lacy white panties to the side, running agonizingly slow, yet delicious circles around her clit.

The other girl began to shake her head side to side, trying to form the words.

“Nobody’s ever- Fuck, Nat!” She took the same finger, briefly swiping it down to collect her slick, and bringing it back up to her clit.

“Nobody other than me has ever-Fuck-It’s only been me!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back. Phoenix’s gaze softened, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Oh, honey. I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

The words themselves were enough to cause another cry to sound from her chest, but as Nat took her by the back of her neck and kissed her again, she wasn’t quite sure of the cause. 

Phoenix continued to allow her nimble fingers to stimulate the area, picking up the pace and then slowing down when Y/n would get too loud. 

(Truthfully, if she could have her way, she’d be as loud as she wanted. But hey, she’d take what she could get.)

Her touch altered from gentle to rough, quick to slow, and it all was to watch the girl in front of her unravel in a way Natasha could only describe as sinful.

It was ironic, though, as in that moment, Phoenix could have sworn nobody had ever looked more angelic than Y/n had.

With her head thrown back, white dress hiked up, writhing and grinding up against Nat’s fingers? Phoenix didn’t know how she was still breathing, and truthfully, Y/n had thought she’d died and went to Heaven.

The dainty chains of the necklaces she wore shimmered under the fluorescent light, as did the thin layer of sweat that shone on her chest as it rose and fell.

The straps of her dress had long ago slipped off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the woman in front of her, only driving her further on her self assigned mission to take Y/n apart piece by piece.

“You have no idea what you do to me when you wear those damned sundresses.”

Not allowing her anytime to adjust, Nat entered two slender fingers, causing a loud moan to be elicited from Y/n’s lips.

“Everytime you wear one, bending over like that to get Mav’s stupid fuckin’ drink. Putting your pretty fuckin’ ass on display for me. Makes me wanna fuck you right there, let ‘em all watch.”

Y/n let out another wanton moan from her filthy words, and Phoenix’s opposite hand quickly found its way to cover Y/n’s mouth, not ceasing her movements. Her palm lightly grazed her clit as her fingers worked in and out, Y/n eliciting another whine, muffled by Natasha’s hand.

Natasha looked up to momentarily watch as the girl in front of her thrashed, her hand that wasn’t supporting her body weight moving to massage the tissue of her breast. Nat let out her own groan upon this realization, burning the mental image into her head. She moved forward, kissing the skin in the surrounding area that Y/n neglected, taking her into her mouth.

“Nat! Oh my God- I”m gonna, Fuck! I can’t, Phoenix!”

Nat released her from her pink lips, her other hand smoothing down her hair while feeling her clench around her fingers.

“Yes, you can, Princess. Hold out for me a little longer, baby.” Nat replied, speeding up her pace. Y/n became louder and louder, her hands grasping at the loose strands of Phoenix’s hair. 

Suddenly, and oh, so cruelly, Natasha removed her fingers, denying Y/n of her sweet release. Y/n mewled, trying to catch her breath.

“If you want this, you need to be quiet for me, can you do that?” Natasha questioned, following Y/n’s gaze, softly dragging her fingertips back and forth her exposed hip.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I promise.”

Natasha groaned, her head dipping down and her fingers digging into Y/n’s flesh.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again.”

A wicked smile found its way to Y/n’s tired features, her lip turning up at the corner. Her finger found the soft skin of Nat’s jaw, tipping her head up to look at her.

“Make me yours, Lieutenant. Take me.”

With that, Nat’s lips found Y/n’s, bringing her into a searing kiss. Their teeth clashed, and Y/n’s hand managed to pull down the top of Natasha’s red tank top, where she, thankfully, wasn’t wearing a bra, having changed straight out of her bikini into the top. 

Y/n let out a sound that was almost pornographic, her head briefly taking solace in the corner of Nat’s neck, her lip latching onto the area, a bruise already forming. 

Her hand toyed with Phoenix’s breast, her other hand tracing down her toned abdomen to below the fabric of her low waisted cutoffs. Nat sharply inhaled, her hands wrapping around Y/n’s shoulders.

“Not now- Shit, Y/n/n- not now baby. Wanna make you feel good.” Her words were breathy as Y/n did her best to mimic Natasha’s previous movements. The sporadic nature of her motions caused Nat to twitch under her.

“Let me take care of you, Lieutenant.” She mumbled, slipping one finger inside her with ease. Phoenix’s eyebrows furrowed, a sigh escaping her lips as she hung her head and bit her lip. Y/n pulled back to watch as Nat used her to hold herself up, basing her movements on her reactions.

She began to feel the familiar tightening around her fingers that she had been inflicting upon her by Nat only minutes ago, and continued her pace. She then retracted her fingers, focusing on maintaining a harsh speed around her clit. A high pitched series of moans came from Phoenix, Y/n leaning forward and shutting her up with her formerly glossed lips, still faintly tasting of watermelon and mango.

“You’re doing so good for me, Princess, fuck. ‘M almost there.” Nat remarked when Y/n pulled away, selfishly wanting to hear as Phoenix reached her release.

“Fucking shit, baby!” She cried, her moans becoming shorter, and her head coming down to the crook of Y/n’s neck. Her hot breath fanned on a sensitive spot, the whimpers elicited from Y/n being what pushed her over the edge.

She came with a small shout, still breathing heavily as Y/n slowly circled the swollen area, helping as she came down from her high.

“Y’know you’re quite a hypocrite about not being loud, Lieutenant.”  She retracted her hand, bringing it up to her mouth and slowly licking them clean, the last one coming from her mouth with a loud “pop!” 

Nat groaned at the sight before her, her hands moving back to Y/n’s waist.

“Shit, Y/n/n, how’d you get so damn good at that?”  

“I learned from the best.” She smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

“By the way,” Y/n started, pulling away. Nat gave a quizzical look, beckoning her on, moving to kiss down her neck. She hummed in a questioning manner, the vibration making Y/n whimper, in a way that could only be described as pathetic.

“I thought sailors were supposed to be the ones who swore like there’s no tomorrow.” She chuckled, her joke getting caught in her throat as Nat looked up, shrugging.

“I guess it’s the whole Navy.” She casually remarked, before resuming her good work. Her hands found the hem of the dress, quickly discarding it, leaving her bare in just those fuckin’ white panties. The small bow Phoenix had failed to notice upon initial discovery of the garment made her feel some kind of way, as if she was a present waiting to be unwrapped.

“You look so pretty like this, Y/n/n.” Natashes remarked, her voice almost a whisper.

And she did, pupils blown out, lips hung ajar, a downright mess for the woman standing opposite to her (and only for her). A soft smile graced her features as she felt a certain warmth creep its way up her neck and to her cheeks at the compliment. Nat grinned at the sheepish behavior, diving back in, leaving open mouth kisses on her chest.

Y/n felt it as the brunette took her time, leaving the most perfect bruises, just like the ones she had left on the other’s neck. She was certain they would be at least somewhat noticeable by the time she had returned to her shift, but she couldn’t find it in her to care in the slightest.

Her head involuntarily was thrown back once more (though she wished she could have watched what was happening), as Natasha continued her endeavor down the center of her body, leaving a trail of kisses and bitemarks alike. 

When she finally reached her clothed cunt, she left teasing kisses on the inside of her thighs, her hands supporting the back of them, her short, dull nails leaving crescent marks on the supple flesh.

She looked up and bit her lip for the thousandth time (she was sure by the end of this she’d be in dire need of some Carmex), smiling at the goddess of a woman above her. 

Y/n thought the same, watching as the Athena-esque woman that was Natasha Trace held her with strong arms and soft hands, having them move to trace up the front of her underwear, pressing firmly and suddenly right where Y/n needed Nat most.

“Oh, Fuck.” She brokenly responded, her breath once again being held from her as Nat slid the white fabric down her thighs, the wetness that had been accumulating for so long beginning to drip down her thigh. 

Phoenix, seeing the opportunity, immediately leaned forward, drawing her tongue along it and cleaning it up, accented with a small nip of her skin. She continued on her path, pressing french kisses to her mound, avoiding where Y/n wanted her most, in stark contrast to earlier.

Y/n, overwhelmed, bit down on the palm of her hand in fear of Natasha stopping if she had heard her make any noise. She took quick notice of this, pulling away momentarily.

“It’s okay, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Y/n widely smiled, groaning as she continued to chase Phoenix's mouth with her heat, blinded by want. Natasha followed her, finding a smooth rhythm. The supply room was filled with the most wonderfully obscene noises, accompanied by the chanting of Nat’s name like some kind of prayer. Phoenix pulled back, her chin glistening with slick and her eyes bright.

“You have the prettiest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen, Princess.”

Y/n felt another wave of heat to her core at her words, which was swiftly and skillfully combated by Nat’s tongue and her nose bumping at her clit. She continued on, moaning into her core at the sweet taste on her tongue, that she was sure was her new favorite.

Grasping at her breasts, she began to feel the familiar building in her stomach, her breath became shorter, and the room started to get hotter.

“Lieutenant-”

“I know baby, I know.”

“Nat, fuck!”

“Come on, baby, I’ve got you. Come for me, princess.”

Hearing her words, that was all she needed to be pushed over the edge with a series of moans, leading up to an exclamation of Nat’s name.

Feeling as her body became rigid, Natasha slowly pressed open mouthed kisses to her clit, taking her through her high as she came down, her body erratically moving in Phoenix’s arms. She then worked her way up, feeling her body become fluid once more in Phoenix’s arms.

They made quick work of recovering, though Y/n could quite make the shaking from the adrenaline to subside. She pulled on her dress first, and before she could find her underwear, she looked over to where Nat had already fixed herself up, and had them hanging from her finger.

“Lookin for these?” She asked, a smug smirk adorning her features.

Y/n jokingly scowled, rolling her eyes.

“Give ‘em, Phoenix. I’m serious.”

Nat threw her hands up in mock surrender, shaking her head and looking to the side.

“I mean, they’re ruined anyway. It’d be best not to have them on.” She persisted. Y/n moved her hands to her hips, realizing that she wasn’t going to budge.

“Whatever, Nat.” She laughed, moving past her, and leaning down to grab the box she had originally came back there for.

Much to Phoenix’s surprise, though, she bent at the knees, revealing absolutely nothing.

Her jaw dropped at this, realizing that all these times-

“It was a ploy?!” She almost yelled, a huge smile on her face.

Y/n turned around, this time taking her turn to shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Nat was left by herself in the small space as Y/n smiled, unlocking the door and walking out to the bar, where Mav was nursing another beer.

“Mav! Sorry I took so long. I see you ended up with just a normal Bud Light, eh?”

Just then, Natasha walked back out, taking her seat at the bar that somehow hadn’t been filled in her absence. Pete looked to her and then to Y/n, shrugging as he took another swig.

“Well, I saw Phoenix follow you back and shut the door, so I figured it would be awhile.”

A mortified look briefly crossed both of their faces, to which he only laughed, laying a hand on top of Y/n’s.

“It’s all good, really. Me and Penny have had our-“

“Okay, okay! Got it, Mav. Thanks.” Y/n choked out, a laugh following suite as she propped up one of his drinks next to him before walking over to where Natasha was sitting, chatting with Hangman. Phoenix gestured for her to come over to the other side of the bar, so she ducked down, coming to stand next to her with her hand on her shoulder.

“So, Y/n,” Jake started, standing from his perch. “Maybe next time you’ll pull me into the closet with ya, hmm?” He clapped Nat on the shoulder in what seemed like some sort of bro solidarity, walking off with a smile.

Phoenix gave him a scowl, pulling Y/n down onto her lap by her waist, her hand quickly finding its way up her skirt once again. Y/n’s breath caught, awaiting her next words with a giddy smile doing its absolute best not to escape.

“Not a fucking chance.”

ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ✪ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

i hope you liked that! if you did, pls make sure to reblog and comment! have a great day/night! make sure to drink some water and eat some protein mwah bye y'all

xx hj

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Carla Ecstasy [01]

[Prologue] [01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [07] [08] [09] [10] [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in the storage room at Banmaden

Yui: Carla-san, are you there...?

...He’s not here either. 

( I ended up at a place which seems unlikely to attract anyone. )

( I guess I won’t find him if I just aimlessly wander around the Castle... )

( I’ll try looking somewhere it’s a little more likely I’ll find him. For now, I’ll return to the hallway. )

ー She walks towards the door.

*Rattle*

Yui: Huh? ...The door won’t open. 

*Rattle rattle*

Yui: ...Uu...!

( Don’t tell me I’ve been locked up in here!? )

*Thud thud*

Yui: Is anyone there!?

*Thud thud*

Yui: Carla-san! Carla-san!!

*Thud thud*

*TIMESKIP*

*Thud thud*

Yui: Ugh...!

( I wonder how much time has passed? )

Nobody will come here...

( Come to think of it, Mertz-san said he’d go to the human world again... )

( Which means Carla-san and I are the only ones at this castle right now... )

( If Carla-san notices that I’m no longer around... )

He wouldn’t go looking for me...I guess? He isn’t feeling well after all...

( Besides, he’s the one who pushed me away, telling me not to follow him around... )

ー Yui can hear approaching footsteps

Yui: ーー !!

( I could hear footsteps outside just now! )

*Thud thud*

Yui: Carla-san? Carla-san!

ー Carla opens the door

*Creaaak*

Carla: ...So this is where you’ve been. 

Yui: C-Carla-san...!

Carla: Why are you in tears?

Yui: ...Ah...I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d come looking for me...

Carla: ...I was not looking for you. I had some business here, that is all. 

Yui: I-I see.

I could no longer get out after entering this room...

Carla: The door here often gets stuck. 

To open it from the inside, you need to know the triーー ...Kuh.

*Rustle*

Yui: Are you alright!?

Carla: ...No problem. I simply moved around a bit too much...

Yui: ( Because he walked around despite not feeling well...? )

Please rest up here for a bit.

Carla: ...Yes.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: You look a bit better now.

Carla: Yes, I feel quite a bit better. ...Hm?

What happened to your hand?

Yui: Eh...?

( Seems like it got a bit red from repeatedly knocking on the door to call for help. )

Carla: Did you...sustain this wound while knocking on the door? 

Selection

→ Don’t worry (M)

Yui: Don’t worry. Look, as you can see...Ow...!!

( I cried out from the pain of the fabric rubbing against the wound. )

Carla: Do not push yourself. 

Yui: O-Okay...Thank you very much. 

But I could say the same to you. I’m worried about you. 

( Just earlier, he walked around in search of me even though he’s been feeling unwell. )

I wish you would be a little more mindful of your own health...

Carla: ...I am not as weak as you humans are. 

Yui: All I want for you is to understand one day...

ー Carla moves closer

*Rustle rustle*

Carla: ...Nn...Nnh.

Yui: ...!

Carla: I feel better already, so I will take care of you now. 

Yui: ( He’s licking the sore area...!? )

→ It honestly hurts a bit (S)

Yui: It honestly...hurts a bit.

B-But! I think it’ll be fine if I cool it down later. 

Carla: I see. 

ー Carla moves closer

*Rustle rustle*

Carla: ...Nn...Nnh.

Yui: ...C-Carla-san...What are you...Ah!

Carla: We need to cool down the wound, right? That’s why I’m licking it like this...Nnh.

Yui: ...Ah.

( I can feel his tongue against my skin...! )

Carla: That look on your face is quite a bit different compared to when I cleanse you...Nnh. 

Yui: W-Well...Ah.

ー Yui closes her eyes

Yui: ( Even though his cold tongue is running across, I feel as if my hand is only heating up more. )

( It’s embarrassing to have him lick me, but still I don’t want him to stop just yet... )

( I wonder if I feel that way...because I have some sort of special feelings for him? (1) )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) I always find the expression 意識する or ‘ishiki suru’ to be extremely tricky to translate. It literally means to be conscious or aware of something, but it is often used in the context of somebody becoming flustered because they interpret the situation in a romantic or sometimes even sexual way. You can also say that you are ‘conscious’ of a certain person (which is the case in this line of dialogue), so I decided to translate it as having special feelings for Carla, since Yui is at that point where she’s starting to get butterflies in her stomach. :p

[doubleleoenergy]

My Oh My

A little bit older, a black leather jacket. A bad reputation, insatiable habits.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (female receiving), HEAVY breeding kink, dirty talk, knotting, mating, beta in heat, blood

Word Count: 2132

Author’s Notes: I am sorry that I am such a whore. This is disgustingly filthy.

“Y/N?” Bucky has one hand on the steering wheel of the Jeep Wrangler, the other gripping his cellphone against his ear. He was headed back towards the ‘Pack Dwelling’, as some would call it, representing the large house in the middle of the woods that his pack all lived in. Bucky had been out meeting with the Stark Pack, a pack of ten located about two hours away from their property.

It was mating season, and having been more ESTABLISHED than the Stark Pack when it came to that time of the year, their alpha Tony had asked to meet up and give advice to his group of betas. Tony himself had been through MANY mating seasons with his mate Pepper, but his pack of betas were fairly young and hadn’t experienced anything related to the first heat. Tony and Bucky explained the process to the males, bringing in the females after with Pepper in tow to help explain to them how their heat would affect them. After staying for a late lunch Bucky finally said his goodbyes, thirty minutes from home when y/n called.

“Buck…” She whined on the other end, the alpha sitting up straighter in his seat. He KNEW what was going on from the sound of her voice, a deep growl leaving his chest. This was it, this was HER first heat. His foot instinctively pressed harder on the gas, a wild look of excitement spreading across his face.

Y/N and Bucky had been together for about three months now, and the moment his cerulean hues locked on her he KNEW she was his. She had been a member of the Romanoff Pack originally, but had lost their alpha in battle. The new alpha that had taken over was cold-blooded, had a thirst for human hunting, something SHE and half of her pack did not agree with. One night, while everyone was asleep, they made their escape, becoming omegas for a few months before stumbling upon Bucky and his pack in town. The rest was HISTORY.

“I know, doll. I promise I’m hurrying.” He was going at least twenty ABOVE the speed limit at this point, not giving a fuck as he traveled on the backroads of town. No cops ever traveled this far back, and there hadn’t been another vehicle on the road for at least ten minutes. “Are you alone?” He questioned, his cock stirring in his dark denim jeans.

“Yes, Peggy also went into heat about the same time as I did today, Steve has been taking care of her in their room. But the new betas, the ones without MATES, they can smell me. They’ve been trying to get in the room but I threatened to rip off their heads if they did.” She KNEW Bucky was pissed, a darker growl wafting through the phone speaker, hearing the sound of the Jeep speeding up.

“They KNOW better.” He snapped, hearing her hold the phone away from her ear as she screamed at the betas who continued to claw at the door. “They should know you belong to ME, you have the mark to prove it, don’t know why they think they can touch their ALPHA’S property.”

Bucky’s words make the wetness between her legs worse, her panties already soaked in her denim shorts. “You can deal with them when you get here. But I really need you to hurry, Buck. I’m SO hot right now.” It felt like her body was on fire, her hips bucking against the pillow on the bed to create stimulation to her clit.

“I’ll be there in FIVE. Then I’ll show those dogs who you BELONG to.”

Bucky barely gets the Jeep in park out in front of their rustic estate, ripping his seatbelt off and slamming the door, the muscles in his arms bulging TAUT against his favorite black leather jacket. The door smacks against the wall as he enters, making the female betas watching a movie on the couch jump.

“Where are they?” He questioned through gritted teeth, pulling his leather jacket off and dropping it to the floor carelessly. One of the betas points in the direction of y/n and Bucky’s master bedroom, his footsteps getting louder as he strides against the hardwood floor.

“BOYS!” His voice is booming, the low growl settling in his chest. The three young betas clawing at the bedroom door stop, turning to look at Bucky with fear in their eyes. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?”

One of the boys looks back at the others, visibly shaking. “W-We’re sorry, alpha. Y/N just smells so GOOD. We can’t help it, we don’t have anyone.” Bucky moves to stand directly in front of them, gesturing to the door which displayed THICK scratch marks now.

“You want her that bad, huh?” He snaps his teeth at them, making them flinch. “Get out of my FACE before I rip your throats out with my TEETH.” The boys scramble, knocking into each other as they sprint down the hall and into the kitchen.

Bucky turns his attention back to the door, jiggling the locked handle a few times before he hears it unlock, pushing it open. Of course the SCENT of her arousal wafted a mile down the road, the stench only getting stronger as he walked closer and closer to the bedroom. His eyes take in the site of his mate, his cock hard as a rock now in his jeans.

She had discarded her shorts and tank top by now, the heat overtaking her, NEEDING to be free. Her drenched panties still clung to her hips, her breasts completely exposed. She looked DAZED, like she was trying to see through a fog, her mouth open and panting for cool air.

Bucky kicks the door shut behind him, walking up to y/n and kissing her deeply, his hands running through her hair. She melts against his lips and his body, feeling him press his tightened jeans against her, a moan leaving her lips when she could FEEL how hard he was already for her. She’s panting again loudly when he breaks the kiss, his hands roaming over the beads of sweat along her back, caressing her body and placing kisses down her jawline. He gently walks them backwards until they fall onto the bed, all of Bucky’s weight pinning her down.

“Buck! I need you, I’m literally on FIRE.” She croaked out, her hands going up into his long locks and tugging. A deep growl emits from his throat again, his teeth scraping against the darkened mating mark on her skin, drawing a few droplets of blood. He’s licking and sniffing all over her neck and collarbones, snaking his body down hers as he scents her, marking him as HIS. This would keep the betas away for sure, her scent covered with HIM.

Bucky watches as y/n arches her back into him as his lips latch onto her breast, sucking for a moment before moving to the other. His lips trailed down her abdomen, stopping to place wet kisses just above her pantyline. “Gotta taste you first, you smell so DELICIOUS.” He teased, a sharp fingernail slicing easily through the thin fabric of her panties. He pulls the shredded bits away, admiring her folds as they glistened with her honey.

Bucky wastes no time, lapping against the juices on the outer folds before diving inward, his beard scratching PERFECTLY against her skin. Soft moans are falling from her lips, her fingers still toying in his hair, hips bucking into his face to take MORE. It isn’t long before she cums, sending sweet liquid to his tongue.

“H-holy shit.” Her eyes close in pleasure, Bucky slurping up all of the liquid she gave him before he pulls back with a smile. “Doll, you taste even SWEETER than usual.” He gets off of her to remove each article of clothing he still had on, kicking his shoes in with the pile, his cock slapping against his stomach as it became free from the fabric binding him in.

He steps forward towards the bed again, tugging on one of her ankles to pull her so her ass is RIGHT up against the edge of the bed, her legs instinctively flexing open at her sides. “Want to take you like this first, fuck you slow on my cock, see your face when I first press into that needy cunt of yours.”

Y/N whimpers on the bed, her flingers moving to tug at her pink nipples. “Please, Buck, NEED to feel you now. I promise I’ll be GOOD.” Bucky settles against her slit, the tip of his cock red and angry, a light sheen of pre-cum leaking out. He lines himself up, one of his hands gripping her hip as he pushes in. His eyes focus on her face, watching it contort with pleasure at being filled finally. His cock was long and girthy, y/n’s cunt swallowing him in until he couldn’t push in any further. 

He barely moves backward before she cums again, tears falling to her cheeks from how incredible it felt. “Baby please move, need MORE of you.” Her nipples are hard from the way she pinched at them, one of her hands moving down so her fingers can press against her clit. Bucky’s hips move back so he’s halfway out of her before plunging back in again, bottoming out. He can HEAR how wet she is as he picks up his pace, a rumble stirring in his chest.

“Doll, you feel so good, so wet for me. Look at you, milking my cock for more.” He fucks her like that for a few minutes before pulling out, y/n whimpering at how EMPTY she felt. “Get on your hands and knees, ass up.” She does as she’s told, rolling over onto her knees and sticking her ass up high. Bucky SHOVES his cock back in, going deeper in this position than he had been before. His rough hands grab onto her hips, his nails digging into her skin as he fucks into her animalistically.

“So fucking good, look so BEAUTIFUL on your alpha’s cock.” Her walls tighten as she cums a third time, mumbling nonsense, a lazy smile spreading on her face. Bucky chuckles, one of his hands moving into her hair, tugging her flush up against him. He tilts her face so he can see her, her eyes fighting the urge to close. “Look at you, going fucking STUPID on your alpha’s cock. Can’t even stop yourself from coming, like the whore in heat that you are.”

She’s drooling a bit, letting him fuck her senseless. “Yes alpha. I’m a whore in heat, only for YOU.” He can feel his orgasm building, a guttural groan escaping his throat.

“Gonna cum in that sweet cunt, fuck you down onto my KNOT to fill you full.” The hand on her hip snakes around to rub over her stomach, his hips snapping against her harder. “You’ll look so good all SWOLLEN with my pups, gonna keep you full of my cum always, make you my breeding whore.” Y/N loses it again, submitting as she cums one last time, the hand Bucky had in her hair moving forward to grip her throat, touching along their mate mark.

“You like the thought of that, huh? You came just from THINKING about me using you as my breeding whore. Maybe when you’re heavy with my pups I’ll bring you out into the living room and make the beta boys WATCH as I fuck you, let them watch what a whore you are for me. Let them know who you belong to as I fuck you stupid.” She’s whimpering at how good all of it sounds, swallowing as best she could with his hand around her throat.

“Y-yes alpha, PLEASE, want you to do all of that. Want you to breed me, tie us together with your KNOT, want to be your breeding whore.” Her words are all it takes before his knot builds inside of her, tying them together as she wanted, ropes of cum spurting deep inside of her, breeding her full. Her stomach BULGES from all of the cum that’s pumped inside her, wincing at the sting of the knot as it locked her into place. Bucky releases his hand from her throat, her body heaving forward and collapsing on the bed, his own body resting atop hers.

He places gentle kisses to her shoulder, nuzzling against her. “Did so GOOD, doll. Can’t wait till we have a little family of our own.” She smiles, her breathing finally steadying and the fire on her body dissipating a bit.

“A little family of potential alphas to take their daddy’s place someday. I like the sound of THAT.”

[queenmylovely]

Okay Ben looks too adorable here with his pink nose 🥺 and i need a cute blurb about it....maybe some smut if you're up for it 🤭 thanks babe ily 😘

wow you totally read my mind and the thots I had about this picture 😉 

so this is 2k of pretty much all smut (18+, fem!reader) so enjoy! 

☆☆☆

You were hanging out on the couch with your current book and a nice cozy blanket when you heard the front door opening and looked up. In walked Ben, home from his covid-restrictions-approved hangout with Gwilym and Allen at a nearby pub. They had sat outside, so Ben was wearing a jacket and his nose and cheeks had cute pink flushes to them that made you want to pepper a thousand little kisses all over them.

With a bright smile, you asked him, “Hey babe, did you have a good time?”

Ben nodded quickly as he toed off his shoes, “Yeah I d-did, but I literally c-can’t t-talk I’m so fucking c-cold right n-now.”

You could tell it was true because of the way his teeth were chattering and you frowned in sympathy, “Come here, lay down with me. You can leave your jacket on since you’re so cold.”

“W-well, I actually have a d-double layer, so I’ll t-take the first one o-off,” Ben admitted as he shrugged off his outer jacket, leaving a big hoodie on.

Lifting the blanket for him to climb under, Ben’s eyes boggled for a second at what you were wearing. It was a negligee style nightdress, lilac and lacy, but the fabric was thicker than an actual negligee would have been and it wasn’t sheer.

“D-did you wear this just for m-me?” Ben grinned as he found his place on top of you.

“It’s hard to take you seriously with your teeth chattering like that,” you told him with a smirk as you fixed the blanket on top of him. “And no, you perv, I just got this from my online order and it’s not even lingerie, it’s pajamas.”

“Well I’m g-gonna appreciate it l-like l-lingerie,” he said with a sneaky smile.

“Can you at least get warmed up first?” you rolled your eyes, rubbing your hands on his arms.

“Actually, I think I k-know what c-could help with that, since it’s m-my face that’s the c-coldest,” Ben said, none of the sneak leaving his expression.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I think if I p-put my face r-right here,” he paused, dropping his face to nestle in your breasts, and his next words were muffled but you could just understand him, “I’ll be warmed up in n-no time.”

You laughed but let him stay where he was, although you had to admit that his cold face in your chest made you shiver. Ben stayed like that for several minutes as you read your book, and thankfully his breath was warm enough to combat his cold skin. But sure enough, as time ticked by you could feel his face returning to a normal temperature, and if you weren’t mistaken, you could also feel Ben getting a little excited by your lower thigh.

“So now that you’re all warmed up, are you gonna tell me about your night?” you asked, setting down your book and combing your hands through his hair. Ben slowly lifted his head and as you made eye contact you saw how dilated his pupils were and felt a little something yourself.

Ben nodded, “Sure, well even though we have had our zoom calls and regular ones, we had a ton to catch up on, and it was good to see them in person while having a drink.”

“Uh-huh,” you kept playing with his hair.

“And they told me about their projects, you know, and-- ah,” Ben moaned as you tugged on his hair for just a second, and when you did it again before he could even restart what he was saying, he looked down at your chest and then back up at you with a cheeky smile.

You swallowed as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the valley between your breasts. And then another right along the edge of your nightdress. And then he pushed the straps down your arms until both of your breasts were exposed and made a path of kisses to your right nipple, kissing it softly as well. You breathed out and waited and Ben finally wrapped his lips around it and sucked, making a jolt of pleasure move through your body. It wasn’t long before he switched to the other side, using his tongue and lips as he had on the other to make you gasp softly.

Then he began another trail of kisses, this time up your chest, neck, and to your mouth, bringing his lips to your own in a searing kiss. Ben’s tongue slipped in your mouth and you moaned, widening your legs in an invitation for him to move his hips on top of yours.

He ground his crotch into you at just the right angle, rubbing against your clit and you nodded into the kiss, breaking it just to murmur, “Do that again.”  

Ben complied and the two of you fell into a rhythm of hips and hands and lips and moaning and oh fuck this was good. One of Ben’s hands was on your breast, massaging it and squeezing your nipple, and the other braced him so his hips could keep moving with yours. Your hands, however, were free to do whatever they wanted so you moved them between his hair, up his shirt to grab at his pecs and abs, and his ass, pulling him into you.

Soon the pleasure had built enough to the point where you were practically panting in each others’ mouths and you pulled back to tell him, “Benny, time to fuck me.”

Ben would’ve chuckled at your wording if he wasn’t so turned on and hard, so instead he just nodded and kneeled between your knees to undo his belt and push down his pants. But when he was about to push them past his knees, you lifted your dress, and the sight of your bare pussy stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh come on, now please say that is for me,” Ben groaned, putting himself back above you and gripping his cock in his hand.

You smiled, just as cheeky as he had been a few minutes earlier, “Only for you.”

“Fuck,” Ben lined himself up with your entrance and started to push in, slowly until he bottomed out. He dropped his head back to your chest, though this time it seemed like it was because he physically couldn’t hold it up, and asked, “Can I move?”

“Yes, please move Benny,” you told him, one hand going to his hip to start the movement, and the other quickly grabbing the blanket and pulling it back up from where it had slipped because you didn’t want to get chilly.

Ben didn’t seem to notice the blanket’s weight on his back, much too focused on setting the perfect pace as he thrusted in and out of your pussy, how wet you were making it easy to get it right. You wrapped your legs around him to keep him from going anywhere because he was making you feel so good you couldn’t think about anything else.

Your hand moved back into his hair, pulling it on and off, basically whenever a thrust was particularly good. Ben, for his part, was pressing hot kisses to your breasts, mumbling about how perfect they were, how perfect you were, and how perfect you felt. It wasn’t an unwelcome ego boost, and gave you a heady feeling that increased your pleasure, so much so that you started clenching around him.

“Oh fuck, babe, ah I’m so close, are you?” Ben whined, slowing his thrusts and looking up at you as he waited for your answer.

“You’re making me feel so good, Benny, but I’m not that close yet,” you told him the truth.

“Okay,” he nodded, staying still inside of you to give himself a chance to cool down just a bit. But he wasn’t giving you the same chance, and one of his hands went between you, two fingers rubbing against your clit in just the way he knew you liked. Then he dropped his head down again and switched between your nipples, sucking lightly to offset the pressure on your clit.

The whole thing made your head swim, and a couple minutes later you were writhing below him, your pussy clenching on his stilled cock.

“Now, Ben, now I’m close, oh so close,” you told him, wanting him to start fucking you again so bad you could hardly get the words out fast enough.

“Good,” he looked at you and smiled, and you tried to return it, but as he started thrusting again, all you could do was whine.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet and tight,” Ben moaned, his voice getting higher as he moved in your heat.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, not really knowing what you were agreeing to because all of your focus was on how good his dick felt inside of you, and how good his fingers felt on your clit.

Then suddenly it was hitting you, and your back arched into him, your legs pulled him tighter, and your pussy pulsed around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and you cried out, “Ben, Ben, Ben-- ohhhh.”

Ben kept doing the same exact thing as he watched you through your high, how your face moved in your pleasure, and especially how your lips formed his name.

As you started to come down, Ben slowed his thrusts, but as soon as you could form whole sentences again you told him, “Keep going, Benny, get close again.”

You kissed him again as he resumed his pace, helped along by your hips moving in time with his.

He wasn’t far off, and soon he warned you with a voice much higher than usual, “Babe I’m-- ah, I’m close again.”

“Okay,” you pecked his lips quickly. “Do you wanna cum on my tits?”

If he wasn’t so close, Ben would’ve stopped in his tracks, but that wasn’t an option right now.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, eyes wide with excitement. It wasn’t as if he had never done this before, but both of you tended to prefer him cumming inside of you (for the intimacy). Tonight you had figured he seemed extra fascinated by your breasts, so what the hell?

“I’m not kidding, but you better hurry up before I just make you cum in my pussy,” you teased, but you did clench around him again.

As quickly as he could be careful, Ben pulled out of you and crawled up your body so he was straddling your ribs. You used your arms to press your breasts together and Ben used his hand to get himself the rest of the way off.

It was a heavenly sight and not an unpleasant feeling for you as Ben came, his eyes closing in pleasure, his brow furrowing just a bit, and his mouth forming your name as his cum spurted over your chest.

“Oh fuck, I love you,” Ben said as he looked down at the result of his orgasm on your boobs. “You’re literally the best.”

“Thank you, I love you too,” you said with a smile.

Ben made his way back to between your legs and then quickly sorted out his clothes, pulling up his briefs, kicking off his trousers, taking off his sweatshirt and undershirt, and then putting his sweatshirt back on.

“Here,” he said softly as he used his undershirt to tenderly wipe clean your chest, as tender as wiping cum off of someone can get anyway. Then he balled up the shirt and tossed it in the direction of the hallway.

You smiled up at him as you pulled the straps of your dress back up, covering your chest again, “Thank you, babe.”

His response was to flip the two of you over so you were laying on him. How he did stuff like that without one of you ending up smushed, you never knew. Not being one to complain about being the little spoon though, you cuddled into him with a small hum.

“So will you tell me about your night now? Or are you still too busy obsessing over my boobs?” you asked, earning a pinch to your hip.

“Well, I’m a multitasker, you see,” Ben slid his hand from your hip to cup your breast. “I can tell you about my night and obsess over your boobs all at once.”

“Alright, prove it,” you replied, looking up at him with a glint in your eye.

And he did; he managed to tell you all about it, only his one hand giving any attention to your breast. But later, after you had migrated to the bedroom together, he asked you about your night (which had only consisted of your book). So he asked you to describe it, and suddenly you were the one having trouble staying focused as his mouth found your breasts yet again.

★★★

shall I tag for length? yes. permanent taglist: @riseetothesun @drowseoftaylor @caborhapch​  @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @stardust-galaxies @zodiacaldust  @buckyluvrs @im-an-adult-ish @sleep-i-ness​ 

[gentlemancrow]

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

[breakyeol]

Sweet, Sweet Relief

Pairing : chanyeol x reader

Summary: in which your gorgeous best friend knows just what to do to help you relax. 

Warnings: strong language, shy yeol towards the end, explicit sexual content; mild muscle kink?? i think??, dry humping for like two seconds, oral (f. receiving) aka pussy eating king back at it again, fingering, park chanyeol bc the man deserves a warning all his own 

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n; ah yes, best friends to lovers, my favorite cliche. i can’t stop writing for Chanyeol lately?? which really isn’t that out of the ordinary bc the man is literally my muse, but it seems a bit excessive at times yikes. but i also think it’s a good thing because i’m making some leeway with his prince au!!! yay!!! hopefully it won’t be too terribly long of a wait! until then, i hope these drabbles turned one shots will hold you over :) enjoy!

“You’re stressed out.”

It wasn’t a question.

You sighed, head shaking as you spared Chanyeol a glance from the corner of your eye.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.” Was his abrupt response, concerned eyes dragging over the length of your tensed features, pausing on the visible lines above your brow and at the corners of your mouth.

He was right, of course. You weren’t alright. In all honesty, you hadn’t been alright for the past month. Your latest assignment was beating the absolute shit out of you, draining your mind and body of all its viable energy and leaving you an exhausted, stressed out disaster of a person.

Unfortunately, you knew that if you admitted it out loud to Chanyeol, he would not let you spend another second staring at your stupid computer screen. But you really had to get the project done by the end of the week or you were totally and royally screwed. And if he couldn’t make you feel better, Chanyeol would end up feeling like shit and that in turn would make you feel even more like shit than you already do and it would be an endless cycle of the two of you feeling like shit and does anybody really need that right now? You were already struggling enough without having an extra pouty, sulking best friend to tend to.

“Chanyeol—“ you began, running your palms over your face as you concocted a number of things to say to get him to stop worrying. But, he didn’t give you the chance.

“I can do it again.”

Your hands fell away from where they’d begun to press against your sore eyes, a look of confusion crossing your features.

“Huh?”

He swallowed, shifting where he sat beside you on the plush sofa. You followed his every movement through narrowed eyes, your confusion building as a shade of pink dusted over his cheeks.

“I–if you want me to... I can do it again.”

It took you a second. To put the pieces together. To remember. For the shock to settle over you. It took a second, but it was with a jolt that you realized what he was talking about. Warmth blossomed beneath your skin, but you forced your expression to fall into that of gentle chiding.

“Yeol. We agreed that it was a one time thing.”

The near rejection had him crumbling in on himself, the blush coating his cheeks intensifying tenfold as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

“I know but... I don’t mind. If it helps.” He suddenly straightened his back and you damn near jumped out of your skin as one of his hands fell across your thigh. He stared into your eyes, determination and sincerity burning in his own. “I want to help.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to help like th— ah!” You yelped in surprise as he suddenly pushed you and you fell backwards onto the couch with a soft ‘oof’. “What the h– ell…” your voice gave with an embarrassing crack as Chanyeol crawled on top of you, straddling your hips and caging your head between his arms. The sudden change of position caught you completely off guard, and you found yourself grappling hopelessly to try and get your mind back on track.

“Let me help you, y/n. You know I’m good at it.” His voice had dropped an octave, softening into a near whisper. Heat pooled in your cheek, and you blinked rapidly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Sure he was good —probably one of the best you’d ever had if you were being completely and totally honest—, but accidentally fucking your best friend while you are both wasted and horny beyond rationality is completely different than committing the act while sober and capable of discerning between right and wrong. And this— this had to be wrong.

Even if it felt so deliciously right.

Quickly ridding yourself of the thought, you pressed your palms against his chest with every intention to pushing him away, only to falter at the feeling of taut, bulging muscle beneath your fingertips that you were almost certain hadn’t been there the last time you’d laid your hands on him.

“Have you been working out?”

The question was so out of place in the situation that Chanyeol couldn’t rein in his laughter before it came bubbling from his chest in several loud, contagious eruptions.

“A little…” his lips curled into that familiar, boyish grin, “wanna see?”

Asking proved pointless as he sat up before you could conjure up an intelligible response and took hold of the bottom of his hoodie. In one soft motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside without a care. You couldn’t help but gawk like a fool at the sight you were left with.

“W–wow.” You coughed out, blinking rapidly as you absorbed the expanse of the tanned, toned body on top of you. ‘A little’ had been an understatement. The last time you saw him shirtless, you can’t quite seem to recall there being such a defined six pack… or such impressive biceps… fuck.

“Wanna feel?”

His large hand was already wrapped around your wrist before the question escaped his lips, though this time he actually waited for your verbal approval before proceeding. Was it really the best idea to be feeling up your shirtless best friend after he’d just propositioned you? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Allowing him to guide your palm to his impressive pectorals, you almost moaned at the feeling of the hard, warm skin beneath your greedy fingertips. “Not bad, huh?” He asked, smug smirk twirling at the corners of his lips.

“In a word.” You offered mildly, far too absorbed in tracing the defined ridges of his abs to come up with one of your usual smart ass responses. The faintest of gasps fluttered from his lips as you caressed over a particularly sensitive area, and you didn’t miss the goosebumps that rose across his sun kissed skin— nor the pressure of something hard suddenly nudging up against your hip.

Swallowing thickly, you tipped your head up, making the deadly mistake of meeting his eyes. They were dark, darker than you’d ever seen them, and hooded, pretty eyelashes fluttering across his flushed cheeks with every lazy blink. Something dangerous yet tempting swirled within them, and you found yourself too overwhelmed to hold his intense gaze for much longer, quickly diverting your attention elsewhere.

But, just your luck, your eyes happened to land directly on the second most dangerous feature on his face— his lips. They were a dark, lovely shade of pink and deliciously swollen from the relentless assault of his teeth. The unexpected urge to tip you chin up and kiss him crashed over you with all the strength of a tsunami, heat flooding down between your thighs. Instinctively, you tried to close them, but the shape of his body prevented you from doing such. Unfortunately for your sanity, the pressure of your legs squeezing around his hips gave Chanyeol a different idea all together, a whole new way of absolutely wrecking you.

You almost— scratch that, you quite literally choked on air when he suddenly rolled his hips down, grinding against you. It was more experimental than anything else, testing the waters, seeing just how far you’d let him go. When you showed no signs of pushing him away and telling him to go fuck himself, he did it again, and this time, you really did moan out loud. Chanyeol shuddered at the sound, positively delighted that he’d been the one to pull such a delicate, sexy noise from you.

Encouraged and invigorated with newfound determination, he set a steady, confident rhythm with his hips, rolling them into yours in hard, deliberate, fluid motions.

“Let me make you feel good, y/n.”

A shiver wracked your body, and you found yourself utterly helpless against the deep rasping bass of (what you liked to identify as) his sex voice. It was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, with a deliberate yet natural hoarseness that shot straight to your core. And no being on earth was immune to it, including you.

“Okay. Fuck, okay,” you caved, breathing heavy and uneven just from that juvenile dry humping alone, “but this is seriously the last time, Chanyeol. We can’t keep doing shit like t–this.”

A triumphant grin twisted onto his rose petal lips, “that’s alright. Just this once is all I need.”

Contrarily, you feared this little indiscretion would make you crave him all the more.

You sighed softly as his head fell into the juncture of your neck, painting hot, open mouthed kisses across the vulnerable skin. “No marks.” You huffed lightly when he resorted to sucking and nipping, and you could feel the pout that downturned the corners of his lips, but he made no objections nonetheless. A trembling breath flooded out of your chest as he descended your body, pushing up the loose fabric of your t-shirt to press searing kisses across your belly, all the way down to the elastic of your leggings. He glanced up at you, and somehow the angle made him look more attractive than he already was.

“Don’t be nervous.”

You shot him a lopsided grin, “who’s nervous?”

He didn’t look convinced, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s completely alright, just tell me and I’ll—”

“Don’t stop.” Chanyeol’s eyes widened at the sudden interruption, staring up at you with all the excitement and hope of a puppy getting a treat dangled in front of his nose. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you allowed your thighs to relax, falling open before him. “Please… don’t stop.”

He literally whined, though it quickly pitched into a rough, heavy groan somewhere deep in his chest. Long fingers slipped beneath the tight elastic of your leggings, making quick work of tugging them down the length of your legs. The air was cold against your bare skin, prickling goosebumps shooting up across your freshly shaved and lotion lathed legs (you silently thanked yourself for making yesterday one of your monthly self care days). The chill of the air was warded away by the warm press of his hands against the flesh of your thighs, grip tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck.” You hissed as he feathered his mouth over your clothed pussy, the heat of his breath rippling through your core in tiny shockwaves. Something dangerous glinted in his hooded eyes, and you let out a shaky moan when he flicked his tongue experimentally. The thin grey cotton darkened with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and he moaned quietly when your faint flavor hit his taste buds.

“Baby,” he purred softly, rolling his thumb over your clit and prodding the tip of his tongue where he estimated your entrance was. Your head tipped back against the cushion, mouth opening in a silent gasp. One of your hands reached down to weave through his thick black locks, while the other grabbed hold of the armrest behind your head. “Can I take them off?”

“Yes.” You breathed, removing your hand from his hair to brace it against the couch as you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull the black cotton down your legs. He tossed them aside haphazardly, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of your bare core, wet and exposed in front of him. The first time you’d done this, it had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to really appreciate you. So, he’d take his time now. Really take his time.

“You’re so pretty.”

Warmth blossomed beneath your cheeks and you scoffed softly, trying your best to act like the compliment hadn’t made your heart flutter. He dragged his index slowly through your arousal, mouth falling open with a breath of amazement as he admired the glistening wetness that coated it. Chills rolled down your spine, an almost embarrassingly desperate whine resonating in your throat.

“Chan.” The urgency in your voice made him smile, and he looked up at you with eyes sparkling with mischief. You could only watch helplessly as he dragged his finger away from you, and slipped it between his lips, humming in delight.

Fuck. He was definitely trying to kill you.

Luckily for you, that one little taste proved to not be anywhere near enough for his insatiable appetite and, without warning, he pressed his face in close and began lapping eagerly at your pussy. Your mouth gaped, hips bucking up uncontrollably as his nose ground into your clit, his hot tongue licking hungrily at your entrance. Pleasure ignited in your veins like a wildfire, explosive and untamable and all consuming. It stretched through every part of your body, setting your skin ablaze in the wake of his touch.

“Oh my god, Chan—” he groaned against you in response, hooded eyes fluttering blissfully as he lost himself in the taste of your cunt. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, fierce and unrelenting, the sound of it wet and messy. You were moaning his name, thigh tightening spastically around his head, but his strong, calloused hands kept them apart, forcing them open so he could have his way. You almost lost it completely when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking.

Strangely enough, you found that without the intoxication of alcohol in your system, everything he did had that much of a more intense effect on you. It was like every touch, every sensation was amplified by your mere sobriety; the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the eagerness of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers. You felt all of it, every one of your senses going into overdrive.

And god it was so much. And yet, you still wanted more.

“Y– your fingers, Chan, your fingers, please—” you panted, brows knitting as you felt that familiar tightening in your gut. He quickly obeyed, sinking his long middle finger inside of you with such ease you almost felt embarrassed. But there was no room for such emotions when you were so enthralled in the hot rush of pleasure bursting like the most brilliant of firecrackers in your veins.

A second finger was swift to join the first, stretching you out so deliciously that your toes curled. With his free hand, he tugged at your knee, bringing it up to rest over his shoulder. The new angle forced your hips off of the plush cushion below, his skilled fingers burying themselves deeper, pillowy lips sucking harder. It was over the second his digits curled, stroking up against that perfect little spot that had white hot electricity crackling in your blood.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. It was hot and overwhelming, the persistent, eager pressure of his mouth and hands drawing it out as long as it could possibly go. He dragged it out until you were limp and trembling beneath him, moaning and whining out broken fragments of his name, too lost in the bliss inducing thralls of your high to feel even the slightest hint of shame.

His ministrations seemed to grow even fiercer through your orgasm, his ravenous moans increasing in volume right alongside yours. He only pulled away when he knew you wouldn’t be able to withstand anymore, resorting to pressing soothing kisses and murmuring breathless praises against the soft, trembling skin of your thighs.

“Fuck you, Chanyeol.” You laughed breathlessly, tossing an arm over your eyes.

“Fuck me? Fuck you, I almost busted in my pants when you came. That was so fucking hot.” He groaned, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he crawled back on top of you, caging your head between his arms. You chuckled, warmth spreading through your cheeks. A sweet smile upturned the corners of his mouth. “Did it help?”

The question was less than a breath against your lips, so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it. You swallowed, gaze momentarily dropping to his mouth before returning to his eyes, only to find that they’d honed in on your lips.

“It helped. You helped.”

He inhaled shakily, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his bottom lip. “Can I help a little more?” He asked, and you felt his bangs feather over your forehead as his head lowered. Hot breath rushed over your mouth. Instead of answering, you reached up and cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss. It was short, shy, sweet. Such a stark contrast to the fierce hunger he’d displayed going down on you not two minutes ago that you couldn’t help the giggles of amusement that came bubbling from your chest. He broke away from you with a bashful smile, gently resting his forehead against yours.

“You suck.” He mumbled, pouting childishly.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that’s done any sucking.” You teased.

“Who am I to argue with the facts?” He sighed dramatically, feigning defeat.

You laughed loudly, an obnoxious cackle that had to be one of the most unattractive sounds you’d ever made, but it was abruptly cut off when he reattached his mouth to yours. You hummed contently, carding your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he painted the inside of your mouth with it. Warmth spread through your chest, your heart picking up speed as you melted into his kiss, melted into the warmth that the presence of his body provided you with.

“I lied.”

Your eyes blinked open, surprised by the sudden admission. “Huh?”

The look on his face stirred to life a strange, but vaguely familiar emotion in the depth of your chest. A crimson blush darkened his cheeks and his gaze shied away from yours. For a moment, you were reminded of the little, goofy looking boy that shyly handed you a heart shaped box of caramel chocolates on Valentine’s Day all the way back when you were thirteen. He had the same big sweet eyes, the same crimson cheeks, the same large pink tipped ears.

“I said that just this once is enough...” he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing as he nibbled nervously on the corner of his lip, “but it isn’t. It isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your lip. “I want you. I- I want to be more to you— to be more to you than just a friend.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, offering him a sly smirk. “Are you… confessing to me, Park Chanyeol?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He smiled down at you bashfully. “If you say yes.”

“Hmm…” you squinted your eyes and pursed your lips as if you needed to think it over. But you had a feeling that a moment like this was long past due, so you resisted the urge to draw it out and torture him, opting to give him a more straight forward answer to put his racing heart at ease. “Yes.”

“Thank god.” He groaned happily, smooshing your face between his massive palms and tugging you into a deep, but playful kiss that made your skin tingle. You giggled noisily against his lips, draping your arms over his neck to keep him close. “Does this mean I get to eat you out like that whenever I want?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you snickered as he pumped his fist, hissing out an eager ‘yes’. You grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his attention back to you. “And next time...” you tipped your head up to nip at the sensitive lobe of his ear, letting a downright wicked grin curl across your lips, “I’ll gladly return to favor.”

[rreyie]

𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧- 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: niccolo calls you down to the kitchen to ask you to sample a new kind of meat. i think you know where this is going.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut! oral sex (both receiving), fem! reader, unedited work, kinda short lmao

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/nsfw

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: niccolo, reader insert

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: there’s literally no stories with niccolo on here and that upsets me.... well i am now here to turn that around 😏 i was debating if instead of the reader i would put sasha but i think i’m better at character x reader than character x character

——————————————————————————

you entered the spacious kitchen niccolo owned, as the scent of fresh bread wafted around the room. the scent was inhaled through your nose, mouth watering as you could practically taste it.

niccolo was leaning against the counter, wavy blonde hair parted in the middle as his apron was tied unusually tightly around him. flour was dusted along the red apron, creating small white patches on the fabric.

“what are you doing up at this hour?” you asked. “an even better question, why do you want me down here at 11:30 at night?” you referred to the note that he had left on your bed, asking you to report to the kitchen to taste something he had made.

“well if you’re here then you already know”, he responded. his hazel eyes nervously looked around the room as he desperately tried to think of something to say without being awkward. “i was wondering if you could help me taste a special kind of meat i cooked up.” he gulped.

your eyes lit up. “really? then why don’t you want anyone else down here tonight? why only me?”

niccolos cheeks turned a bit red. “because this meat is reserved for you.”

what the fuck does he mean, meat only reserved for me? you ask yourself.

well, your question was answered as soon as you noticed a bump form in the area between niccolos legs, covered by the fabric. his print showed, eager for attention.

your face turns red like a ripe tomato. you also notice that his arms and legs were bare, indicating that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath that apron.

“w-why aren’t you wearing anything underneath that?” you ask him.

“well, i asked you to taste some meat, didn’t i?” he asked. he walks over to you, and cups your cheek. his print presses against your stomach, feeling the bulge harden upon contact.

he presses his lips against yours, swirling his tongue around your mouth, admiring the pleasant taste that was on your lips. you kiss him back, feeling his lips that were softer than butter itself.

“ready to be my taste tester, y/n?”

“i’d love to.”

niccolo fiddled with the straps that tied arond his wast and neck, the apron promptly falling to his knees.

your eyes immediately fall upon what’s in between his legs. he’s already hard, the tip a flushed pink and his shaft a pale peach color. niccolo smirks as he watches you observe his dick.

“like what you see?” he asks as he pulls you closer to him again. you nod, and niccolo grabs your chin.

“good, now start tasting.”

he shoves you downwards, falling on your knees as he looks down on you expectantly.

your hand moves to his cock, and wraps around it as you feel the stiff and soft flesh that your hand is currently enveloping. you had no idea how niccolo’s dick was that soft.

another thing you began to question was how you were going to fit his fat cock in your mouth. he had to be at least 8 inches, with some pretty outstanding girth.

you move your hand up and down loosely as you feel niccolo twitch, and let out a groan.

you create a bit of saliva in your mouth and spit on his cock, and use both hands to rub it up and down his shaft so your hands could glide a bit easier.

after jerking him for a bit of time, a little bit of pre cum begins to form at his tip that has went from pink to red. you press your thumb over his tip and give it a gentle rub. a small gasp escapes from his throat as you rub his tip a few more times.

eventually, you guide his swollen cock into your mouth, giving it a few kitten licks on the way in. you begin to bob your head, feeling his shaft against the slick walls of your mouth.

“h-holy shit...” niccolo stammers. “just like that, please... oh my god...”

you give him a grin as you look up at him with doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as you possibly can.

as niccolo looked back into your eyes, he couldn’t help but buck his sturdy hips, shoving his cock further into the back of your throat. you gag, unprepared for that amount of impact.

“shit, sorry”, he says as you cough. “did that hurt?”

“no, i’m fine”, you say. “actually, it’s fine if you do that, it’s... kind of hot. face fuck me if you want to-“

niccolo doesn’t need another word. he thrusts his hips into your mouth, earning a muffled moan from you. he fills your poor mouth up to the brim, fat cock taking up every inch of space in your mouth. the tip of him repeatedly hits the back of your throat as your toes curl.

“you feel... so- good...” he stutters, as he continues to face fuck you mercilessly, at this point not caring if he’s making you gag or choke on him. “y-you’re gonna make me cum...”

you would respond, but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t dare pull away from him as he’s so close. you only hum in response, the hum sounding a bit more like a moan. this pushes him further to the edge as adrenaline rushes through his veins.

his thrusts turn sloppy as he come closer to the end, numerous grunts coming from his mouth.

“ah- oh my go- ngh! i’m gonna- ahh...” he groans raspily as he cries your name one last time before releasing his load into your mouth. your mouth is now filled with both niccolos cock and his thick cum.

he pulls out, dick now coated in a mixture of saliva and his own cum. no matter how hard you try, you just couldn’t swallow it all down. a bit of cum spills out of your mouth as you force it down your throat.

niccolos breath softens as he looks you in the eyes.

“you’re a natural, eh?” he asks you.

“if that’s what you want to call it”, you reply.

he chuckled. “guess i should return the favor now, i’m just not sure if i’m as good as you.”

(breaking news! he’s wrong. very, very wrong.)

“that... would be nice.”

he lifts you up onto the counter as the cold surface is felt on your ass. niccolo is quick to pull down your pants, afterwards, the white blouse that you’re wearing is quickly discarded onto the floor. at this point, you’re clad in only your bra and panties.

niccolo pushes your legs apart, and pushes your panties, soaked in your arousal, aside. his eyes widen as he stares at your womanhood.

“you’re wet...” he says. “did i really make you that turned on?”

you nod. he makes quick work of his tongue as he places it in between your slick folds, eventuallly sliding it in your hole.

“ni-niccolo!” you gasp. he looks up at you with his hazel orbs, blonde hair all in his face. he gives you a smug smile, and speeds up his pace.

his tongue approaches your clit and gives it a little flick or two, and circles his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. your legs buckle from the pleasure.

his tongue dives into your folds again and licks every fold you have, savoring the taste you provide him. eventually, his tongue once again plunged into your hole, sliding in and out repeatedly.

you tug his blonde locks as he goes in deeper and deeper, and the burn in your stomach turns into a fire. your legs twitch uncontrollably as you feel yourself nearing your end.

you whine as you feel the fire in your stomach take over your entire body, the sensation taking over you as you come on niccolos face. a sting of moans escapes from your mouth, crying out for niccolo to keep going and to help you through the orgasm. you feel your juices sliding down your pussy as niccolo laps them up like a kitten.

“you tasted wonderful”, he said. leaning against you on the cold granite counter, he kisses you again so you can taste yourself on his tongue. something pokes at your thigh, and as you look down, niccolo is already hard again.

“dammit”, he scoffs. “got a boner again. up for round two?”

giggling, you get on your knees once again and help him take care of his little problem.

[shyneanon]

There is only one bed with red

I bet you thought I was never gonna respond to this one, huh, anon? Nope! I just had to rewrite it like five million times before I felt like it was actually not terrible. lol

Hope you enjoy this even though it’s been foreeeeeever.

---

“Well. Lookit that.”

You stared at the single available bed in the single available room, pretty immaculately kept.

“There’s only one bed,” said Red, leaning against the wall. “How unfortunate.”

You stared at it for a while, then looked back at him. He was flashing his gold tooth at you in a smug grin.

Nope.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I can sleep on the floor.”

His smile vanished.

“Hey,” he said, “hold on, sweetheart. I c’n sleep on the floor.”

Actually kind of nice of him to offer, but as much as he annoyed you… no. “It’s cool, I can do it.”

“Nah, it’s gonna make me feel like trash if I letcha sleep on the floor.”

“Well, ditto.”

He grinned. “Ooh, I gotta solution. How ‘bout we both sleep on the floor?”

You held in a laugh, trying your best to give him a deadpan look. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh….

He waggled his brows at you.

And you let out a snort.

You started to set your things down and move onto the floor but Red shoved you towards the bed. “No,” he said, “I don’ wanna feel like an asshole.”

“You are an asshole,” you said.

“Sure but I don’ wanna feel like one…!”

“OK,” you said, “fine.” Whatever, his loss. You climbed into the bed and got under the covers, and you turned a bit as Red lay down on the floor.

… Dammit.

You sighed. I’m going to regret this.

“Red,” you said.

He turned with an oddly soft smile. “Yeah, beautiful?”

Your face turned warm. His nicknames are more effective than they should be. “Just get in the stupid bed.”

“Oh?” A brow rose, and the soft smile was gone. “Feeling bonely?”

“Don’t,” you said, moving over. “You just look so pathetic on the floor, I can’t do it.”

“Sure, sure.” He moved the covers aside and slid under them with you. “You tell yerself that.”

“I will shove you back onto the floor, Red.”

He shut his mouth (figuratively speaking), and you shut your eyes. He was surprisingly warm for a skeleton, perhaps due to wearing a jacket all day. Since he didn’t have the jacket on, though, you were far more aware of the fact that he was literally just… bone. You could feel his actual spine… It was kind of weird, but not weird enough to keep you up. You were just glad he wasn’t getting handsy. Though the truth was that him getting touchy hadn’t been your main concern. In reality, you tried to avoid having to share a bed with anyone. There was a, um, bad habit of yours that people had informed you of.

But hopefully you wouldn’t do anything crazy tonight.

---

Red was awoken by the feeling of something lying across his whole body.

What the hell?

He was on his side, and he attempted to push it off, but it didn’t budge. Groggy and annoyed, he awkwardly twisted and wriggled until he was on his back and could see what the fuck it was….

It was you.

He squinted, thinking he might be insane, but yeah. It was you. You were lying on top of him. A bit awkwardly, one of your legs was pointing in the direction of your side of the bed, but your head was where the crook of his neck would be, and you were breathing softly.

Red’s face lit on fire instantly.

“Sweetheart?” he mumbled, even though he was pretty sure you couldn’t hear him. When had this happened? Had it happened in your sleep? Had you done this on purpose?

You sighed in your sleep.

Oh… oh my God.

What if she likes me?

Had you instinctively cuddled up to him in your sleep because you… liked him? Or… maybe you liked his smell, or the way lying on him felt… Red was a bit embarrassed to find that he felt giddy, but the giddiness overrode the embarrassment.

“Sweetheart,” he repeated softly, gently wrapping his arms around you. You snuggled closer and he felt his soul start to hum.

We’re… so close….

She’s so cute when she’s asleep….

“You are the most adorable thing,” he said. He knew you couldn’t hear. That was the nice part; he could say whatever he wanted. He started to readjust your stray leg with his own, and his face warmed up even more when you curled your leg around his. He let out a small sound of surprise.

“Baby, you’re uncooperative…. Hah….”

Not that he, uh, minded… having your legs like this….

“Aren’t you just the sweetest,” he purred, pulling you closer. His soul was picking up. While you were asleep he felt no need to maintain his tough guy persona, so he cooed. “Yer cute as hell.”

He nuzzled you, holding you close.

He never wanted to let go….

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, lifting one finger and stroking your cheek. “I’ll keep you safe.” He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling washing over his soul while the two of you were so near each other. “Jus’ stay right here… with me, yeah?”

One hand tangled in your hair and he sighed. It was so soft…. You moved closer to him, making a soft hum, and Red’s grin widened, his soul melting into a puddle.

This was the best night of his life.

—

When your mind started to barely lift out of its unconscious state, the first thing you noticed was that it did not feel like you were lying on the mattress.

The second thing you noticed was that a pair of arms were around you. What the… Red? Why was he…

Oh. Oh no.

I climbed on him in my sleep, didn’t I?

It was a weird habit you’d never would’ve known about were it not for the unlucky victims who had told you about it. You had never woken up on top of someone before— you always woke up next to the person in the morning, in the same spot where you’d fallen asleep, and then they would tell you about how they’d woken up in the dead of night to find your entire body lying on top of them. It also apparently took a lot of effort to push you off, especially since attempts would usually result in you immediately trying to climb back onto them.

Red, uh, didn’t seem to be making any attempts to push you off, though.

“Hah, sweetie… You look so stupid when yer asleep….”

Did he know you were awake? Judging from his low volume, you were pretty sure that no, he didn’t.

His finger wiped the side of your mouth and then immediately withdrew, and you heard him laughing as quietly as possible. Yep, he was trying not to wake you up.

“Gross!” he whispered, and you heard the sound of his hand brushing against the fabric of, presumably, his clothes. “You drool in your sleep!”

More quiet laughter. If you blushed visibly you’d give yourself away, so you just buried your face in his collarbone. Embarrassing.

“... Ah… doll….”

A hand was gently placed on your back.

“I wish we could do this all the time,” he said softly. If he thought you were asleep he wasn’t saying this to flirt with you.

He meant it, then?

“Why’ve you gotta be so damn adorable, huh? M… My soul’s going crazy over here….”

A hand ran through your hair. He was being unusually gentle….

“Then again, that happens a lot when I’m with you.”

Your face got hotter; thank goodness he couldn’t see it from this angle.

His teeth pressed against your forehead. A kiss?

“I wish… I had the guts tah tell ya how I feel.”

Huh? Not… not like… romantically, right?

“You make me feel amazing. Like… really amazing, I… I dunno how t’put it in words cuz I’m real bad with words. S’why I can’ bring myself to tell you, I wanna tell you but every time I open my goddamn mouth all I say is somethin’ suggestive.”

Some silence. Should you tell him that you were awake? You were basically eavesdropping right now.

But at the same time…

“‘N, admittedly… I wish I was good fer you. Which I’m not, I’m… I’m fuckin’ me.”

Why did your heart suddenly ache?

“I’m lazy, I’m sleazy, I dress stupid, I act stupid, I can’t communicate like an adult to save my damn life…. An’ I… I’ve done a lotta bad things. Y… ya should get with some sweet guy who’s responsible ‘n shit.” He muttered: “Lookit me, fuckin’ swearing while I’m tryna talk about my feeli— Fantastic, I did it twice.”

It took all the effort you had to not giggle.

“I wish I was good for you. Ah, sweetie, I’d… I’d take such good care of you, I really would. Or, I’d try. Tryin’ is… really all I could do, t’be honest.”

Trying is all anyone can do.

“... Too bad I suck, yeah?”

Your heart ached again. Red didn’t suck, he was a good guy…. It was probably best to tell him that you were awake before he spilled any more personal information.

“You don’t suck,” you mumbled, turning your head.

“‘M sorry, dollface, did I wake you up with my rambling? I’ll be quiet.”

“No, I’ve been awake for a while.”

His whole body froze up.

“... Ya have?”

“Yeah.”

“H… How much of what I was just saying did you—“

“All of it.”

There was a long, awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I should’ve said something—“

“Fuck,” he said, and you lifted your head. His eye sockets were squeezed shut.

“No, Red, it’s OK—“

“No it’s not, I’ve been makin’ a sappy ass outta myself an’ now I prob’ly made you feel guilty—“

“You didn’t make me feel guilty—“

“Jus’ please don’t say that we should go on a date cuz I know you’re only doing it to make me feel better ‘bout myself—“

“Shut up, Red.”

His eye sockets opened and he looked down at you. You could see the two red lights standing out in the darkness. “... Huh?”

“Stop wallowing in self-hatred and listen to me.”

He said nothing. You would take that as cooperation.

OK, he was listening. So, uh… what should you say?

You actually didn’t know.

So you just kissed him.

Initially he just froze up, but after a moment his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close, kissing back. W… Wow, this feels really good…. You moved into a better position and felt your hair spill down onto him.

“Sorry,” you said as the kiss parted.

“Sorry?” Red cupped the back of your head and gave you a second fervent kiss. “What the hell for? Ya just kissed me.”

“My hair is kinda touching you.”

“Oh no,” he said in monotone, “how awful. Kiss ruined.”

You snickered and leaned down to press your forehead against his. He looked up at you with fuzzy eyelights.

“I don’ deserve your love,” he said quietly. You smiled back.

“Nobody deserves love, Sans. That’s why it’s so special when someone loves us anyway.”

“You deserve love,” he said, “from somebody better than me.”

“That’s awfully vague.” You kissed his cheek. “And besides, I don’t want love from this person you call ‘somebody better than me.’”

He smiled.

“I want love from you.”

“Hah,” he said, and you saw his eyelights change… They were like hearts now. “Sweetheart, trust me, you already have all my love.”

Your face heated up. “That’s really romantic,” you told him.

“... It is?”

A giggle escaped you. “Yes, Sans.”

You kissed his nasal ridge.

“So?” you said with a smile. “You gonna ask me out or not?”

His eyelights got fuzzy again. “Ya think maybe we could go out sometime, beautiful?”

After kissing his cheek, you said, “I’d love that.”

“So, uh…” He looked at the way you two were positioned. “You think… we could do this more?”

“Absolutely.”

You lay your head down on his ribcage.

“We should fall back asleep,” you told him.

“Sure thing, angel.”

Drifting off took no time at all.

[kanerallels]

"There is no unspoken thing between us."

"Well, that's a Catch-22. Because if you said there was, it would be spoken, and then you'd be a liar. So by saying there isn't, you're telling the truth, and admitting there is."

Marvel quote—and you know which couple this is for 😉

Oh, you KNOW I do!!!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 3,559

Warnings/Tags: Rated G (for the fetching green vest Kanan's wearing)

Read on AO3!

Having deep cover operatives in the Empire was an important part of running a spy network. They gave Kanan some of his best information and helped him sneak the objects of the Empire’s rage right out from under the ISB’s nose more often than not.

But it could be a little inconvenient when he needed to pick up data from them. Because it almost inevitably involved him getting into some kind of ridiculous disguise and sneaking into some place the Empire didn’t want him in.

Case in point, he thought wryly, smoothing down the front of the fancy vest he was wearing over his dress shirt. “How do I look?” he asked, his voice quiet enough that none of the guests around him could hear.

“Ridiculous as always,” Kasmir’s voice came from the earpiece he wore, and Kanan rolled his eyes. The rest of the Yellow Submarine’s crew had demanded that he wear it, partially because they were bored and partially because Kasmir claimed Kanan had a habit of not giving them proper updates about what was going on. So they’d hacked the security cameras, and Kanan was set up with an earpiece. “Otherwise you’re fine. Remind me what your plan is again?”

Claiming a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, Kanan muttered, “Blend in while I wait for our contact to drop off the intel at the dead drop, then go there as soon as I get the signal. After that I get the kriff out of here as soon as possible.”

As he took a drink of the bubbly drink, Ezra said, “Sounds boring. Actually, this whole party looks boring. Just a bunch of grown ups in fancy clothing drinking alcohol and sucking up to each other.”

“Welcome to adult parties for the rich and tyrannical,” Kasmir told him, and Kanan had to stifle a grin. “They all suck.”

Unfortunately, Kanan couldn’t disagree. The Empire’s parties mainly consisted of flaunting their fabulousness to everyone else, but really just came off as self-absorbed. Luckily for him, this particular party had been incredibly easy to sneak into.

Taking another sip from the champagne glass, Kanan swept a glance around the room again-- and spotted his contact. The light-haired man, clad in a dark dress uniform, swept out of a door, his steps brisk and business-like as he passed by. He didn't give Kanan a backwards glance, but Kanan could tell he knew he was there.

“Alright, I'm on the move,” he said softly.

“About time,” Kasmir complained. “This is incredibly boring.”

Stepping through the doorway his contact had come out of, Kanan pointed out, “You're the ones who wanted to listen in.”

“Yeah, but I prefer blaming you,” the Kalleran said as Kanan moved into the room. It was some kind of sitting room, with a few armchairs here and there, and a small table in one corner.

Tuning out Kasmir, who was continuing to grumble, Kanan began searching the room. The table turned up nothing, so he moved to one of the armchairs. Dropping into it, he slid his hands down the side and into the cracks. A grin spread across his face as one hand encountered a slim rectangular shape. Bingo.

Pulling the datacard out, Kanan slipped it into the pocket of his vest. Cutting off Kasmir, he said, “I've got the intel. On my way out.”

He slipped out of the sitting room again, and a quick glance around the room made it clear that he’d been neither missed nor spotted. Time to get out of here, he thought.

Making a beeline for the door, Kanan paused to swipe a mini jogan cream cake from a waiter. He popped it in his mouth-- and nearly choked at the sound of a familiar laugh. A far too familiar laugh.

Spinning around, Kanan searched the crowd behind him. No way. No kriffing way. But even as he thought it, his gaze landed on where a handful of people were dancing to the elegant music in the background. And his eyes were drawn to a green-skinned Twi’lek woman, dancing with an Imperial officer and wearing a smile he knew had to be fake.

Some kind of makeup obscured the markings on Hera’s lekku, and she was a ways away from Kanan, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Especially that voice, which he could hear speaking in her native Ryl accent even from that distance. Who knew she had an accent? He mused.

“KANAN!!”

Kanan nearly jumped when he heard Kasmir shout his name in his earpiece. “Kriffing-- don’t do that,” he hissed, turning away from the crowd so no one would see him moving his lips.

“What are you hesitating for? It’s time to get out of there,” Kasmir urged. “We’re not even supposed to be here, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kanan said. “I just, uh, might not be back right away.”

“What? Why not-- oooh. Mini kid, check the cams.”

“On it!” Ezra chirped in the background.

Ignoring them, Kanan turned back to the crowd, scanning until he spotted Hera again, still dancing with the same Imp, her movements graceful. What is she doing here? If someone spots her-- okay, calm down, Kanan. She can take care of herself, and you’re not technically responsible for watching her back.

No matter how much you wished you were, whispered some part of him, the part of him that occasionally told him to please forget all of the spy stuff and talk to Hera.

In his ear, there was a gasp. “I KNEW IT. Hera’s here, guys!!!” Ezra’s voice was unreasonably excited as he spoke. “What is she doing here? Kanan, does she know you’re here? Are you gonna talk to her? What do you think she’ll--”

“Kasmir,” Kanan said, cutting off his apprentice, “I’m going off coms. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“You’re doing WHAT? Wait, kid, don’t you dare--”

Kasmir's voice was abruptly cut off as Kanan plucked his earpiece out and stuck it in his pocket. He had no doubt he'd be getting a good chewing out over this later from Kasmir. But Kanan also had a feeling it would be worth it.

He headed toward the dancers, weaving through the crowd and keeping his gaze locked on Hera. As he drew closer, he felt his heartbeat pick up slightly.

Hera was always beautiful, there was no denying that. When Kanan had first met her, he'd been literally incapable of speech standing across from her. And he had a feeling he was going to have a very similar problem now.

She wore a dark red dress, the short sleeves made of a dark gauzy fabric. Silver lace patterns covered the whole thing, shimmering in the light with Hera's every movement. It was mesmerizing.

Kanan suddenly realized he was staring. Kriff. Alright, try and focus, Jarrus.

Slipping past a few more guests, he stepped out of the crowd and onto the dance floor just as Hera and her partner moved up near him. “May I cut in?” he asked.

The Imperial officer dancing with Hera looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at Kanan changed his mind quickly. He stepped back, and Kanan moved forward smoothly, sweeping Hera back into the dance.

Hera’s gaze flicked up to him, a demure smile crossing her face-- and Kanan saw the moment when she realized it was him and not some Imperial. “Wha-- Kanan?”

~ ~ ~

As Hera gaped at him in shock, she saw a grin crossing Kanan’s face. “I’d bet this is the last place you expected to see me,” he said, his deep voice low and remarkably self satisfied.

“You could say that,” Hera agreed, recovering quickly.

It hadn’t been too difficult to slip into the party. All Hera had had to do was bat her eyelashes a few times and the Imps were basically falling over themselves to let her in. While it was useful, it did also get on her nerves a little, even if she was used to the way most people looked at her species these days.

Kanan, on the other hand, didn’t exactly have the same qualifications. Frowning, she asked, “How did you get in here?”

“Does it matter?” Kanan kept his voice low as they kept dancing, and Hera had to admit-- he was a good dancer, better than she would have expected.

He was also dressed better than she would have expected-- a crisp olive green dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up, under an emerald green vest with a high collar, trousers of the same olive green, and brown boots. His hair was back in it’s usual ponytail, and he wore a slight grin.

He looked good-- which Hera would never give him the satisfaction of admitting. She would only admit to herself how her heartbeat sped up slightly at his proximity, at the feeling of his hand resting on her waist.

Taking a quick breath, she said, “Probably not. Although I do wonder what you’re doing here, I have to admit.”

“Free hors d’oeuvres,” Kanan said breezily. “Nothing tastes better than expensive Imperial wine, especially when you’re not supposed to drink it. How about you? I have a feeling you’re not here for the canapes, or whatever they’re serving.”

“Not exactly,” Hera said. “But I’m not sure talking to you about it is the best idea. After all, you’ve made it very clear you’re not interested.”

“Really? That’s what you think? I thought you knew that wasn’t true at all.”

Giving him a look, Hera said, “In the cause.”

“Oh, that.” Kanan made a face. “I liked what I was talking about better.”

“I’m sure you did.”

A slight smile curved Kanan’s mouth, and he studied her for a few seconds as they danced. “When are we going to do something about this unspoken thing we have going on?”

“What?” Hera blinked, surprised that he’d actually said something. “No-- there’s no unspoken thing between us.”

Shrugging, Kanan deftly spun her out as he said, “Well, that’s a Catch-22, because if you said there was, it would be spoken and you’d be a liar. So by saying there isn’t--” he pulled her back in, this time closer than she had been. Hera felt her heartbeat pick up again at the sheer closeness of him.

“--you’re telling the truth and admitting there is,” Kanan finished. His gaze caught hers, and he studied her for a moment with those teal eyes of his. Hera saw his eyes drop to her lips, and caught her breath, wondering for a moment what he would do, and how she would react to it.

Focus, Hera, she told herself sternly. You need to finish up here and get back to the crew. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t really have time for your flirting, dear. I have a mission to finish, sooner rather than later.”

“What’s your rush?” Kanan asked lightly.

“Well, let’s just say I have a new crew member, and I’d prefer to get back before she destroys the ship,” Hera said wryly. “She’s a little… temperamental.”

“Sounds like fun,” Kanan said. “Alright, how can I help?”

Giving Kanan an unimpressed look, Hera said, “We just had this conversation. You don’t want anything to do with the cause.”

“You know me so well,” Kanan said, smirking. “But I’m not doing this for the cause. Trust me.”

The pointed intonation at the end of his sentence didn’t really surprise Hera. However, that wasn’t exactly about to change her answer. “That’s not terribly reassuring,” she said.

“Hey, you know I’m capable,” Kanan pointed out. “And you don’t have to trust me here. But I’m willing to help.

“Alright-- what are you asking in return?” Hera asked.

To her surprise, a stung look flashed across Kanan’s face. “Nothing. I’m not always looking for some kind of payout, you know.”

Kriff. Hera grimaced, well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said, coming to a stop on the dance floor and making sure she had Kanan’s attention. “That was stupid of me. You’re right, and I should have seen it. I know you better than that.”

And she did, strange though it seemed.

“Thanks,” Kanan said quietly, his voice serious for once. He paused, then said, “Now where are we going?”

Hera paused, darting a glance around the room. Luckily, the owner of the house was distracted at the bar. “This way,” she told him, grabbing him by the hand. She pulled him off the dance floor and through the crowd, heading for a door on the far side of the room. Kanan followed her willingly, and together they slipped through the door in question.

The door led them into a dark hallway, and Hera led the way forward, Kanan on her heels. “Let’s hope we don’t run into any other party-goers,” she muttered. “This could be a potential awkward situation.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Kanan suggested, and Hera let out a sigh.

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not unless I have to. What’s the plan here?”

“I’m trying to break into the main office,” Hera told him. “It should be a little ways away from here. All you need to do is watch my back. Oh, and come up with a good excuse if we’re caught.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Kanan said easily. “Just lead the way, Captain Hera.”

They didn’t have far to go before they reached the door Hera had been looking for, and stepped inside. The office was large and elaborate, with wood panelling and an extremely expensive vase on the desk.

Moving behind the desk, Hera booted up the console and pulled up her skirt to reveal the holster strapped to her leg, holding her blaster and a datacard to download the intel she needed. Pulling out the datacard, she glanced at Kanan, fully expecting him to be watching her.

To her surprise, he had his gaze fixed on the door, and was rather steadfastly not looking at her. Maybe he’s got a bit of chivalry left after all, Hera mused. Who would have thought?

She let her skirt drop and inserted the datacard into the console, tapping at the screen to find the information she needed. “This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes,” she told Kanan.

Glancing back at Hera, Kanan said, “Well, that’s good. This way, we might have time for something else. Maybe a little more dancing, that kind of thing.”

“What part of ‘I need to get back to my ship before a teenage Mandalorian tears it to pieces’ did you not understand?” Hera shot back.

“Oh, come on,” Kanan said with a sigh. “Seriously, though-- when was the last time you did anything for yourself instead of your cause? You deserve a night off.”

“And it just happens to be with you?” Hera said, feeling a smile twitch across her lips in spite of herself.

Kanan shrugged nonchalantly, a gleam in his eye. “It’s an added bonus.”

“Hmm.” For a moment, Hera let herself think about what it would be like to just spend the rest of the night out. Dancing, food, maybe a little flirting. It sounded fun. Like something she might have done in a different world, if she hadn’t been fighting the Empire, and she’d met Kanan under different circumstances. “That sounds… nice. Fun, even.”

“Can’t let the Empire stop you from having fun,” Kanan pointed out, leaning against the desk as he caught her gaze. “I’ll buy you a drink. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself--”

Then Hera saw him freeze, his eyes going wide. “What is--” she started, and the door hissed open.

“Wha-- what are you doing in here?” demanded a brusque Imperial voice, and the owner of the house stalked into view. Hera saw a “well, kriff” expression flash across Kanan’s face.

“Wait-- are you--” the owner started. Moving fast, Kanan grabbed the vase on the desk, spun around and smashed it over the man’s head.

As the Imp crumpled to the ground, Kanan turned to Hera. “Time to go,” he said.

“Definitely,” Hera said as the console let out a beep. “I have what I need anyways.” Pulling out the datacard, she slipped it back into her holster, and she and Kanan made for the door.

They hadn’t gotten far before an alarm started going off. “Looks like we’ve been spotted,” Kanan muttered, his brows furrowing.

“Do you have a ride out of here?” Hera asked.

“Yeah-- follow me.”

Kanan headed back the way they’d come, pushing open the door that lead into the room where the party was being held. Hera hesitated for a second, then darted after him as he shouldered his way through the somewhat confused crowd.

They’d made it halfway through the crowd when the doors burst open, and an irate voice shouted, “STOP THAT TWI’LEK!!”

Hera heard Kanan breathe a curse quietly as she pulled her blaster out from under her dress. “Keep things stealthy until we don’t have to,” she muttered.

“Yeah, that’s going really well so far,” he hissed.

“You’re the one who smashed a vase over someone’s head!”

“Well, you shot down my other idea!”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hera said, “So help me, you’re going to drive me--”

She was cut off by a hand clamping down onto her shoulder. “Here she is!” someone shouted. “I’ve caught the intrud-- ugh!”

Hera spun smoothly, twisting away from the man who’d grabbed her, and slammed her fist into his throat. As the man dropped to the ground, clutching at his throat, Kanan grabbed her by the hand and pulled her forward. “Remind me never to make you that mad,” he said.

“You’ve come very close, dear,” Hera shot back.

“Have I mentioned you look amazing tonight?”

“You’re not helping your situation. Wait-- are we heading for the window?”

“You’re about to find out how I got into this place,” Kanan said, a grim smile crossing his face.

Releasing Hera’s hand, he didn’t stop in his tracks as he grabbed a bar stool and heaved it through the window, shattering the glass. Shards of it flew everywhere, and Hera heard screams as Kanan came to a stop next to the window.

“Come on!” he said, holding out his hand.

Hera darted forward, glancing down as Kanan’s hand wrapped around hers. A speeder was parked a few feet below them. “Creative,” she observed.

“I’m a creative guy,” Kanan quipped, then ducked as blaster fire zipped past them. Lifting her own blaster, Hera shot back at the stormtroopers who were flooding into the room. “Time to go!” Kanan said, and jumped, Hera leaping after him.

They landed in the speeder in an undignified pile, and Kanan immediately scrambled into the passenger’s seat. “Get us out of here!”

“On it,” Hera said, switching on the speeder and tossing Kanan her blaster. “Make yourself useful, please!”

“Yes, Captain Hera,” Kanan said, lifting his blaster and firing at the stormtroopers that were crowding into the window. Hera let out a triumphant sound as the engines roared to life.

“We’re out of here.” Slamming on the acceleration, they leaped forward. Kanan let out an undignified yelp, and Hera suppressed a smile as they zipped away from the building and into traffic.

It didn’t take them long to disappear, out of sight from the Imperials. Leaning back in his seat, Kanan remarked, “It’s been way too long since I’ve flown with you. You’re still as incredible as you used to be.”

Hera felt a small smile flash across her face. Kanan’s real compliments were somehow much nicer than his casual flirting. “Thanks. Now, where are we heading?”

“You can drop me off up here,” Kanan said, pointing. “It’s not technically my speeder, so you can take it wherever you need to go.” Pausing, he added, “Or we could find something to eat. Have a drink, maybe…”

Hera found herself hesitating, to her own surprise. Because part of her wanted to say yes, which she definitely didn’t expect. Maybe some of that flirting was actually starting to rub off on her.

But at the end of the day, she was working with the Rebellion, and Kanan refused to commit to something like that. And she really did have to get back. “Not this time,” she said, bringing them to a stop at the roadside. “I have work to do. Thank you, though, for your help with this.”

“Any time,” Kanan said, giving her a half-smile. “Until next time, Captain Hera.” Catching hold of her hand, he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against the back of it.

Hera’s eyes widened, a slight flush spreading over her at the unexpected gesture, and Kanan shot her a wink. “Couldn’t let you leave without a souvenir, could I?” He vaulted over the side of the speeder and headed down the street, looking supremely satisfied.

Despite herself, Hera felt a smile crossing her face. Typical Kanan. Gunning the engines, she took off down the street, heading back to the Ghost and her next mission. Trying to pretend like a certain gunslinger wasn’t still in the back of her mind.

She had a feeling that wouldn’t work very well, though. Kanan never made things like that easy. But Hera was starting to wonder if she actually minded.

[faulty-writes]

A scenario where Tamaki's been trying to confess to his crush for literal MONTHS but just can't ever get it out. Since his voice doesn't work around reader he decides to write a letter, penning down his innermost passions and it ends up being REALLY long with flowery Helga Pataki-esque descriptions of his feelings. But he ends up EATING the paper to prevent reader from seeing it when yn almost sees it. Later that dayduring training, his quirk manifest forces him to say everything he wrote aloud.

[ Finally your girl posts something after forever. Sorry guys! Life has been a bit crazy, I got obsessed with a couple role play groups, and of course, school. But, I’ll try to be better with my blog. I hope you all enjoy this Tamaki piece, thank you for the request dear anon! I thought this idea was a very unique take on Tamaki’s quirk. ] 

There you go again. His eyes locked on your every move as you walked through the hallway, your friends by your side, and you were laughing and smiling. Making his heart accelerate and his cheeks flush as always. It was true, Tamaki Amajiki. One of the members that made up The Big Three, had fallen for you. Unfortunately, despite trying to confess to you countless times. 

It did no good. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was thinking. He’d always be nervous when he approached you, cheeks red, and that stutter of his present. Even when he did finally manage to speak, he’d find his tongue felt like it was swollen, then he’d get more embarrassed and panic. Despite the fact, you would always ask him what’s wrong or if he needed help. 

The fact is, he was nothing but a coward. He’d turn and run which didn’t help much with his confidence considering he knew that you probably thought he was some kind of a freak. But, he had to tell you how he felt. He couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you with someone else which might sound selfish. He knew it was selfish but, he didn’t care. He wanted you all to himself and for once, maybe he deserved what he wanted. 

But, he didn’t know how to tell you. How could he reveal his feelings to you without looking silly or fearing rejection? There was only one person he thought of asking, “Well!” Nejire’s voice was as bright and cheery as ever as they sat outside a cafe. Nejire had insisted because they had good lattes and Tamaki was never one to argue. 

She smiled as she reached over to place her hand over his, the warmth and comfort from that gentle touch put him at ease for the moment. But, still, he needed an answer on what to do and eagerly waited to hear what Nejire had to say. “If you ask me, nothing says I love you more than the words of a love letter!” Tamaki’s expression completely dropped, his eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“W-What?” he questioned, he could already feel his stomach twist. That nauseous feeling of butterflies beginning to bother him, his cheeks grew unusually hot and he shook his head. “I c-can’t d-do that!” he stuttered out as his free hand tightened around the styrofoam cup he held. Nejire looked at him with a cross expression. 

“They don’t have to know who it’s from silly!” she half scolded, “Besides maybe it’ll help you sort out what you really want to say to them!” she suggested with a bright smile that made Tamaki groan in response. “I c-can’t! T-That’s so e-embarrassing and w-what if t-they find out the l-letter was f-from me!? W-What am I s-supposed to do?! W-What am I supposed t-to say?” he questioned and Nejire shook her head before slowly getting up from her seat. 

“Well duh!” she said before reaching over to lightly knock on Tamaki’s head, something that caught his attention but also made him flinch. He leaned back with a present frown on his face, “D-Duh what?” he asked, growing a little scared as she leaned over. He didn’t exactly like that smile on her face. “Then you have nothing left to hide,” she concluded as she reached up to boop his nose which made him wiggle it in response. 

He then looked down, nervous eyes shifting back and forth, “I...I d-don’t know,” he said which had Nejire sighing and she placed her hands on her hips. “Just start with the love letter and see where it goes from there, you may not believe it Amajiki, but you’re pretty brave when you’re determined,” she said before patting his shoulder. “Don’t forget that,” she said, smiling yet again before she walked away. 

Leaving him sitting there alone, his body hunched over the table as a gentle breeze came to ruffle his hair. Should he try to write you a love letter? Sure it sounded easy, but what if he got nervous and ended up writing the wrong thing? Was there a right or wrong way to write something as personal as a love letter? Your feelings across paper? Well, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So he purchased a notebook and pen and began to get to work, at first he found it rather difficult. His words were sloppy and lacking the meaningful nature he wanted them to. But, on occasion, this would change. Especially when he saw you in the hallway or in class, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of inspiration and would always write the words that screamed from his heart when he was near your presence. 

He often rewrote the confessions he had, longing for them to be perfect. He was almost finished with what he believed to be the perfect love letter and though he was still unsure how he’d give it to you. He was currently sitting in the library, body hunched over the table as he neared the end of his letter. All that was left were those three big words, the words he was too shy to speak. 

But, the ones that he longed to scream from the top of his lungs, the ones that could only be used to summarize how he felt about you. His pen continued to glide across the lined paper, prepared to write ‘I love you’ before he jumped. You had noticed Tamaki around and while you knew he was a member of The Big Three, you had never actually had a full conversation with him. 

Though you had class together and on occasion, you got the chance to fight side by side with him. He was amazing and you admired him for the heroism he showed, it was almost silly to think he was the same shy boy you saw roaming through the halls. You had always wanted to try and become friends with him, given you knew from past experience he tended to stutter and honestly couldn’t hold up a conversation. 

Still, you were determined to try. Of course, you hadn’t expected him to jump when you spotted him in the library and decided to walk over. You noticed he was writing something and couldn’t help but try and sneak a peek at it, looked pretty serious. You blinked before lowering your mouth to his adorable elf-like ear. “Hi Amajiki-san!” the cry that left his mouth ended up scaring you and without thinking. 

You stumbled back and watched as his head turned, those precious indigo-colored eyes wide and fearful and his cheeks dusted over a faint red. “Y-Y/n!?” he exclaimed before pulling the notebook to his chest, fingers securely grasping it. Hiding the written evidence of his feelings for you, despite you having no knowledge of his feelings for you in the first place or how he was trying to convey them through written words. 

You did, however, know he was hiding something and couldn’t help but smirk. “Hm?” you raised your hand, pointing a finger at the notebook. “What are you trying to hide there, Amajiki-san?” you questioned as you took a step closer, reaching out to grab his upper arm. You tugged on his sleeve and Tamaki let out a soft whine. “N-Nothing! I-It’s nothing!” he stuttered out, feeling his stomach twist into knots. 

He hoped he wouldn’t get nauseous, you were so close. You were touching him! “Oh? If it’s nothing then why are you hiding it?” you questioned in a teasing manner as you took a firmer grip and yanked his arm away. “Show me, I’m curious! Is it a project? Essay?!” the questions left your mouth in an excited manner. “I-It’s not uh, h-hey!” you had reached over and snatched the notebook away. 

“Oh boo, let me at least proofread it for you,” Tamaki’s stomach flipped upside down and his hand was clutching his chest, twisting the fabric of the signature red tie of his school uniform. He couldn't let you read it! He’d die! But there you were, holding his notebook with his dedicated words of love scribbled across it. “Now then,” you turned your attention to the notebook, about to read the first line just as the sound of a chair falling came. 

You jumped and turned to look but before you could react you felt a strong hand around your wrist. “Amajiki-san!” you exclaimed, prepared to activate your quirk or at least find your way out of his grip. But then, another noise echoed through the air. Your attention shifted back to the notebook and your jaw dropped as you realized he had ripped out the single page you were trying to read.

“Amajiki!” you scolded again, “S-Sorry! B-But you c-can’t see t-this!” he said as he proceeded to crumble the paper into a ball. You looked at him bewildered as he then shoved said ball into his mouth. “Uh…” was the only sound that managed to come out of your mouth as you watched him chew and proceed to swallow the paper. You blinked, lowering the notebook. 

Jaw hanging open in absolute awe at what you had just witnessed. Tamaki on the other hand had an itchy throat, and when the crumbled paper reached his stomach. He felt a small ache, which prompted him to place a hand over his stomach. His face was completely red, all the way to the pointy tips of his ears. “G-God, that w-was e-embarrassing u-uh…” he couldn’t even bear to look at you. 

He did, however, reach out to snatch his notebook back. The action caused you to gasp and you took a step back, your mind still trying to process what had just occurred. Damn, was it that much of a secret he had to eat it? What sense did that make? Still, you watched as he took the notebook and put everything into his backpack before scurrying away. Strange. 

You knew you’d see him in just a few moments, given you had class and hero training together. But, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to see him after he pulled such a strange stunt. “Uh...okay, bye then?” you said, clearly still confused despite the fact he was long gone. You placed your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, wonder if I’ll see anything stranger than that today,” you shrugged and exited the library. 

It was almost a nightmare trying to sit through class, much less pay attention to the lesson. It didn’t help that you sat near Tamaki either, but he seemed to give you the cold shoulder. Not so much as dare to take a glance at you, though you happened to notice his hand was over his stomach. Maybe he had a stomach ache, though after consuming a whole piece of paper splattered with ink.

It didn’t surprise you much, if at all. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder just what he had to hide. When afternoon came, you seemed to have forgotten about the strange incident as soon as you slipped on your hero attire. You grinned as you walked alongside your classmates to Ground Gamma, given you couldn’t help but glance over at Tamaki. 

He was currently talking to Nejire, but you noticed his face was twisted in some form of discomfort. “Y/n...Y/n!!!” you snapped out of your thoughts before turning to face one of your classmates. “Huh? What?” it was a little shameful you had zoned out, but even so. The teachers had decided that instead of team exercises, you’d be facing each other one on one. 

This disappointed you as you rather enjoyed working with your classmates to form tactical strategies and such, but it was important for heroes to learn how to work on their own as well. The who versus whom opponents were randomized as to assure fairness and the element of surprise, you were hoping you’d be one of the first students to show your skills in combat.

But, unfortunately, you weren’t and much like the other student heroes in training, you had to stand back and observe. Though you found yourself growing bored and decided to take a seat on the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest and sporting a dull expression. You glanced over at Tamaki once more, taking note that he was still holding his stomach and Nejire was patting his shoulder. 

You assumed she was telling him he was fine. As the second pair of students finished their training exercise, you leaned back and gave a loud yawn which seemed to catch your teacher’s attention. “Y/n,” they said and you turned to look at them with a raised eyebrow, but answered nonetheless. “Yes?” you replied, “Since you seem so bored, I’ll give you a task. Next match, Suneater verse Y/n!” your eyes widened and you sported a dumbfounded expression. 

“W-What?” you questioned and your teacher merely smirked at you, was that even legal? You knew your teachers were also pro heroes and as such, should be respected. But, sometimes you couldn’t help but question their teaching methods. Your classmates seemed rather surprised, whispering how lucky you were to be facing a member of The Big Three and how you’d more than likely get your ass kicked. 

Tamaki didn’t seem to take the news very well either, in fact, his face twisted into what you could only describe as pure fear. “Uh, I d-don’t think-” he tried to protest, but the teacher cut him off quickly and ordered you two to start at opposite ends of the training ground. You looked to Tamaki and shrugged, “May the best student win?” once you had taken your position among the twisted landscape of metal piping. 

You crouched down, going through strategies that could possibly give you an advantage. You wouldn’t let the fact he was a member of The Big Three bother you, even though this all boiled down to one thing. You had to try your best, with that in mind. You decided to lay low and take a running start, keeping your eyes and ears open for Tamaki. 

Carefully avoiding those obnoxious pipes in your way before you heard a noise. It was just a small creek, but you knew better than to believe it was just Ground Gamma settling. You stopped briefly, legs bent and ready to make an escape if you needed to. You stared into the abyss of metal before suddenly a tentacle shot out toward you, but a quick dodge saved you from being captured and you took off. 

Slithering between big and small pipes alike before you decide to ricochet between two of them, angling your body so you landed on top of a sturdy pipe. You quickly turned on your feet, glancing over the landscape once more. Your eyes searching for any sight or sign of Tamaki, you also had to be aware those tentacles of his could be trouble. With that idea, you quickly looked down. 

Ensuring there was no sight of those powerful octopus arms, you then opted to travel above the pipes. Easily jumping from one to the next, your head turning back and forth despite the fact that wind was ruffling your hair and causing your bangs to sway in your face. But, it was quiet. Everything was so quiet which it shouldn’t be, Tamaki’s steps couldn’t be that silent, unless...he wasn’t on the ground. 

Your eyes widened at the realization and from the corner of your eye, you saw a single brown feather. “Oh no,” you turned your head as a shadow cast over you. Instantly, your jaw dropped as you saw him. Tamaki, Suneater, the best of the best. Right above you, brown wings spread to their span. His right hand was morphed into long tentacles and his left shaped into a clamshell.

Before you could blink, those wings flapped and the next thing you recalled was a hard hit to your stomach. It threw you off balance and you fell a good few feet before reaching the ground. Pain surged through your person and a long groan escaped you. Every fiber of your being was screaming for you to get back up, but you were too slow. You heard Tamaki land behind you, but he said nothing as he approached you.

Which at the moment, was scary even though he was normally a quiet and reserved person. However, you yelped when you felt those tentacles proceed to wrap around you, binding your arms by your sides. Your quirk was useless without the movement of your hands and knowing that simple fact, you couldn’t help but clench your jaw. It seemed Tamaki had to add insult to injury as you felt the pressure of his enlarged chicken foot against your back. 

“I think...y-you’re...done…” came his words, seems he was always a tad braver when he was Suneater which made sense. You turned your head as much as you could, sending a glare toward him. You were usually better than this, but to get bested this quickly. It only reminded you of how much further you had to go before you could truly call yourself a hero. 

“Suneater…” you hissed out, flexing your arms as you attempted to get out of his grip. Tamaki however, felt his stomach twist again and his face once more showed discomfort. Maybe eating that letter was a bad idea. It certainly wasn’t settling in his stomach right, and his heart was racing at an unusual speed. But, he felt a strange sense of happiness course through his body as well. 

“Y/n, I think you’re my love,” a gasp left his mouth and you felt those tentacles retract. You pressed your hand to the ground, now looking at Tamaki with a wide-eyed expression. “W-What?” you questioned, wondering if you heard him correctly. But, judging by the way he was holding his hands over his mouth and how red his face was turning. 

You assumed you had indeed heard the words he had spoken correctly. He took a step back and you noticed his wings were disappearing, was his quirk so consciously controlled that when he was distracted by overwhelming emotions it became faulty? You were more than certain that if the teachers and fellow hero students were still watching, they would be confused as to why Tamaki had let you go.

You slowly rose to your feet, though your body. Mostly your ribs coursed with a dull ache which had you grasping your side. Your eyes were locked on Tamaki as he shook his head and took a step back, his hands tightened around his mouth to prevent it from opening again. But, it was no good. His jaw ached and he couldn’t stop himself, painfully he opened his mouth and more confusing words spilled. 

“I...have...been watching you...for so long! I see...you in the...h-halls...and I…” his body went tense as he forced his jaw closed once more, teeth pressing tightly together. What was happening? He had no idea, but he needed to be quiet or else. Oh God, was this because he had eaten the confession he wrote? Your jaw was hanging open, unsure of how to process the words he was speaking. 

First, he ate a piece of paper, now this? You took a step back when Tamaki stepped forward, “Uh, T-Tamaki, are you okay?” you questioned before he opened his mouth once more, his eyes watering over which concerned you all the more. “I...f-freeze! You’re the one...p-plaguing...my t-thoughts, my desires…I,” Tamaki’s jaw clenched once more and he leaned over, his hands curling into fists. 

“I w-want you...my l-love,” your heart began to pound in your chest, being called ‘my love’ by Tamaki of all people. Well, it was sweet. But, you couldn’t ignore the fact this was clearly not a willing confession. Something was making him speak against his will, maybe his quirk? His voice was strained and breathless which only furthered your assumption he was truly fighting with himself.

“I...long...t-to hold…y-you! My darling...and b-be your hero, to c-cradle and protect...y-you!” his body was trembling as he raised his hand, fingers spread out and palm facing toward you. Your eyes shifted to that hand, eyebrows furrowing together. “Uh...Tamaki,” you said, though you were tempted to take that hand. “I long...t-to be yours!” he stumbled forward, his face was hot and he could feel droplets of sweat fall from his person.

The fact his cheeks were completely red was a good indication he was embarrassed by what he was saying which caused you to frown. You planted your feet on the ground, knowing that you couldn’t exactly run away or restrain him in his current state in order to win. That wasn’t a fair fight and in addition, you knew heroes don’t run from those in need. 

However, it seemed even in his...current abnormal state. He was still in control of some of the aspects of his quirk, in fact, before you could properly react. Those tentacles were around one of your arms, the suction cups digging into your skin and taking firm grip. “Amajiki!” you took a step back, trying to pull your arm out of his grip. But, it was no use as you just got pulled forward again. 

“AMAJIKI,” you warned again, going as far as to reach over and begin to claw at those tentacles. The sound of your shoes scraping against the metal ground wasn’t exactly comforting, neither was the fact you knew you were going to lose this small struggle. “I w-want to be your husband...one day! Scream your name...f-from the rooftops! My love...my one and o-only!” you shook your head, now growing afraid of the shy reserved boy. 

Especially when he finally pulled you forward, causing you to shriek. Your hand was out as you collided with his chest and you immediately felt the pressure of his arm against your lower back. His nails digging into your hip which made you hiss. But he continued to speak, “Just let me h-hold you and soak y-your body in! M-Melt together in a beautiful...ember of love and j-joy,” you blinked, trying to jerk your body out of his grip.

But, it was of little use. He leaned over and you shivered when you felt the soft skin of his face bury itself into your hair. “You are...my w-whole world…” he sucked in a breath, still fighting but it was beginning to hurt. His stomach felt heavy, too weighed down. He needed to say everything, “Fear and c-courage, the one...s-sole purpose in my life...i-is you,” the words were mumbled slightly and he lifted his head. 

“I won’t g-give up. I’ll f-fight the army that holds m-my love hostage, I want you to be...m-mine,” your eyes widened and you wanted to tilt your head up and look at him, but you were almost afraid to. “My l-love and my heart, the one...I w-wish to worship. D-Drop to my knees...a-and kiss your skin,” he choked out and you could feel those tentacles loosen around you. 

“Tamaki…?” his name came out of your mouth in a soft whisper and you finally lifted your head to look at him. His face was still twisted, a painful expression spread across it and you gasped as he leaned close. You were taken back by the intense expression that danced in his eyes and your face began to grow red. “I want t-to set up a s-shrine...pray to your p-powerful aura,” this was just getting weird, but somehow you knew it was the truth which made it even scarier. 

You were tempted to run when those tentacles finally retracted, but you didn’t have time to even think about such as Tamaki’s hand now gently took hold of your chin. You felt a lump form in your throat as you found yourself staring into Tamaki’s eyes. “Forever...m-more...until the end of my...d-days...I...” he suddenly stopped and his breath hitched.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. However, you let out another shriek when Tamaki suddenly dropped to the ground. You stumbled back, not having expected such a thing. The sound of his panting filled the air and you watched as he reached up and ran his hand through his hair. Such didn’t help the sweat that covered his person and your eyebrows furrowed once more. 

“I...Amajiki, are you...I mean...everything you said...was it…” you were almost afraid to ask and took a sharp breath which caused a shooting pain to course through your ribs. You latched onto your lip to prevent yourself from hissing and Tamaki slowly lifted his head to look at you. His eyes full of horror and regret, “I...I…” he wasn’t sure what to say, what could he say?

He wasn’t entirely sure what made him say what he did, every word he spoke was in his letter. Did eating it make an effect on his quirk? He groaned and covered his face, saying no more before he took off running in the opposite direction. It took you a moment to fully realize the Big Three member was indeed making a run for it, “Amajiki, wait!” you called out, your hand outstretched in his direction.

Your teachers and fellow students who witnessed this odd interaction were currently scratching their heads, trying to piece together what could have possibly happened to cause one of the top students to run with his tail between his legs. But, the fact you were being watched through this whole exercise was the last thing on your mind. 

You couldn’t help but run after Amajiki, your feet pounding against the metal flooring of Ground Gamma. While you had lost sight of him, you knew there was only one place he could have gone. To the end of the training ground where the exit was located, though you weren’t as fast as Tamaki which caused some anxiety as you hoped he’d be where you thought he was. 

When you reached the location of the exit, you leaned over with your hands on your knees. The sound of your soft panting filled the air before you wiped your brow. Your jaw then clenched as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ribs, the exit to Ground Gamma was a large hallway with very dim lighting. In a way, it made you uneasy seeing Tamaki there. 

Despite being dressed in his hero attire, he was facing the wall. His forehead pressed against it and you could tell he was trembling, you had known Tamaki to do this exact thing. Given the fact he was rather shy and suffered from anxiety, you frowned and slowly approached him. “Amajiki,” you said, your voice was soft. But, that didn’t stop the fact that Tamaki ducked his head. 

You reached your hand out, wanting to touch him but you decided against it for now. You took a deep breath, “Um, so…” you reached up, scratching the side of your temple. Where would you even begin? “I’m not sure...what that was but...did you mean it? Everything you said?” Tamaki wanted to smack his head against the wall, your question left his stomach twisting with butterflies. 

Honestly, part of him wished his heart would stop as opposed to continue to pound inside his chest. Of course, everything he said was the truth as terribly spoken and previously written down as it was. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. In fact, he had never written a love letter before and though he had made countless drafts. It seemed he just wasn’t talented enough to write such romantic words on paper. 

“Mm…” is the only way he managed to respond to you. “Mm? Amajiki…” you paused and decided to finally reach out, placing your hand on his shoulder.  However, he seemed to shy away from your touch. Shuffling to the side, you let out a sigh and lowered your hand. A friendly touch wouldn’t do anything in this case and you didn’t know the other Big Three members well enough to ask them how to properly handle Tamaki when he got like this. 

You’d feel bad if you left him all alone, but it didn’t seem as though he wanted your company at the current moment. You glanced down, hearing the sound of wind echo through the open exit way. You turned your head to look around, you knew you couldn’t afford to waste any more time. 

Else your teacher would begin to look for you or another verse competition would start. “Amajiki…” you said yet again, allowing your hands to rest by your sides. “Regardless if...what you said was true or not, I think we need to leave an-” before you could say anything more.

Tamaki had turned and began to sprint away and it honestly made your heart sink. You watched him disappear from view again and let out a sigh, maybe you’d confront him about it later. But, if what he said was true. Well, you’d need to figure out how you felt about it.

[ac3id]

bully anon 🚶. are u reading my mind? 👁️👄👁️ im literally writing a yandere!bully! bakugo x reader thing where he shares his darling w his crazy classmates 💅 also bakumomo 🤤

bnha: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x momo yaoyorozu

warnings:  humiliation, degradation, noncon touching, bj. bakugo n momo be meanies :'), fem reader

momo has a kick for seeing u suffer, she just loves when ur eyes get glossy & a  sacred, hopeless expression masks ur face. she gets such a power trip from it that even the slightest bit of guiltiness she feels from bullying u disappears.

but she knows she cant make u cry the way she wants u too. u r not that scared of her. too u, she is just another rich girl picking on u because it boosts their ego. u honestly couldnt care less about those types anymore. so she knows u wont submit to her so easily and thats when she goes to bakugo for help.

the both of them have great respect for eachother, he knows how extraordinary she is and vice versa but when momo asks him, “what do u think of her,” signalling to u, hes a little confused. hes always thought of u as the pathetic type, u did not hold much respect in his heart or mind. hed often forget about ur existence even but one thing he had wouldnt admit, ever was that he also found u hot. very attractive. sometimes, late at night he wud pump his cock to the thought of u. the way u stretched during warm ups, ur beautiful curves. the way ur perfect, little ass bent and jiggled during exercises. he dreamed of going up to u & grabbing a handful. the way ur tits bounced when u ran, everything clouded his mind during late nights when he tried to release pent up stress.

so when momo asked him the question he gave the most honest answer, “just another extra, too me,” momo seemed satisfied w his answer, “so, u dont care about her?” she asks & bakugo agrees. “well she pisses me off.”

the spite momo held in her tone made it hard to believe it was actually her speaking. she asks bakugo for his help. she promises him that he can do whatever he wants with u, whatever. he had said he didnt care about u, it should be easy for him to bully u. he agrees besides, who could say no to momo.

it starts of with usual teasing, hes calling u names, deeming u worthless & laughing when he sees u tear up from his harsh words. he feels amazing, like he is on top of the world. he bullies u pathetically, calling u out on ur insecurities & turning it into a laughing stock for others. while everyone is laughing at ur weak state, fortunately for u someone comes to ur rescue– momo stands up against bakugo acting as she is actually disgusted by his actions, acting as if she wasnt snickering along w the others.

she defends u but what she says just makes u cry even louder. she never outright denies his insults. he calls u a worthless, piece of shit with no real importance to the world. from momo, its never ‘dont listen to him, u are an amazing person y/n!’ but its always ‘bakugo–san, dont pick on others for things they cant change about themselves.” she also thinks u are worthless? guess so? everyone just laughs louder, they know what she is doing & so do u. u know u cant take this anymore, the humiliation brings tears to ur eyes and u can feel the dam break slowly.

u run to the bathroom not sparing a glance behind. u lock urself up in one of the stalls, crying ur pain away. not after long, a loud thud bangs against the door w a crude voice following the tune, “oi, i know ure in there!” bakugo screams, his repeated banging on the door never stopping, “open up!” he continues but u dont listen to him instead putting ur hands over ur ears, trying to block out the sound of his loud cries.

u keep at it for as long as bakugo stands outside the door until u hear an explosion go off & the next thing is he looking down at u ferociously. his glowing, red eyes gleam a powerful hatred making u tremble over the toilet seat. he pulls ur face up by ur hair before slapping u across the face. ur face stings when his hand connect to ur cheek, ur head falling to the opposite direction, ur breath uneven as tears pools down ur eyes.

“oi,” he tugs on ur hair again, ur scalp burning as he tugs on ur weak roots, “u think u can just run away?” u strain ur eyes, trying to look up at him through ur watery vision. “useless bitch,” his stare is intense. his vermilion eyes scan ur tear stained face and he feels himself get excited. the way u are seated would make u face his crotch if it werent for him holding u up by ur hair, “u are pathetic, u know?” he says it like its a question but u very well know hes serious. u only sob harder at his words, fat, salty tears rolling down ur cheeks, u pray to urself that he leaves u alone.

unfortunately for u, the whole scene just excites bakugo even further. he feels his jeans tighten as he starts to imagine u sucking him off. it was just like one of his fantasies only difference; u were here in real flesh & blood withering under him. he drops ur head & u quickly turn ur gaze to the floor, peering down at ur shoes. ur face drops as u hear bakugo unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper, u keep ur gaze focused to the floor not daring to look up.

what was he going to do? pee on u?

only when he calls out ur name u by mistakenly peep up. the sight u see is scandalous, he pumps his semi-hard cock in his fist slowly as he watches ur every move. ur eyes widen in terror when u hear him talk, “put it in ur mouth, bitch.” his order is absolute yet u dont listen to him. there was no way u were actually going to suck his dick, ur eyes fall back down on the floor as u drop ur head down, “no.” u whisper, ur voice timid. bakugo frowns, what makes u think u have a say in this.

“what do u mean no?” he asks voice on edge, “i-its rape.” ur answer comes out in a weak, broken cry which makes bakugo scoff, “how? im not even touching u.” u try to reason but bakugo is having none of it. growing impatient, he grabs ur head and pushes his cock into ur mouth, completely ignoring ur cries. “bite me and i will blow ur face off” its not an empty threat so u obey. it wasnt like u would be able to win against him anyway.

“suck on it, whore. im litreally asking u to do one single thing but u cant even do that?” bakugo is crude with his words, never missing any opportunity to talk u down. u start sucking on his cock, ur head bobbing & tongue swirling around his tip. he hisses in pleasure, this was so much better than his imagination.

“look at u go, guess the rumours are true afterall.” he laughs. u can feel him coming closer. his cock twitches in ur mouth as he bites his lips roughly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. his cock hits the back of ur throat before he cums in ir mouth. hot, salty liquid shooting down ur throat making u feel nauseous. “guess sucking dick is the only thing u are good at,” he remarks letting go of ur face. and pulling his pants on. embarrassed, u turn ur face away from him sobbing softly as u wait for him to leave but he never does. instead he watches u cry.

“what are u doing?” another voice breaks in. momo stands outside the bathroom stall knocking on the wooden door. ur head turns to face bakugo in a flash as he goes unlock the door. u grab on his arm, pleading him to not open the door. u didnt want momo to see u in this state. bakugo stares at u before throwing a chasire grin as he opens the door.

more tears fall from ur eyes as u see momo waiting out, concern written all over her face. her fear only increases when she looks over ur broken form. “what happened in here?” she turns to bakugo but recieves no answer, “he raped me!” u scream & momo’s eyes widen. she turns to bakugo, giving him a genuine glare. she approaches u slowly, her hands rest on ur shoulder as she pushes ur face into her boobs while she rubs ur back with soothing circles. “what did he do?” u find it strange how bakugo hadnt left yet, he was technically exposed. what good could it do him? watching the girl whos mouth he just violated get pampered. u tell her about he shoved his dick down ur throat forcefully. u were not sure why she was being all nice to all of a sudden but it was comforting. u keep hugging momo as u cry about bakugo. he just clicks his tongue before getting to leave but momos suggestion holds him back, “why just her mouth?” momo pulls away from ur embrace, her hands now falling behind ur back as she captures ur wrists and bounds the away with ropes she had created. ur wrists adjust uncomfortably behind u. next, her hands reach out between ur legs, forcing them open.

“momo, what are u doing?” the false sense of security is gone as she flips over ur skirt displaying ur light pink panties to bakugo. u squirm around trying to get free of the ropes but its impossible. “didnt i tell u that u can do whatever u want w her?” ur face pales as she starts talking. “shes a virgin, u will have fun. im planning on recording it.” her nimble fingers play with ur clit over the fabric making u wet. “besides, look at her. dont tell me she doesnt want this.” her fingers vanish behind ur panties as she plays with ur holes, ur arousal sticking to her fingers deliciously.

bakugo looks at scene displayed before him and feels himself raging a hard–on again. he takes a good look at ur crying face wrecking u and filling u with his cum till the brim while momo records everything.

[amenomiko]

Thank you for the request, @crossmix ❤❤❤❤❤

Lancelot

-Will make Kyle to check on her every hour.

-Yes, every hour. Until our poor doctor roll his eyes saying that Lancelot is being paranoid.

-"I'm not paranoid, I'm just worried. Alice is important to me, she is the light of my life, the flower to my-"

-"Save that speech for later when you serenade her will you? Now let me tend to other patients in peace!"

-He will be out from his uniform, so he can wet his sleeves to put the towel on her forehead, and MC find his furry cape on her to keep her warm.

-Lancelot.exe also couldn't be found in his office as he practically move his work to be in the bedroom so he can look after her all the time.

-Panicked Jonah: My King this is where you were 😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!

-Lancelot: Shhh... She is sleeping. Now report your tasks in whispers.

-Jonah and Edgar: *In whispers* Okay 👌.

Jonah

-He is the.. Panicked 101 and flustered boyfriend ever live.

-But he still want to show that he is a genius.

-Edgar: That's not how this.. "Fever Pads" work, Jonah.

-Jonah: Be quiet Edgar, I know what I'm doing!

-Kyle: No you are OBVIOUSLY NOT. Even though this item is not from our world, at least read the bloody instructions on the back! It just needs one fever pad. ONE. Putting all 10 pads like a layer cake won't suck out the heat faster like you assume!

-Meanwhile, MC: *Half asleep* Layer cake? Caaaake? Yaaaaaay \(+ w +)/~~~~ *K.O back to bed*

-Them: (　☉_⊙)...

-Jonah: Oh my poor, poor Alice 😭. I promise I will get you all the layer cake in cradle 😭😭😭😭😭!!!

-Crying mess.

-Most probably will go to Black Army and ask Luka for help. In snots and tears.

Edgar

-Just like Lancelot, he will do his work next to her. Despite having a room that has no separation between working table and the bed, he moved his table to be beside her.

-80% of the time will be with her. 20% is with works and tasks.

-If he have to train his people, he will only spend a good 15 minutes and passes the task to Zero, making an escape from it just to be with her.

-His face may show his usual smile, but every time MC coughs, it would be replaced with a genuine concern.

-Constant kisses on her forehead, silent pray that he'd rather get the sickness than her.

-But when MC said "I will be sad if you are sick too, Edgar.", then he quickly finish his work, just to be with her more and more.

-Ending up with sleeping next to her.

Zero

-" (´・ｪ・｀)......"

-"( ´･ω･)....."

-MC: I'm fine, really. You have been staring at me for almost an hour, Zero.

-"I'm worried."

-"I know,..But it doesn't mean you have to keep an eye on me all the time. This fever will go away soon. So don't worry okay?"

-Zero: *Dejected Face 101* ...Okay. *Goes out + peeks with (´・ｪ・｀) face again before completely go out.*

-He is worried, so, so worried that he is distracted, even when Edgar replaced his sword with a random object-- he didn't pay attention to it.

-Zero is practically the stoic type. Yet being his lover, MC could read his mind and expressions very well. He will hold her hand every time she's asleep, and ended up sleeping on the chair, resulting him to be the one who gets sick next.

Kyle

-Doctor mode all the way.

-He will let go of his love for beer and be with her 24/7, literally.

-But well. The way he checked on her temperature would be "Boyfriend" like.

-Forehead on forehead, feeding medicine through mouth to mouth, making MC's temperature to go up from the heat of... Blushing too much.

-"Can you just feed me normally??"

-"It helps you to sleep faster. Why not?" He smirked, taping her nose playfully.

-"Now now don't pout so much. You will be a red balloon you know?"

-*Kiss*

-"Ah, she fainted."

Ray

-Will tease her for being sick first, but after that he is the day and night walking surveillance.

-Despite teasing her for being a weak kiddo, his smile will instantly fade once she have fallen asleep, showing how worried he is but putting a strong facade at her.

-Constant kissing on forehead and a caress on her head with soft whispers of "Get well soon. I miss your adorable smile."

-Couldn't focus during training, and the army watch how he keep on looking back and forth from the window of her room.

-Pamper her by feeding her porridge (most probably will cook one without asking for Luka or Sirius's help)

-Ends up sleeping in his uniform beside her and woke up with a bad hair bed.

Sirius

-Always denies that he is not the mom.

-He IS. Especially when his lover is sick.

-"Wear this. No that is not thick enough, we need to keep you warm. And this as well. This one too. And this. Hmm? It's more than enough? Little lady, the weather is chilly we must keep you warm."

-Cue MC sighing to the thick jacket, scarf, socks and gloves as if winter is coming.

-Pat her to sleep, just like a mom will do, making it hard for her to sleep (because his handsome face is so near, that is why!)

-MC had to feign a sleep in order for him to go out from the room so she can secretly take off those wooly thicky fabric ahsheskdf OAO!

Fenrir

-Was very calm until MC's temperature went high.

-Almost consider to ask Oliver to make a gun where it makes someone's body to become healthy again.

-Oliver: Just relax will you? Kyle would ask if he is a joke as an existing doctor!

-Skipped training with his army for almost a week just to take care of her.

-He even clean his gun and bring all of his works to his room.

-MC, feeling guilty, have no choice but to ask him with "Fenrir, I can't sleep. There's something lurking under the bed, that's why--"

-Before she could finish her words, he already run out from the room, but come back again to bring her together with him.

-Attempt to stop him - Failed completely.

Luka

-Oh, endless pampering.

-From soup to porridge and any soft food, it is delicious that she wouldn't mind getting sick everyday.

-Luka: Please don't say it like that. I'm sad whenever you are sick, I just miss your beautiful smile, MC-.. MC?? What's wrong?? What? Angel?? What-- MC hang in there!! *Horrifying gasp when she fainted 😱😱😱😱😱*

-It's hard to stay awake, especially when he is being so sweet, letting her sleep on his chest for example-- oh! He is too sweet she could get cavities 😩!

-"Luka... I can't do that. What if you get sick?"

-"Much better than you getting sick instead, MC."

-And she fainted again.

Seth

-Panic 404 and an endless shrieking the moment MC fainted in the room, him checking her temperature, until he brings her to her chamber.

-Running frantically to get all preparations needed, causing ruckus despite being told to calm down by Sirius.

-Throughout the time she was sick, he will show the girly sisterly seth,

-But the moment he close the door, his real self popped up. "MC.. How are you? I'm sorry for not being able to notice that you were not feeling well."

-"No.. I'm sorry for being sick at this time. Just need to get those sweat off and I will be fine (♡´▽`♡)."

-He smirked. "I know a better method to do that."

-Fast forward, the very next day after using such "method", the black army is confused of why Seth is the one who caught the fever and MC is completely healed.

-Cough.

Harr

-He looks calm all the time, but he's NOT.

"(´・ｪ・｀)...." Another one that will sit beside her bed just to check on her every chances he got. Which is, after he feed her food and meds, after cooking for loki, after making magic crystals, after leaving his work to Dalim, after fishing some fish and etc.

-"Hmm? You don't have to worry about Magic Tower. I want to be here." .....After a moment of hesitation, he brings himself to kiss her forehead.

-Agshdgakskkff BLUSH when she smiled.

-"Harr.. I want to eat your delicious food once I'm all better."

-"Of course, MC. I promise you I will cook everything. Get well soon."

-He didn't break the promise though.

-MC's face to all, ALL the food on the table: (☉д⊙)

Oliver

-"What? You have a fever? Heh, what do I expect from a dimwit like you anyway?"

-Says the one who moved ALL his work to the bedroom. And drinks tea there. And have his meal there. Leaving Blanc all to himself with his carrot cake.

-Not the romantic type to caress her head when she's awake but do so when she's asleep.

-High on alert whenever she coughs, where he instantly move around the room to get a glass of water and change the cloth on her forehead.

-"Oliver.. I'm sorry to get in a way with your work."

-He smirks, leaning forward for a kiss, saying "Just get well soon, hmm?" before showering her with another series of kisses.