#and started tickling someone in the center

[poutpoutlilith]

Just had a weirdly hot dream and it has inspired a new fic I think that I shall begin writing immediately. Spoiler for the concept in the tags. But holy fuck. Thisss was. Something.

[fairy-writes]

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

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Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place. 

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why. 

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved. 

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could. 

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you. 

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox. 

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later. 

Only to pause by the door. 

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again. 

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic. 

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over, 

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum, 

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding. 

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that. 

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind. 

She always did overthink things. 

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that. 

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling. 

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for. 

To Vi and Powder especially. 

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door. 

Vander was close behind. 

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory. 

Like… Really dark territory. 

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind. 

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi. 

She wasn’t looking too hot. 

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again. 

At least until she saw you. 

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders. 

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears. 

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting. 

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children. 

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before. 

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought. 

Were you a doctor deep in your past? 

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it. 

And that hurt his heart. 

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you. 

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands. 

You looked tired. 

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples. 

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs, 

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug, 

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag. 

Vi was going to be okay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum. 

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said. 

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair. 

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher. 

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces. 

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces. 

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased. 

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so. 

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths. 

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter. 

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked. 

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared, 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother, 

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them. 

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door. 

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys. 

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on. 

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing. 

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed. 

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care. 

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly. 

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer, 

“On a date!” 

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone. 

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit. 

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside. 

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing. 

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring. 

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i’ll help you through it, yeah?

pairing: chan x virgin reader

genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

word count: ~2.6k

warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.

authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol

masterlist

"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."

your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.

"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."

"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"

he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.

"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.

"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."

you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.

he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.

"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.

you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.

"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."

you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.

"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."

"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"

you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.

he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.

this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.

"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.

he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.

"can we take this off?"

your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"

you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.

"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.

he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."

he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."

your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.

"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.

he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."

his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."

what did he mean by that? you wondered.

"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.

"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.

he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.

"does that feel good?" he asked.

"yes.." you breathed. "so good."

his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.

"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.

"go ahead, baby. let go."

and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.

he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.

"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.

"yes please." you said, breathless.

"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"

"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."

he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"

you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."

he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"

"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."

he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"

you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.

you froze.

"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."

you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."

his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"

you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.

he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."

you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"

"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."

"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,

[willowsnook]

Noisy Neighbor pt. 2

pt. 2 to this request

@watermelonslut

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Ever since that night, things between you and Lando had changed for the better. Now, when you passed each other in the hall, you no longer felt irritated. You’d even watched a few F1 races to see if he really was as good as he said. When he was away, he texted to "check in on his apartment" but always ended up steering the conversation toward how you were doing.

You weren’t sure what to make of this new dynamic. On one hand, Lando was undeniably attractive and fun to be around. But as a new F1 fan, you’d read the headlines—playboy, cocky, self-centered. So, for now, you convinced yourself to keep things friendly, neighborly. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

On Friday morning, you were gearing up for a focused workday when a knock at the door interrupted you.

"Can I help you?" you asked, puzzled to see a delivery guy holding a coffee and pastry bag from the cafe down the street.

"Delivery for Y/N," he said, extending the bag toward you.

"I didn’t order anything," you replied, confused.

"Looks like it was ordered by a Lando Norris," he clarified, checking the receipt, and you felt a warm flutter in your chest.

Reluctantly, you took the bag, smiling as you closed the door. Peeking inside, you saw a slice of pumpkin bread—your favorite.

Y/N: Thanks for the pick-me-up. Is this a pre-apology for something you're doing tonight?

LN: Maybe…

Y/N: What time are you back?

LN: Around 5. Having a few friends over, so you've been warned.

Y/N: Define “a few.”

LN: No comment.

Y/N: :|

LN: You should stop by, though.

Y/N: We’ll see.

After a productive day, you spent the evening cleaning up your apartment, knowing Lando’s party would soon start across the hall. By 7 p.m., the music was already thumping. With a sigh, you changed into something a bit more casual yet presentable, then headed over.

When Lando opened the door, grinning at you in a black T-shirt and sweats, you couldn’t help but smile.

"Hey," he greeted, pulling you inside. After a quick introduction to his friends, he whisked you to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure," you replied, eyeing the crowd. You’d guess around 20 people were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the music. Lando handed you a drink, and after one sip, you grimaced.

"This is terrible," you laughed, and he chuckled.

"It grows on you. Trust me."

Just then, a voice called his name, and he slipped away, leaving you to nurse the mystery drink. A familiar voice behind you made you spin around.

“Y/N? Is that you?” It was Maggie, an old friend from college.

You squealed, pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

“I could ask the same thing!” she said, surprised. "I’m here on vacation."

Laughing, you replied, "I live in Monaco now, right across the hall from Lando. How do you know him?"

“We have mutual friends,” she explained as you moved to the balcony, catching up.

A couple of hours (and a few more of Lando’s terrible concoctions) later, you were feeling it. While chatting with one of his friends in the living room, two arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt Lando’s warmth at your back.

"Hi," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You giggled, glancing up at him. "Hi."

"Having fun?" he asked, a playful look in his eyes.

"Tons, but I am very drunk," you admitted, laughing.

He chuckled, turning you to face him, his eyes softening. “You’re so pretty,” he slurred, making you blush.

"So are you," you shot back, and he shook his head.

"No, I’m handsome, not pretty," he argued, pouting as you tilted your head in mock thought.

"Nope, I think you're pretty," you teased, earning an exaggerated eye roll. Just then, someone called for him, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you back to the living room. But instead of letting you go, he settled you right in his lap on the couch.

“Much better,” he said with a smirk, his arms snug around you. You settled in, joining the conversation and enjoying his friends’ company. Someone brought over a round of shots, and things became a bit of a blur after that.

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

The next morning, you woke with a pounding headache and a desperate need for water. Blinking, you realized you were in Lando’s room, the man himself snoring softly beside you. Glancing down, you blushed—somehow, you’d ended up in just your tank top and underwear.

Leaning over him to grab a water bottle from the nightstand, you accidentally woke him.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"10," you replied, wincing at the brightness of your phone.

Sitting up, he smiled at you sleepily before his eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, confused.

“Umm… how much do you remember from last night?”

You tried to think back. "Last thing I remember is tequila shots. Did we… hook up?”

“No,” he replied, blushing. “Close, but… no.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” you asked, watching as he flicked his eyes down from your eyes. Moving over to the mirror, you gasped.

“Are you fucking serious, Lando?” you said, glaring at him with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He smirked. “You asked for it.”

Looking closer, you saw multiple hickeys around your collarbone, deep purple marks trailing down toward your chest.

"Hope you're happy," you said, shooting him a glare in the mirror.

“Quite,” he replied cheekily, “but you blue-balled me, so we’re even.”

“I did?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

He laughed. "Yeah, we made out on the couch for a while, and when I brought you in here, you were asleep by the time I turned around."

"Oops," you replied with a smirk. "I’m starving.”

“Let’s get some food, then,” he said, tossing you one of his hoodies. "I think Max is still passed out on the couch. He can join us."

You threw on the hoodie and your leggings, and sure enough, Max was slumped on the couch in the living room. Lando woke him, and the three of you headed out.

Luckily, you’d thought to grab a hat and sunglasses, feeling the effects of the night before. Lando’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, and you rolled your eyes at Max’s cheeky grin. The restaurant was only a few minutes away, and you could barely wait to dig into the menu.

Suddenly, a girl approached your table. Lando looked up, assuming she was a fan, but her gaze was on you, her face alight with excitement.

“I’m a huge fan of your books!” she exclaimed, trying to contain her excitement. You smirked as Lando’s face fell, while Max burst into laughter.

“Thank you so much!” you said, grinning. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“The first in the trilogy,” she replied. “I love Axel. Actually, I have it with me—would you mind signing it?”

“Of course!” you said, signing her book. “I really appreciate the support.”

After the fan left, Lando still looked stunned, and you couldn’t help but tease him.

"Looks like I’m not the only one with fans," you said, nudging him playfully.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah… maybe I need to read this trilogy of yours.”

Max leaned in with a grin. “Oh, you should. Axel’s way cooler than you.”

You rolled your eyes, but when you glanced over, you noticed Lando’s gaze lingering on you. His smile softened as he reached for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours. Surprised, you met his eyes, which were warmer than you’d ever seen.

“I’m glad you came over last night,” he said quietly, almost like a confession.

Blushing, you squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

The rest of the breakfast was filled with laughter and playful banter, but every so often, you’d catch each other’s eye and share a small, secret smile. When it was time to leave, Lando slipped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you walked back to the car.

As he drove you home, he kept glancing over, as if he couldn’t help but steal little glimpses of you. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft.

“Do you think we could go out some time? Maybe for dinner?”

Heart fluttering, you smiled and looked at him. “I’d like that.”

Lando grinned, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

[spider-stark]

THE GOLD TANKARD

Benjicot Blackwood x Smallfolk!Reader

Summary - Benji is a regular at the tavern you work at—and you're starting to think he's forgetting his coin on purpose.

Warnings - fem!reader, kieran burton fan cast, all characters 18+, suggestive/sexual language, not edited bc I'm lazy and wrote this for fun in like an hour

Word Count - 650+

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

The Gold Tankard was a shit-house of an inn. Famous mostly for its basement-tavern, it had been built ages ago in the heart of Pennytree—a derelict village lying smack in the center of the disputed border of House Blackwood and House Bracken. 

After many, many years of existence, the Tankard has fallen into a blatant state of decay. Cracks spiderweb up the side of stone walls, woodworms infest the cedar roof overhead, and the carpets are stained with beer and piss and gods-knows-what-else. 

Still, it remains in-business—bringing in coin from the many knights and men traveling through Pennytree, so desperate for a hot meal and a bed that they’re willing to overlook the scuttling bugs and musty aroma. 

And being the resident barmaid isn’t so bad, you suppose. 

At least, not when Benjicot Blackwood is a near-nightly patron of the Tankard. While he's forever forgetting his copper, he's always quite creative in finding other ways to pay for your service—and you have found the Lord to be quite talented with his tongue… 

His grip tight, Benji drags you up the dimly lit stairs leading from the tavern to the narrow halls of the inn above. 

“M’lord,” the title slips past your lips, giggling as you protest, “my shift isn’t over! The girls will be needing me behind the bar and–” 

Benji cuts you off with a groan. Tugging your wrist, he shoves your back flush against the chilly stone wall, caging your body with his. “Is that all you care about? What the girls need?” He leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “What about what I need?” 

Pure, unbridled lust dilates his pupils, his storm-cloud eyes nearly devoid of color as they drag over your face. They snag on your lips—and, instinctively, he rolls his hips against yours, a growing hardness pressed to your thigh. 

“I care about getting paid,” you choke out, clawing at the remaining shreds of your composure. “Not all customers are as mingy with their coin as you, M’lord.” 

Warmth fans across your cheeks as Benji huffs a laugh. “So you think I’m mingy, do you?” 

A scowl twists your features, heat rushing to your cheeks. You can tell from his tone—so impish and cheeky—that he’s poking fun at you. What word would a highborn girl have used, then? Oh, you’re so frugal M’lord! So utterly parsimonious! 

Shoving against his weight, you grind out, “I have work to tend to, M’lord–” 

Benji’s grip on you tightens, his other hand coming to cradle the side of your head, fingers weaving themselves into your hair as he presses you back against the wall—harder this time. 

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, love,” he tuts, lips grazing against your cheekbone, leaving soft kisses in their wake. “You know how I adore your little commonors dialect.” 

Your eyes narrow, frustration bubbling up inside of you. 

“If you wish to insult someone, then I may suggest the whorehouse down the street, M’lord. Barmaids are not forced to endure such abuse—especially from unpaying customers.” 

“Abuse?” Benji’s breath tickles your ear, a shiver crawling down your spine. “Is that what I’m doing?” He pauses, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your breath catches, and you feel him smirk as he purrs, “Abusing you?” 

Your pulse races, your heart hammering against your chest so fiercely that you fear Benji can feel it, his chest pressed firm against yours. You feel dizzy and off-balance, unable to think of anything other than him—his fingers twined in your hair, his lips on your jaw, his cock against your thigh. 

You feel it waning—the last bits of your composure, torn to ribbons under his touch. It’s only when his mouth comes to rest against yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, that you finally give in. 

Between strangled moans, you say, “You’ll have to be quick."

Benji’s grin is painfully arrogant as he rolls his hips again. “Oh, baby—” a low, raspy chuckle sets a fire in your belly—“quick isn’t in my vocabulary.” 

a/n - idk man I can't write smut so this where it ends I guess lmao. kinda wanna explore more with this reader cause I like the idea of a lil barmaid and benji but we'll see!

as stated in warnings, this wasn't edited in the slightest and I wrote it super quick last night, so apologies for any errors!

tag list 🫶🖤 - @bearwithegg @jacaerysgf @lenasvoid @valdezthg @xzydra11 @snixx2088 @lianna75 @kennafild @ghostinvenus @heystaystray @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @a-song-for-ages @nixtape-foryou @kezibear

[m0chisenpai]

maitress

˚｡⋆ the vampire armand x black!fem!reader

in which armand may be the maitre, but every king needs a queen.

The troupe bustled and moved in organized chaos. Electricity filled the air it tickled her veins, tonight was special. Claudia couldn't explain it, the blood sabbath felt intoxicating. The acting was on par with what was held at the royal opera. Was someone of importance watching?

She did not know and as she made her trek up the wooden steps from the Wet Room, the room went still.

“Beautiful work in the previous night my children, my heart might have leapt for a moment.” The velveteen voice wrapped around a Claudia’s mind. She closed her eyes, she could feel the owners voice as though she were next to her. And it seemed her voice was made known to all, because the room went still.

It was as though her presence were in the center of the room. Claudia could see her, but not, her face unknown to her. Her eyes cut to Louis, but they are glossed over, looking and searching for this source of comfort.

She could feel her arm hold her into her side, like a mother. Her hand settled on the back of her neck, finger playing with a curl and letting it bounce free. “And I have no doubt our young new puce is hard at work as well, we need more bright young minds here. Dear Claudia.”

"I look forward to seeing each of you all for tonight's hunt, I've a special treat for our American friends."

Then it was gone. Santiago let out a low groan placing his hand onto his chest, “her voice does wonders. I could listen to it for the rest of my days.”

Armand clapped his hands together snapping them out the trance. “You heard the maitress! Let us not disappoint and puce I hope her words lit an inspiration in you as well.” Claudia bowed her head, leaving through the wings and down the steps.

Claudia buffed and shined the casket of the acting troupe, her ears trained onto the post-show critiquing taking place above. She huffed sitting back on her knees. She was so close, just a little more enduring and she would join the theatre. And with a little persuasion her companion would join.

But Louis was 'fine' with sitting behind the scenes.

Claudia allowed her hands to wander the vanity, covered in treasures. The bottles of perfume glistened in the lights, and a bouquet of deep red roses sat nestled with note inside. scattered sheets of plays more covered in red than actual written words filled the space. A photo of Armand tucked in the mirror beside another note, the ink clearly fresh. She went to open it, to see just who was-

“Puce!” She jumped back dropping the letter back onto vanity. Sam now stood behind her, a scowl on his face like many nights.

“That is for maitress” the apprentice playwright breathed, lovingly looking up to the portrait as thought it were God himself up there. Though Sam was a brilliant playwright, the man was a horrible gossip. If you knew the right words, knew how to get him started then all you’d need is to sit back and let him spill his guts.

“How long has she been here?”

“She was one of the first to be chosen by maitre. No one knows how, but they say her first role was a testament to her story” Sam dropped his voice to a hush looking up. Santiago was wrapping up. So he lured the young puce in.

“Some say, she is the maitre’s one and only fledgling.” Claudia’s eyes widen. And before a slew of questions could come out, he swept the stack of papers in his arms smacking them on the cluttered wooden table.

“No more gossip for you puce! Make sure her area is well kept and don't touch her writing, she bit my finger off last time.” Claudia quickly went to work putting the make up and perfumes in the right places of the vanity.

She made her way to deposit the costumes to the be cleaned when her eyes catch a figure, lying across Armand's bed.

Her eyes concealed by a tinted round pair of fold rimmed glasses, and hands moving with her speech. She wore a pair of high waisted slacks with a dark red blouse tucked in. Her hair was thick and pulled to sit an simple updo with a patterned scarf tied.

Back and forth she paced the small room with a script in hand, taking the frames off to toss onto the cluttered desk along with the script.

"Santiago really needs to stop screwing Estelle, you can tell he is. He gets so boring on stage" she grumbled, holding her hand out to receive a cigarette from Armand and standing still for him to light it.

"The little American beauty is adorable" She called out, by now Armand has begun to smoke from his own cigarette, moving to stop her in her steps and pull her atop his lap on the bed. "I wish I could have seen their arrival."

"Yes she has that bite you had in your early years here." Her maroon lips turn upward as she cups his jaw.

"But your words cut deeper," his voice whispers now holding her hand to press into his cheek. Gentle kisses upon her wrist make her eyes flutter shut until he bites. As he feeds, her eyes look outward. Locking with Claudia's wide ones

Her blood is sweeter than anything he has tasted. Armand would drink from her alone for the rest of his existence if he could. He moves her off to lie among the pillows.

Her throat bared to him. His body covers her, his face face now buried in her neck where he bites her high enough where no shirt may cover.

"I suggest you finish your chores now, puce."

Claudia quickly steps away, her heart pounds against her chest as she quickly makes her way into the costume room. She would never forget those cold green eyes, staring into her own.

Back in the bedroom, she slips Armand onto his back. Straddling His waist. There is no protest in his eyes. Only a burning desire, had she demanded his heart in this moment he’d give to her at any moment. She gazes down at him, with a tilt to her head.

"You know I prefer to be on top, my beautiful Arun."

"Yes, maitress."

[wreckingtickles]

Ruffling Their Feathers

Bakugo and Todoroki are captured by the double-crossing Hawks, and they happen to have the second half of a code he and Dabi want. Hawks has a very... unconventional idea on how to get them to talk.

Characters: Lees Baku + Todo, ler Hawks (minor ler Dabi)

Words: 7,312

Couldn't find a similar picture for Todoroki (I need an archive of MHA characters looking might ticklish), so Bakugo's footer will have to do.

That frown's going away real soon.

Very intense and barely SFW foot tickles below the cut!

“It’s your fault!”

“It’s no one’s fault. We couldn’t have known that there was a traitor in the squad.”

Bakugo and Todoroki’s latest one-sided argument, a staple of their relationship since the provisional license course, was caused by their capture at the hands of the League of Villains.

It had all begun with a typo. They were supposed to be at the agency by 15:15, but the message they received instructed them to be there at 14:15. So they’d arrived just in time to see Hawks download the codes to the heroes’ secret communications channel, only half of which was given to each team.

They didn’t remember much else prior to waking up in that square, empty room, seated side by side facing the door that would usher in who knew what horrors.

The irritation at being taken out so easily was compounded by their inability to access their Quirks, which had them more than a little worried, as did their restraints: their wrists were fitted through two holes in the middle of a set of stocks that also held their ankles, one at either side of their hands, so they were hunched forward with their knees bent. The most concerning part, however, was the fact that on top of every part of their costumes that could be used as a weapon or contain hidden gadgets, their boots had also been removed and each of their toes pulled back and restrained individually, just barely out of reach of their fingers. It didn’t need a genius to surmise that if they couldn’t break out soon, they would be tortured.

Bakugo badly needed someone to blame, and Todoroki was the perfect anvil to his hammer. But the half-and-half hero wouldn’t need to wait for his crabby companion to run out of steam as Dabi and Hawks walked into the room.

“Hello, boys!” said Hawks cheerfully, greeting them as if they’d just come across each other in a shopping center.

“Fuck you, you disgusting two-faced piece of shit!”

“Traitor,” greeted Todoroki.

“I appreciate you’re angry and disappointed, but understand that, from my perspective, your good intentions are getting in the way of true justice,” explained Hawks, mostly to Todoroki, as Bakugo’s barrage of epithets made conversation with him impossible.

Dabi leaned against the wall next to the door, both glaring at Todoroki.

“Now, let me reassure you that your Quirks aren’t gone forever. We only take drastic measures if they’re strictly necessary,” explained the feathered villain.

“Your father will still have a use for you,” uttered Dabi with a venomous grin. “That is, unless we choose to ruin you for good.”

“Come on, Dabi, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar!”

“And you kill more moths with fire.” A blue flame appeared in his palm, the sight of which finally silenced Bakugo. “So?���

“If my methods don’t work, you’re free to have your way with them,” conceded Hawks. “But I know it will. I tested them. Leave this to me.”

“Forget it. You’re an idiot and you’re wasting everybody’s time. The only reason we’re doing it your way for now is that Shigaraki put you in charge of their interrogation, and that’s only because he doesn’t know about your ridiculous plan.”

“Shouldn’t you have had this discussion before coming in here?” interjected Todoroki.

Dabi glared, taking a step towards Todoroki, who gave a start.

Bakugo gave him the side eye. He shouldn’t be showing fear. But Dabi had stopped his advance, a nonplussed look on his face, while Todoroki kept fidgeting next to Bakugo.

Before Bakugo could wonder what was happening, his head whipped forward with alarm as he felt something on his right foot. A light, insistent pressure moving up his sole, heel to toes, then back down. He hafted in place, but no matter how much he stretched his fingers, he couldn’t even reach his toes.

What was that?!

“As I was saying,” resumed Hawks, stepping closer to the captives, wings beginning to unfurl, “I need the second half of the code for the agency’s comms, and you guys will give it to us.”

“Or?” spat Bakugo, Todoroki growing more restless next to him. He saw a red feather detach itself from the top of Hawks’s left wing and fly through the air towards him, specifically towards his left foot, where it began to move erratically, dragging its plumes across his arch. But even though Bakugo now understood what the pressure on both of his soles was, it didn’t click for him until Hawks said, “I’ll tickle it out of you.”

Bakugo should have been relieved. They weren’t going to hurt them, at least for the time being. But all he could feel was outraged, outraged that Hawks seriously thought that they’d sell out the pros over something so childish, so insignificant. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Just because it’s so easy for you to sell out, do you really think--"

And then he heard it. A chuckle. Not from Hawks, not even from Dabi. From Todoroki. To his left, Todoroki was jerking his legs, his face scrunched in an attempt to stifle an obvious smile and the sounds of mirth that were trying to spill out of his mouth.

Bakugo felt betrayed for the second time that day. “You gotta be shitting me.” 

Todoroki could feel every plume, every tiny barb on the tip of each of those two feathers as it bent to fit the curve of his sole, dozens, hundreds of them being dragged up and down the bottom of his straight, slim feet.

Hawks smirked while Dabi looked transfixed, almost as speechless as Bakugo. “Well, well, look at Endeavor’s prized spawn now,” he commented as he allowed the corner of his lip to curl up ever so slightly.

“Dude, for real?!” whined Bakugo, but Todoroki couldn’t answer, as he kept squirming and whipping his head side to side, his eyes scrunched shut.

“I, I cahan’t h-hehelp it!” whine the half-and-half hero, instantly regretting trying to speak as he had to double his efforts to prevent any even more embarrassing sounds from coming out. Having grown up with a criminally abusive father and having been separated from his siblings, the only person who had tickled him for most of his life was his mother, and a long time had gone by since the last time. Then, when he began attending UA, first Deku and then Kirishima allowed Todoroki to discover that he was, in fact, still ticklish, and very much so, as if he had never been inured to it, which also led to another crucial difference between him and Bakugo: while the latter wouldn’t allow himself to laugh unless his very worst spots were targeted (though his poker face was terrible), Todoroki was completely unable to cope with the sensation and stifle his reactions.

And the two feathers were barely trying at all.

“Your ‘method’ doesn’t seem to be working on the other one,” observed Dabi. Sure, watching Endeavor’s son squirm from something so silly was entertaining, but they were supposed to move out as soon as Shigaraki called them, and to have the information by then.

“Of course it doesn’t fucking work, who do you think you’re dealing with?!”

Hawks shrugged. “I can also do this.”

“Like this stupid fucking thing is going to work oHOn--!” 

Bakugo bit his tongue when the plume ends of the feathers were replaced by their sharp quills.

“That silenced him? Good,” remarked Dabi.

“D-Don’t be an idiot, t-this is nothing!!” protested Bakugo, wincing when the feathers scratched at the ball of his foot.

Next to him, Todoroki went on eeping with his eyes scrunched shut. He didn’t have so strong an opinion as Bakugo on which method was worse yet, but both were proving quite effective, especially when the feathers trailed up and down his arches.

“I think you heard him,” Dabi told Hawks, suddenly appearing a lot more into it than before.

“I sure did,” claimed Hawks as he grinned at Bakugo a moment before a flock of feathers flew off his wings and swarmed the captives’ soles.

“TCH!!” escaped Bakugo’s lips, his cheeks puffed up and becoming a deeper shade of red every second.

Todoroki skipped the giggling phase entirely. “Noahahahahahahahahahahahahhaaha!!!! Iihihihhihit tihihihicklehehehehehsss!!!!” he protested, a surprisingly innocent expression of mirthful suffering on his face that would have melted anyone’s heart. Anyone’s, but his current tickler’s.

“You really should have kept your mouth shut,” commented Dabi as he shot the beet-red, thrashing Bakugo an amused grin, voicing Todoroki’s thoughts while the trainee was too busy failing to cope with the onslaught of sensation.

Hawks was thorough. There was a feather sawing between the heroes’ toes and swiping at the stems, while the tip of another ran left and right across their base. There was a quill scratching at the center of the ball and spiraling outward and another outlining the underside. Plumes teased the inner part of the instep while another feather ran up and down the arch, and two more focused on the heel and its conjunction with the arch.

The feathers on Bakugo’s feet all used their quill end, save for the ones sawing between his toes, while the ones working Todoroki over mixed and matched approaches. It was the weirdest and most humiliating display of masterful control over one’s Quirk that either trainee had ever experienced.

Unbridled laughter spilled forth from Todoroki, the variety of methods and the multiplicity of spots under fire subjecting him to a sensation that he’d only started to reacquaint himself with a few months prior thanks to his classmates, who’d been delighted to discover that the serious golden child was super ticklish and didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest. 

His left foot was proving to be once again more sensitive than the right, though even just the latter would have been enough to turn him into a hysterical mess. The colder sole was not as vulnerable to the plumes as the left, upon which plumes and quills wreaked twinned havoc.

Seeing the trainee writhe like he was experiencing actual torture sparked a miasma of disgust in the pit of Dabi’s stomach. “Endeavor’s son just gave up, uh,” he mocked. “I’m kind of disappointed.” Yet the amused twinkle in his eye gave the lie to his bored tone.

“He really laughs like he’s never been tickled before,” chuckled Hawks, effortlessly multitasking while putting the two aspiring heroes through their paces. “Guess his home life wasn’t the best. Well, we’re going to make him real happy unless he fesses up.”

The miasma began to lift as Dabi contemplated Todoroki’s helplessness in the face of the ridiculous torment. But if his laughter sparked conflicting feelings of contempt and morbid fascination in the villain, Bakugo was far less ambivalent about how he felt about it.

He loathed it. He truly did. He wanted to punch the hero for letting those degenerates think that… that preposterous, humiliating method would work. Todoroki’s hilarity was peer-pressuring him into giving in as well, surrendering to the overpowering invitation of the over a dozen quills searing his nerves, loosening the locks on his lungs and lips from which a cacophony of grunts, snorts, and even embarrassing yelps slipped out, but no laughter, no, no laughter, it if was the last thing he did!!

What Dabi and Hawks saw was an extremely ticklish guy bellowing and writhing like he was being electrocuted.

“He really hates it,” deadpanned Dabi.

Having an already solid grasp on what made the short-fused trainee tic despite having known him for a few days only, Hawks took that chance to say, “I don’t know if I should be impressed that he’s not laughing his head off despite being so ticklish, or pity him for thinking that he’s fooling anyone.”

“KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! GHHHHHHHH!!! SH-SHHUUUUUUUTTT-- NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Nope, no talking.

Hawks’s smirk grew a little wider. It’d be so easy to crack him. But… “It would be healthier if you let it out, you look like you’re about to pop a vein,” he recommended as he had his feathers move slightly faster. Dabi didn’t notice the shift except through the rise in pitch in Todoroki’s laughter and Bakugo’s pointless struggling growing even more desperate.

If only they could reach their feet, shield them from the pesky feathers, they were right there, just out of reach!!

Suddenly, the tickling slowed down. None of the feathers left their post, but they eased up enough that the terribly ticklish captives would be able to understand Hawks’s next words.

“M-Motherf--" Bakugo tried to say while catching his breath, allowing some of his contracted muscles to relax, but he couldn’t risk getting the entire word out.

Todoroki’s laughter decreased to a steady stream of breathless giggles. The tears at the corners of his half-closed eyes, the blush on his cheeks, the forced yet carefree-looking smile… Hawks had to admit that he looked precious.

“Now, let’s practice loosening your tongues a little,” Hawks started, pacing around them like a drill sergeant. “I assume neither of you wants to spill the beans yet?”

Bakugo lunged at him with a bite, but Hawks was out of reach.

“Baby steps. So I’ll make you an offer. If you tell me where it tickles the most I promise I will be nice…r.”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow. Really?

Hawks nodded back confidently, stopping in front of the two trainees. “You don’t want me to find out on my own.”

Bakugo and Todoroki glared as well as they could under their present circumstances.

“Any takers?” Hawks asked nonchalantly.

Even Todoroki made a show of clenching his jaw, although sputtering giggles soon leaked out.

“Too bad,” sighed Hawks. “For you, I mean.”

Without warning, the eight feathers tormenting each foot converged on the heel, scribbling madly at and all around the mound.

“Nohohoht agahahahahaahhaahinnn!!!” giggled Todoroki, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried and failed to pull his feet back through the stocks, scrunch up his soles, cover them with his hands, anything.

“TCH! F-Fuhuck t-thihis!!!” snarled Bakugo, his restlessness mirroring Todoroki’s but with a more irate tinge.

“Hey Dabi, wanna compare and contrast?” asked Hawks.

“Leave me out of it.”

“I thought Todoroki was the most ticklish of the two, but I’m not so sure anymore,” said Hawks, knowing how to push Bakugo’s buttons.

“GGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“I can’t really tell. Let’s try the arch.”

The avian congregation climbed a little higher, up the slope of the arch. About half of the feathers harassing Todoroki switched to sawing their plumes up and down his arch, left and right, while Bakugo, whom Hawks knew to be less responsive to this method, got the full sixteen quills.

“Ohohohohohoh nohohoOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!! NOOOOHAHHAHAHAAT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEREEEEE!!!”

Todoroki’s giggling once again morphed into full-blown laughter, the loudest as of yet. Though the strength behind his attempts to break free seemed to have waned before, he redoubled his futile efforts, pulling at his wrists and ankles as if it would save him, or somehow make the sensation more bearable.

“Looks like I’ve found a sweet spot,” gloated Hawks, but he wasn’t content with that apparent victory. He carefully observed Todoroki’s body language, noticing that every few seconds, he would lean to the right, until his energy ebbed and he slumped forward again, only to repeat the maneuver moments later as the feathers completed another pass. He didn’t seem to be trying to lean closer to Bakugo, no, there was something else… afoot. And Hawks thought he knew exactly what that was.

But that wasn’t all that he noticed. Bakugo had lowered his head, no doubt to prevent the villains from seeing his expression - as if his body wasn't eloquent enough. That position would only hinder his breathing, depleting his stamina faster and making it even harder to endure a prolonged attack. Hawks wondered if he was even aware of the high-pitched whine, like the wind-up to a scream, that he was emitting as he desperately tried to keep his mouth closed. But the most interesting part was how Bakugo would occasionally freeze up for a moment when the quills hit the very top of the arch, only for him to kick with both legs an instant later.

Hawks tested his theory by having the feathers linger on that spot a couple of seconds longer than they did during previous passes. Sure enough, Bakugo’s purple face shot up for a moment, the curses he wanted to utter dying into a defeated growl.

Hawks knew he could have broken him simply by staying there, but he had a flair for the dramatic. So he moved the feathers to the center of the arch, renewing Todoroki’s hysterical fit, before abruptly moving all the feathers to the balls of the heroes’ feet.

Bakugo’s head shot up again, this time to hurl a fiery glare at Hawks, equal parts incredulity and betrayal, but really, a recognition that breaking had always been inevitable.

“Three…” chanted Hawks, smiling at Bakugo, whose face looked like it was about to burst open.

“Tw--"

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLL KIIIIIHIHIHIILLLL YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUHUHUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAA!!”

“Oh wow. When he breaks, he breaks hard,” remarked Hawks, pretending to cover one of his ears. Dabi ignored him, though he caught him sneaking glances at Todoroki, whose hysteria was eclipsed by the violence with which Bakugo’s damn had burst, but ever-present nonetheless.

There was no overselling the all-encompassing loathing that Bakugo felt at that moment, having fallen short of his own self-serving standards. It simply did not compute that a traitor who had everything Bakugo wanted would torture them in such a childish way, and that Bakugo would be unable to shrug it off.

The quills pricked and scratched at the sensitive pads, with a special regards for the very center as Hawks had immediately figured out it was one of the most sensitive parts, lavishing plenty of attention on the underside too, the perfect recipe to keep the resentful laughter flowing.

“FUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCCKKK!!! YOHOHOUUHUHUHU BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTAHAHAHAHARD!!! ILL KIIIIII-- STOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAPPPP THAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHATTTT!!!”

“This is great,” chuckled Hawks.

“You’re weird.”

Hawks shrugged. “Eh, it’s just fun to take them down a peg. Especially that one. Hey, are you laughing too hard to hear me? ‘Cause later, we’re spending plenty of time on that spot that you seem to like so much.”

Sadly, Bakugo could hear him, but any retort he tried to cook up got swallowed by the involuntary gales that those tiny, harmless feathers kept pumping out of him.

Though the journey from the ball of his foot to the toes was a very short one, Bakugo could tell Hawks was trying to drag it out as much as possible, slowly dragging the quills as well. There was an understanding that he wasn’t done.

The feathers then began sawing between and across the trainees’ toes. This method proved especially effective on Todoroki, the obvious jolt running through him confirming that that was a more sensitive spot than the ball, so Hawk kept five feathers per foot swishing between and along his toes while three more scratched at the base, occasionally poking the tips too.

But Hawks knew that he could do better with Bakugo, so he kept one quill poking and scribbling under the base of each toe, with the plume end of just one feather swishing across the stems, one quill planted firmly in the center of his big toe, and one more poking each of the other tips in turn.

The trainees didn’t have the chance to marvel at Hawks’s unmatched coordination, the combination of precision and effectiveness he was unleashing on them, but they certainly did feel its effects.

“Hahahaha HAHAHAAHAH!!! Nohohohohhoho moHOHOHohohahahahahaharrEHEHEHEHE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahaahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahaha!!!” pleaded Todoroki, ticklish tears pouring down his cheeks and collecting on his seat between his legs. He felt as if he’d been abducted by aliens, unable to comprehend what was happening to him or why. Part of him probably felt embarrassed, but the shock, the absurdity of it all, removed his ego from the equation, leaving him alone before a sensation he’d only experienced a handful of times through his classmates, and through his mother so many years prior.

Bakugo wasn’t faring that much better. He was naturally louder than Todoroki, but for the first time in his life, he was trying to keep it down, and failing. Hawks couldn’t have devised a better method to tickle that area.

“HAHAHahahaahahahahaha!!! FIHIHIHIHght mehehEHEHEHE liiiihihihiKEEEHEHEH AAHAHAHA maaaahahahahahahahAAAAAHAHAHAHANNN!! OHOHOHO hahahahahahaha!!!”

“You want to fight me?” Hawks snickered. “I don’t fight widdle tickly babies.”

“SHHUUUUUUHAHAHAHAHAT!! UUHUHUUHAHAHAHAHAHHAPPP!!!!”

Oh, the sheer frustration Bakugo felt at his own ticklishness preventing him from discharging his anger was immense, but the imposed hilarity sapped even that.

Hawks walked around to his side. “It tickles less than before, right? I’m sure you can stop laughing if you really try. Come on!”

Bakugo was trying, he was trying so hard, and Hawks’s mockery messed even more with his concentration. But the genie was out of the bottle.

“HaahahahaHAHAHAHAHAH!!! ………….PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAahaahahahahahaha!!! NNNNNNNNGGGggggghhhhhh…………. ggggghAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Hawks began to circle around them, removing his black leather gloves as he did so. “Remember that this all will stop if you give me the code.”

He stopped in front of the stocks, throwing his gloves to Dabi, who reflexively caught them in mid-air and then dropped them.

He wiggled his fingers mere inches away from their feet. He waited long enough for them to see it, his left hand approaching Bakugo’s left sole, his right nearing Todoroki’s right, only to drift further to the side, to the left sole he’d determined to be more sensitive.

 “Don’t forget, this hawk has talons too.” And he struck.

Dabi nearly gave a start as the room got a lot louder than he’d expected.

“NOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! IHIHIHIHIHITT TIHIHIHHICKLEHEHEHESSSS!!! DOOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHN’T!!!”

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIHIHIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!! KEEHEHEHP YOUHUR FUHUHUHUHCKING HAHAHAHAHANDS… NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

True to his word, Hawks had chosen violence. His short, dull nails scratched expertly at the ball of Bakugo’s foot and at the arch of Todoroki’s, having identified them as their weakest spots.

The volume and desperation of their laughter was all the confirmation he needed.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! YOUHUHUHHUHU CAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHANNN’T!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“BWAHAHAHWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IHIHIHHILL KIHIHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! CUHUHUT THAHAHAHAHAT OOOOOHUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA!!! I SAHAHAHAHD-- NAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

The feathers didn’t remain idle either. He left five on Todoroki’s right foot to complement the motions of his fingers, so they’d target his toes when he was busy with the arch, and the arch when he was busy with his toes, while the eleven on the left flitted back and forth between those two spots, skidding up and down the ball as well as they changed posts.

Hawks was no kinder to Bakugo, his wiggling fingers focusing on the ball and the base of his toes together with three feathers. The remaining fifteen ravaged the same two spots on his right foot, especially the center and underside of the pad. Naturally, all used their quill end.

It was pinpoint torment neither trainee knew how to deal with, Hawks’s dexterous touches appearing to raise the temperature and depleting their stamina and sanity alike while they felt their dignity slowly but sonorously leak out in the form of laughter they couldn’t control, the traitor having completely hijacked their ability to express themselves.

“As you can see, I’m a man of my word,” began Hawks. “Am I not?”

“EHEHEHHNOHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGH!!! PLEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHASEEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHHA!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCK!!!”

“You gotta say it if you want me to stop. I’m a man of my word, am I not?”

Todoroki wasn’t completely opposed to indulging villains in case it made them complacent, while Bakugo’s ego was bound to get in the way of any concession. However, Todoroki’s reply was not the result of a calculation, but mere reflex.

“HAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! YEEEHAHAHAHAHAHHASSSS!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAA!!!”

“He needs to say it too,” hummed Hawks, nodding his head toward Bakugo while his fingers picked up the pace.

Bakugo too was operating on reflex alone, and his instincts were inimical to their predicament.

“GHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! EHEHEHEHHAT SHHAHHAHAHAAHHAAHT!!! FUUHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAHAHACCCK!!!!”

“You hear that, Todoroki? My hands are tied. Well, yours are. And your feet too. Which makes it so easy for me to do this,” he explained as the feathers also began to move faster and the motions of his hands grew more unpredictable.

Todoroki all but howled. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! BAHAHAHAHAHAAHKUUUUGOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASEEE!!!”

“SHIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAATTTTT!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHCKIHIHING TRAHAHAHAHAHITAHAHAHAHHAAR!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

“Listen to your friend. Help him help you.” His nails moved to the ball of Bakugo’s right foot, the feathers instantly moving to compensate. 

Bakugo arched his back with such force the stocks creaked. “GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAH!!! SHIHIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!!! STAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAPP! YOOOHUHU GOOHAHAHAHAHAHTTTTAAAAA STOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!”

“I don’t gotta do anything. Say it. I’m a man of my word.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!”

“Suit yourself. I’ll try again in 10 more minutes.”

The horror in their teary eyes and strained laughter was instantly apparent.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAT!!! YEEEEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSS!!! YOHAHAHAHAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAREEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAHAP STAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

And Hawks did. He stepped away from them while the feathers floated to a safer distance.

The trainees heaved and panted, their lungs burning and their throats parched, Bakugo slumped backwards, Todoroki forward as if he was collapsing in on himself.

“This is pathetic. The whole thing,” remarked Dabi.

Hawks shrugged. “I don’t enjoy needless violence. And pathetic or not, it seems to be working wonders.”

“If - no, when you fail and Shigaraki hears this is how you’ve been wasting our time…”

“I won't fail. Just look at them,” claimed Hawks, though one corner of his smile was frozen. He clapped his hands, addressing the flushed heroes again. “Now, listen close. I’m going to start tickling you again soon.”

Bakugo winced and shot a feeble glare at hawks, a pitiful attempt to disguise fear as intimidation, while Todoroki’s shoulders slumped as he prepared himself for the inevitable.

“That’s the stick. Now, here’s the carrot. I’ll stop tickling whichever of you gives me the code. The other gets these,” he announced as he began to rummage in his costume, a ruse to give both trainees time to focus on him once again and grew more apprehensive.

He then pulled out two mundane items: a fork, and Bakugo’s orange hairbrush.

“I got these while I was waiting for Dabi,” he said, moving the two items slightly, the trainees’ eyes following them with wariness. Too easy.

“The one who spills the beans doesn’t have to find out how much they tickle. The other…”

He put the two tools back inside his utility belt.

“Anyone got anything to say?”

Bakugo and Todoroki looked at each other. Todoroki looked like he’d been running for an hour, endurance having never been his strong suit, but Bakugo begin to wonder whether he would actually cave. There was something in the half-and-half hero’s stare, some kind of request maybe. He couldn’t be about to come clean, could he? Or… was he trying to encourage him to resist?

The thought made Bakugo’s blood boil even though a rivulet of sweat already drenched the back of his costume. Did Todoroki really think that he might call it quits? That he was that weak?

But Bakugo didn’t have the energy to fight, so he just averted his gaze, fixing it on the stocks on the other side of which were his all too tender feet and useless hands.

Hawks tutted. “Too bad. Hawks, would you set a 10-minute timer? We’re getting serious now.”

He didn’t give the trainees time to brace themselves before striking.

His fingers got to work on the same spots as before, though he targeted Todoroki’s right foot rather than his left, and the sixteen feathers he’d been using on each trainee struck at every vulnerable part of that same foot as two horrifying new implements joined the interrogation: Hawks’s wings.

Todoroki shrieked. The amalgamation of feathers which Hawks could animate at will was an ebullient blanket of ticklishness, the plumes coming alive to tease the entirety of Todoroki’s sole in an all-encompassing attack that effortlessly reached between his toes and the sides and even the top of his foot as well. Hundreds or thousands of feathers, exponentially more barbs, and Todoroki could feel them all.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Hawks had threatened the trainees with the hairbrush and fork, but he knew his wing would be just as if not more devastating to the criminal No. 1’s son. He also stiffened the feathers of his left wing since Bakugo was not as sensitive to light touches, and he lacked the bandwidth to remotely control any more feathers without sacrificing accuracy…

Which is why, not even a minute in, the hawk turned 90° and swished at Todoroki’s soles with both wings, while both of his talons pounced on the balls of Bakugo’s feet.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! YOU FUHAHAHAHAHHAHACKHEHEHHEHR THAHAHAHAT’S UNFAAFAFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Bakugo’s unprecedented cackling was met with Todoroki falling into a choked silence. Sensory overload.

Not even that was able to shut Bakugo up, but the dedicated fingers, accompanied by the sixteen that had been hounding him for a while plus the extra sixteen that migrated over from Todoroki, melted his protests into desperate incoherence, about half the quills matching the movements of Hawks’s fingers to crowd his weakest spots as much as possible.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOOOOOOOHUHUHUHUHU!!!! SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-- I CAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Despite what he’d told Dabi, Hawks couldn’t believe how well the two trainees were responding. He was relieved that this harmless method might actually buy him enough time. He just hoped--

Todoroki’s own laughter returned as a whine, which only served to remind Hawks to divide his attention more equally between the two of them. Though by virtue of being the only one he could see from his position, Bakugo was bound to get the shorter end of the stick. He could stand to be taken down a peg, Hawks told himself as he looked into the young hero’s bulging, tear-filled eyes, fractured babble interspersing the hysterical peals.

Those eternal ten minutes weren’t simply meant to break them, no. Hawks’s Quirk wasn’t merely about moving his feathers: he could feel through them. He noticed that Todoroki’s left foot was warmer than usual, and his right colder, which gave him an idea; and he also noticed that Bakugo’s feet were getting damper and slicker the more he tickled him, which gave him another. He’d keep them safe from Dabi even if he had to tickle them into unconsciousness to do it.

“Time’s up,” muttered Dabi, more invested than he’d ever admit.

“Is it? Eh, I’ll just keep going,” yelled Hawks to give the trainees a chance to hear him. Todoroki let out something that vaguely sounded like a sob, while Bakugo was too preoccupied with the fingers and feathers to respond.

But when he noticed Dabi getting more impatient, Hawks did finally take a step back and allowed the trainees to breathe. Their chests heaving, their hair weighed down by perspiration, the fight had been tickled out of Bakugo, while Todoroki looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“You know, I’ve gone about this all wrong,” he announced. “Dabi, I’m going to need your help.”

“Forget it.”

“I need your Quirk.” He pointed his thumb at Bakugo, who made an effort to listen and was rewarded with a shiver. “I need you to keep his feet close to the fire.”

“Finally,” huffed Dabi as he began to stride toward Bakugo, who recoiled in horror.

“You aren’t hurting him. There’s one last thing I want to try,” explained Hawks. “See, I remember that his Quirk is based around sweat, and he seems to keep getting more ticklish over time. So I just need a little bit of heat.”

“You’re joking.”

“They’re about to cave, and I’ll give you all the credit. By the way, I suspect your Quirk would also do wonders on his right side,” he added, pointing at Todoroki this time.

“Unbelievable,” scoffed Dabi. Yet, sure enough, two small blue flames appeared in his palms. Bakugo winced.

“Farther,” commanded Hawks. Dabi rolled his eyes, but complied again. 

It was warm, very warm, but not painful. Bakugo had followed a word in three, but he knew he shouldn’t be too happy about the heat displacing the phantom tickles that still tormented his soles.

“Now, where was I? Right. I’ve gone about this all wrong, because there’s two of you, and one code. I’ve been splitting my attention, but I only need to break one of you. So…”

He rested a hand on the top of Todoroki’s shoulder, the exhausted hero regarding him with… Bakugo hadn’t expected it, but there were embers of defiance left in Todoroki’s alarmed scowl.

“I’m going to focus on you, and only you, until one of you fesses up or, frankly, you pass out. Would be a first, but I kind of want to see that. And if that happens, luckily we have a spare.”

“You’re not… going to get… away with this,” panted Todoroki. Bakugo had definitely underestimated him.

Hawks gave him an empty smile. “You’d better hope I do, ‘cause if I don’t, Dabi gets to have fun with you, and he likes his meat well done.”

He clapped a hand on Todoroki’s back, who recoiled under his touch. “If you’re worried about saving face, maybe your friend will speak up for you. He looks like the empathetic kind,” jested Hawks.

Todoroki glanced at Bakugo, currently in the process of glaring at Dabi. He took a deep breath to brace himself.

Hawks walked around him, a solid half of each wing detaching itself and floating to the other side of the stocks. “Last chance,” he whispered in Todoroki’s ear.

“Drop dead,” spat Todoroki.

So Hawks struck. Not with the feathers, however. No, while Todoroki was distracted by the wings positioning themselves right in front of his feet, the tips of the feathers already grazing his soles, Hawks’s hands slipped under Todoroki’s jacket and find purchase in the skin of his sides underneath.

Bakugo saw a look of utter bewilderment cross Todoroki’s face before hysteria overwrote his features completely.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHHAHAT’S NOHOHOT… OH MY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHAHAT’S NOHOHOOOOHOHOT FAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAIIIRR!!!” he screamed, accidentally echoing Bakugo.

“I thought I remembered this!” said a self-satisfied Hawks. “Two for two, uh? Man, did the doctors just take the two most ticklish halves of you and glued them together?” he teased as his fingers kept kneading into Todoroki’s swimmer-like flanks, the thumb pressing deep into the soft tissue and discovering the muscle underneath that stretched all the way to his toned stomach.

“GHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! EHEHEHEHENOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHGHHH!!!”

He squirmed in his seat with newfound vigor, though he wasn’t getting away from Hawks’s prying fingers, sometimes digging hard into his sides, sometimes gently brushing his nails up and down. He leaned so hard to the left that for a moment Bakugo worried he might dislodge his shoulder.

“Look at you trying to squirm away,” cooed Hawks. “Is it because your right side is more sensitive? I think it is. Let’s see if I can find another jackpot up here on the left side,” he continued as he began clawing at the left side of Todoroki’s stomach ,who sucked it in and remained breathless for a moment, but just a moment before laughter poured out again.

“Umh, maybe a bit better, but not a homerun… How about here?”

He spidered his fingers up and down the trainee’s ribcage, a view that despite being partially concealed by Todoroki’s jacket, which rode up to show the lower part of his stomach, caused Bakugo to instinctively lean forward to shield his own ribs with his elbows.

Todoroki’s laughter was still positively frantic as Hawks’s other hand never left his right side, but he didn’t seem satisfied. “Maybe here?” he ventured as he pushed his fingers further up, squeezing his way into Todoroki’s damp underarm.

The trainee recoiled.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAAHT THHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHRRREEEEE!!! TOOOOOOHOHOHOH!!! GHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

“And here it is!” gloated Hawks, Todoroki trying to clamp down his arms and only succeeding in trapping the offending fingers where he really didn’t want them.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!!”

“That’s close enough, I’d say!”

“You’ll pay for this,” hissed Bakugo, undeterred by the heat that lapped at his soles, making them more sensitive by the minute.

Without looking away from his handiwork, Hawks retorted, “You should worry about you, because I think he’s about to get smart.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! IIIIIIIIIIII WOOOHOHOHOHN’T TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHEHLLL!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEEEE!!!”

“What use is begging? You know what I want. Or maybe you’re asking for more?”

“GHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHSE PLEEEEHAHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!”

“I have been neglecting your feet, that’s true. I think they’re feeling lonely.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! NOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHEHRE TOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!”

“Well, they shall cry no longer! Here I gooo!” exclaimed Hawks as his severed wings fully enveloped Todoroki’s feet.

Bakugo saw Todoroki whip his head to the sky, a lunatic grin frozen on his face, eyes bulging and dripping with tears, and gently swaying back and forth in that position without even being able to make a single sound.

Insane. He looked insane. Driven to insanity by fingers and a bunch of feathers. Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He even considered giving them the code for a fleeting moment out of concern for his… classmate. But he couldn’t, Todoroki wouldn’t have wanted him to either.

But even deeper at the back of his mind, there was a reminder, a reminder that if Todoroki passed out, or that if he confessed, then Bakugo would be next.

Dabi was also staring unabashedly. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Something that childish, tearing down Endeavor’s heir like that. His fingers itched.

Todoroki wasn’t even aware of the fingers tormenting his upper body or the feathers that had taken total hold of his feet. It was as if the sensation had seeped deep into his core, and from there had radiated outward, breaking down his sense of self and severing his mind from his body to keep it afloat in an ocean of overwhelming giddiness. Later, he wouldn’t even recall whether he’d laughed in the end or not.

He just remembered his consciousness resurfacing at one point, and uttering the six fabled digits as if in a dream.

“NO!!” screeched a costernated Bakugo.

“Thank you kindly,” said Hawks as he stepped away from Todoroki and called back his feathers. “Way to confirm the code, by the way,” he told Bakugo.

But as he was making his way toward the exit…

“Wait.”

Dabi was holding up his burner phone. “It’s not time for our meet-up yet. And I seem to recall you’re a man of his word,” he said, eyeing Bakugo.

Hawks stopped. “I am,” he conceded as he walked towards Bakugo, whose heart was sinking into his stomach for an additional reason now.

“Don’t you fucking get any closer!” warned Bakugo without anything to back up his threat, his implicit plea.

“Won’t you get bored?” Hawks asked Dabi, ignoring his cursing target.

“I’ll manage. His right side is the ice one, right?” he asked as Dabi stopped between Todoroki and Bakugo, reaching one hand on the other side of the stocks. “I want to see fire and ice mix,” he stated before making his fingers slightly warmer and jolting Todoroki out of his stupor.

But Bakugo was unable to pay him any mind, transfixed by Hawks’s single finger inching closer and closer to his left sole. It curled gently.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFU--” exploded out of Bakugo, any hope of rebuilding his façade thanks to the break flying out of the window as that one finger made him acutely aware of how much more impossibly sensitive the heat had made him.

Hawks went on scratching delicately, bringing the finger to the center of the ball as Bakugo flailed left and right. He only stopped long enough to retrieve the brush and the fork. “I love being right.”

“GGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

No, it couldn’t tickle that much, it just couldn’t. The fork traveled from the bottom of his arch all the way to the base of his toes, then down, then up again. The hairbrush was large enough to perfectly scrub the upper half of Bakugo’s foot, the part that Hawks was naturally focusing on, the two tools gliding harmlessly on the impossibly tender surface thanks to the offshoot of Bakugo’s Quirk.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! SSSSSSSSSSSSSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHA!! STASTATSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHA!!!”

“Nah, you had your chance,” said Hawks as he switched the two torture instruments.

Bakugo whipped his head back and forth, if he could he might have banged it on the stocks just to feel something else. And Hawks was unrelenting. Skilled, and unrelenting.

“Weren’t you going to kill me? How are you going to do that? By giggling yourself to death?”

The hard bristles and tines would have scrubbed Bakugo raw if not for his Quirk, but his nerves weren’t any less on fire for it, every ounce of pain having been traded for a different sensation that Bakugo despised even more. But he had no ego left to be bruised, as his entire self was concentrated in his superhumanly sensitive feet, tenderized by the Quirk he was so proud of.

“Now this is an explosion! Oh, you think I’m moving away from the ball? Right where it tickles the most? Oh no no no! I’ll just tickle everywhere else to!”

The part of Bakugo that realized what was about to happen clawed its way to the surface. “NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH! NONONONONOHHHHHH!!!! PLEASESTOPPLEAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEE!!!”

But the myriad quills that descended on every part of his soles not ravaged by the hellish tools didn’t heed his final plea.

With one last boom of maddened laughter, Bakugo was thrust into the same pit that he’d watched Todoroki sink into, utterly, thoroughly destroyed, drooling, crying, but unable to string enough sounds together to grovel.

Humiliation, embarrassment, disappointment were fictions that had been shattered, as the tickling cut to something primal, genuine within him. Who knew that tickling his feet really hard was the key.

“GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! GGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!”

At some point, Bakugo felt himself float up toward the harsh neon light overhead, gurgling nonsense as the room faded back into focus.

“...ease… nno… moohore…”

But Hawks was already on the threshold, with Dabi having already left the room. Bakugo’s head lolled to the side, allowing him to encounter Todoroki’s dim, concerned gaze.

“Thank you boys!” said Hawks cheerfully. “Someone will come pick you up soon. Pleasure doing business with you!”

He slammed the door behind him, leaving the two tickle-drunk trainees in the room alone. 

As his circumstances flooded back to the forefront, Todoroki’s concern pissed him off. “How–” his voice cracked. Water. “How could you?!” He wasn’t quite sure if he was referring to the code, or to what Hawks had put him through after.

Todoroki didn’t respond, but looked at the door. “Ssh.”

He’d… shushed him? That guy had shushed him–

Bakugo’s eyes bulged out of his sockets when he saw Todoroki lift the upper portion of the stocks and slide his sore wrists and ankles out. To safety, to freedom.

Bakugo forgot everything he wanted to yell. “How… When…?!”

“Hawks did it,” whispered Todoroki as he stretched his sore limbs. Bakugo tried to lift his own stocks, and lo and behold, they opened. There was a feather in the lock, which Todoroki grabbed.

Bakugo’s shock was plain on his expression, his smile muscles stiff.

“Didn’t you notice… what Hawks was writing… with his feathers?” asked Todoroki. He took a deep breath as he shuffled towards the door. “He’s on our side. He wants… us to escape and… tell the agency… to change the code.”

Bakugo was still incredulous as the hallway opened up before him.

“Come on,” said Todoroki as he started out of the room.

Bakugo followed him, to be sure. But he was thinking. He hadn’t noticed anything. And if Todoroki knew all along, how much of it had been an act? And if he had put up a show for their captors, so he could convincingly give up the code later… did he think that Bakugo was weak?

Bakugo grunted. Todoroki shot him a puzzled look, but didn’t stop.

He couldn’t allow the half and half bastard to think of him that way. To feel superior. He had to show him who was really the most ticklish.

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part six

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru dreams of you; eagerly awaiting your response. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: cunnilingus, male masturbation. MDNI

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 1,596

𝜗𝜚 an: this update is entirely skippable, and i am requesting minors do not engage with this specific part. adults who are not a fan of explicit smut should skip this part too. the story reads normally with or without this chapter. thank you for respecting my wishes.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

Your quill hits paper once Satoru’s head hits his pillows and the potential contents of your note send his tired mind reeling. It’s only expected for his dreams to contain the potential outcome of your writing. It starts with you - all teary-eyed and sniffly as you scratch down your fears for Satoru’s eyes to consume. You tell him how it terrifies you to make your feelings known to the world and enter the judgmental eyes of the public and through the dark smudges of your ink he sees your blown out pupils - pulling him into your figure through the words on the page. Your body melts from his touch after being apart for so long - your sobs quieting as Satoru soothes you like he’s meant to. His hand finds your hair and he pets you lovingly, hushing your worries. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” his mouth tickles the curve of your ear as he whispers to you. “I won’t let them speak poorly about you,” he clicks his tongue, like the thought of someone daring to talk down on you deeply offends him. “You’re safe with me,” his lips touch your ear as he plants kisses, hands roaming your body to try to remedy your time apart. His words are doing something to you and he knows because he simply knows you too well. You can’t hide the way your body presses against his when he brushes his fingertips against your sensitive skin, exciting the Prince from how responsive you are. He pinches the fabric of your dress, the cotton material turning into luxurious silk that glides between his fingertips. 

His world spins and the two of you are in bed now, the blue night gown adorning your body slowly peels up from his doing, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. “Satoru-” you purr, biting your lip as his hands grab the plump fat of your sides, massaging his fingers into your thighs. You sigh, breath catching when his large palms grab you possessively; working his fingers deep into the muscles of your legs, his thumbs coming dangerously close to where your thighs meet your center - hiccupping as he pays extra attention to the spot that makes your stomach lurch and toes curl. “Satoru-” you whine again, noticing he is using the back of his hands to slowly inch your nightgown higher onto your body, threatening to reveal what’s underneath. You call out his name once more and he revels in the sound; adoring the syrupy tone you use to say his name. It sounds sleepy and desperate, with a hint of uncertainty. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks upon noticing your hesitation; his voice an octave deeper than usual and his eyes as dark as his intentions. His question is a nod back to the first intimate moment you both shared, knowing that you would recognize it too - relying on the pent up emotions of the unsatisfying end to your shared kiss to will you to let him continue. You look back at him, lids heavy with restless desire and he knew you wouldn’t say no. Couldn’t say no. “I’ll go slow,” he promises you, easing your apprehension and allowing you to melt into his touch. He adds his mouth into the mix, leaving slow, sloppy kisses to the skin of your inner thighs and your hips buck from the attention. You’re watching him intently, your unwavering gaze following his every move as he marks your body lovingly. He doesn’t bother to keep it clean - unable to stop his spit from staining your skin as he sloppily kisses your warm body. He makes a move to lift up your nightgown to your belly button - exposing the wet patch of your white panties while Satoru’s face rests between your thighs. He can sense how shy you suddenly become, your hand covering your mouth as you gawk at his blue eyes - glued to your twitching center. His thumb reaches up, cautiously swiping at the wet fabric of your gusset; gauging your reaction. You squirm, letting out a squeak and he continues prodding at your clothed entrance; dragging his knuckle against your folds. Your panties mold to the shape of your plump lips and Satoru shudders. His thumb inches up to your clit, softly circling it and taking note of the way your hips shudder from his curious attention. Satoru had never been with a woman and while he rubbed you through the thin fabric of your silk panties he took note of every curve of your twitching center. All though a virgin; Satoru had enough of a grasp through his extensive research he found in the pages of his favorite erotic literature. He was sure you would enjoy what he wanted to do to you - trusting the words on the pages he studied late at night while picturing you. “Such a beautiful and deserving Princess,” he mumbles, fingers still prodding and rubbing your puffy folds. You jump from the nickname, unsure of the new title he placed on you as he continued his sweet talking. “No one could ever keep this from me,” he spoke, “-and they would die from my hands if they tried,” he promises, eerily serious before leaning in to kiss your cunt; lips pursed against your pulsing clit. He loops his fingers into the gusset of your panties, pulling them down slowly; watching the sweetness pooling from your center sticking to the silk, creating strings while he dragged the article from your center down your legs. He licked his lips, already anticipating what he was going to do - enjoying how you fully trusted him - not asking questions but allowing him to show you just how much he loved you. It’s almost puppy-like the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth and attaches to your clit, dragging the rough muscle against the pearl between your legs. He messily licks, not bothering to make deliberate attacks to your core; instead he can’t help himself from desperately lapping up your juices. His tongue smears his saliva filthily against your wet heat, delving his tongue into your cunt to taste you from the source; groaning as the sweetness graces his taste buds. The saccharine juices do little to slow his mounting desire, causing him to grind his member against the mattress, itching for some kind of release while he gives you yours. He takes a moment to look up at you - your eyes painting the story of your love. Full of adoration, loyalty, lust, and weakness that he recognizes from before his world fell apart. Through his dreams he can feel the dagger of your raw emotion piercing his dormant heart - opening himself up to the reality of what he always knew. He needed you. All of you - and you did too. He was sure of it. He would do whatever it takes to see you look at him that way again.

While his subconscious processes the meaning of you in his dreams he continues performing cunnilingus. His spit trails from his lips while he messily kisses you and you’re squirming - unable to slow the roll of your hips while he repeatedly kisses and licks your sensitive bundle. “I need you,” you needily whine, gripping his white locks and keeping his soft lips attached to your lower pair, moaning breathlessly. “Satoru…” you’re begging and he peeks up at you, dragging his tongue slowly while he waits for you to make your point. “I want you Satoru,” you trail off, chest stuttering with every weak breath you take. Satoru pauses, turning his head to leave chaste kisses to your inner thigh before asking you to use your words. “All of it Satoru,” you cry, “I want all of it. All of you, Satoru,” you beg and he groans loudly, his brain growing fuzzy realizing what you were asking of him. He becomes too enthusiastic though, dick painfully hard and tip weepy - staining his sleep trousers which causes him to stir - regretfully departing him from the sensual scene his mind conjured during his slumber. 

“No!” he chokes out, waking up to a cold bed. His cock pulses regardless of the fact you’re not there and he reaches his hand down, tugging roughly on his length. He bites his lip, the sweaty white strands of his hair stick against his forehead while his taut stomach lurches every time his fist meets his sensitive tip - squeezing it harshly - picturing your squelching cunt instead of his pathetic hand. He reaches his climax quickly, using the visions of you begging for him in his dream to guide him to his peak. He pants while he cums, slowing down his strokes while his hot sperm spurts against his belly. He hisses from the contact - his surroundings slowly coming back to him while he gasps for breaths. He closes his eyes, scrunching them to distract from the feeling of tears starting to pool. 

He craves your body long after his release, unable to get the image of you underneath him out of his mind. And maybe it’s denial or delusion or lunacy or maybe even all three but he knows that is how you truly feel. It has to be. How could it not? How could he be the only one tortured by the absence of his other half? How could you not feel the need between you two that had been there since the beginning. Not just a sexual need - but an emotional and physical need too. The need to touch pinkies…to touch lips. 

He anxiously awaited the contents of your letter. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

taglist: skipping for nsfw updates

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[meownotgood]

cpr. / dan heng x gn!reader, fluff, soft kisses, dan heng teaches you how to do "cpr" (poorly)

I want to teach you the basics of first aid. Come to my room as soon as possible. 

That's it. 

There's no, Would you like to come to my room? or, Learning first aid would be helpful for you, what do you think? Dan Heng is just as to-the-point as the first time you met him, and even though you try to pretend like it gets on your nerves, huffing your complaints to March and texting back an annoyed K, you still find yourself shuffling over to his quiet room on the Astral Express the moment your phone pinged you with the notification. 

You're silently thinking to yourself as you make your way there, rounding the hallway as slow as you can to give yourself a few extra seconds, or possibly to make Dan Heng wait for longer — or maybe it's both. 

Yet despite how much you ponder, even though you've known him for long enough to start understanding him, you can't decide if he's so direct because he's just that way with everyone, or if it's because he knows you'll always listen. 

Upon entering, his cabin looks the same as it always does: books strewn about and left open on important pages, glowing circuitry lining every wall, his bed unmade, pillow askew, blanket balled up in the corner. When you step in and slide the door closed behind you, he doesn't bother to look up from where he's sat cross-legged and hunched over a data screen, he simply pats the floor next to him with his palm and cocks his head to signal you to come sit down. 

"You almost got yourself killed on our trip to Belobog. Multiple times." Dan Heng explains, tone stern and resolute, not exactly rude, just matter-of-fact. Your knees knock his own once you've settled next to him. Your heart stutters a bit at the proximity, but he doesn't seem to mind. While he speaks, his eyes never stop scanning the screen. 

"We'll reach the Luofu soon, and I won't be coming with you. My biggest concern is you not knowing what to do in an emergency." He turns towards you finally, sharp and serious gaze meeting yours. "I'm already not excited about this, but I'd feel better if you let me run you through a few exercises." 

"I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. I know enough. I think." 

Dan Heng stares back with narrowed eyes and with his arms crossed over his chest, unconvinced. 

In a moment, he pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the desk and rooting around its contents, all while completely disregarding your last statement: "I'll lend you a first aid kit. If we start now, I should have enough time to teach you everything you need to know, mostly everything. I'm serious about this, so please try and pay attention. For your own sake." 

Right. That's fine. You can handle it. You're a pretty fast learner, you think. And thankfully, mostly everything consists of things you already sort of knew or techniques that are relatively simple to comprehend. 

Dan Heng walks you through the steps to bandage a wound — He holds your arm gently as he's showing you the proper way to wrap it, pulling on the bandage tightly and then softly, idly rubbing circles onto your skin with his thumb. 

How to treat a fractured bone, what to do if someone is choking — Dan Heng wraps his arms around you and shows you where to place your hands, resting yours on top of his in the center of your stomach. His chest presses flat against your back, his hair tickles the side of your face and you almost miss when he says into your ear, "Shove forcibly right here, and keep going until… Are you listening?" 

"Yes," You answer. "Er, sort of." You rectify. 

Dan Heng expels a heavy sigh. Right then, you half expect him to give up and kick you out, but instead he holds your shoulder and shifts back, he mutters a barely audible C'mere and guides you to rest your head squarely in his lap, leaving you laying down and peering up at him. 

He admits honestly, "I'm worried about you. If something were to happen to you there, I mean I trust everyone to look after you, but…" 

It isn't like him to trail off. "But what?" 

"But you need to know how to take care of yourself."

Shifting his hand underneath you, he props your head up further with his arm, the metal of his bracer firm on the back of your head. "For now, I'll teach you how to perform CPR. Pay attention to what I do. After this, we'll be done." 

The room's silence seems to stretch on. The endless hum from the systems and analyzers echoes in your ears, your heart pounds in them even louder. Dan Heng brushes his nimble fingers over your chest, right between your ribs, as his eyes scan your face they start to take on a certain sort of softness. 

He composes himself with a sharp breath out, a deep breath in. And then, he's leaning close, too close, gripping your chin deft between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards. You watch his eyes flutter shut and you follow his lead. 

Your heart continues to thump so hard you're certain he can feel it: once, twice. Warm lips brush your own, clearly hesitant, and it's nothing like the straightforwardness you've always been used to getting out of him. No, Dan Heng seems nervous this time, and as he connects with you in an open-mouthed kiss, his hands getting sweaty, warmth pooling in his chest, he can't help his mind from becoming a total mess. 

He isn't thinking all of the sudden, isn't considering any of the consequences, like he's always tried to do. Your lips are on his, he didn't lock the door; he nearly forgets to breathe a steady puff of air into your mouth once the tingling feeling and the heat rising to his cheeks commands all of his attention. 

Almost as quickly as he leaned in, he's forcing himself to tear away from you, his eyes opening slowly, his expression completely unreadable. 

"It's self-explanatory." He reasons, sure of himself, but you swear his voice sounds quieter than it did before. Any louder and he'd trip over his own words, "You got it, or do you need another demonstration?"

"Show me one more time. Just in case." 

If anything were to happen to you, if you died and he wasn't there… 

And once more, Dan Heng is closing the distance, this time briefly reaching up to brush a few strands of stray hair away from his eyes before tilting his head and pulling you closer. 

He's gained a bit more confidence, and he kisses you hard, stops for a moment, caresses your jaw with his fingers and meshes his lips with yours to kiss you again — and you can't help yourself from reaching up, settling your arms around his shoulders to tug him in as close as you can get him. And he lets you. 

You'll be fine, won't you? He isn't sure, and he hates that he isn't sure. 

He'll have to ask you to promise him. 

You freeze, and he pulls away, only by a couple of centimeters, enough to breathe but to still feel his breath fan over your skin when he exhales. He's blushing fully now, you sigh his name against his mouth and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard; he shivers all the way from his neck to the base of his spine. 

His head goes fuzzy, his heart throbs and twists like a burning star — God, he doesn't know what to say. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, but the more he stares down at you, the longer you hold his gaze and let the seconds revolve around and around, he starts to forget it all. 

Dan Heng swallows the thickness forming in his throat, and he's about to force himself to say something when you suddenly start speaking instead. 

"You're doing it wrong, you know." 

"Huh?" 

Your head tilts. "Come on, there's no way you're that horrible, right? If you wanted to kiss me before I went, you could have just said so." 

And Dan Heng, ever-so direct, always so composed, feels his lips start to quiver and somehow can't manage a response to that. 

[neiptune]

best case scenario

cw: 1.6k wc, female reader, friends with benefits, angst, hurt no comfort, you will not find any joy here my friends your girl is going through it and is trying to heal lmfao

Suna is staring at you.

It happens frequently as of late, the feeling of his eyes on you always teasing your spine with a telltale shudder while you pretend to occupy yourself with something entirely different. The thing is, you need things to ground you when you’re with Suna. After you’ve been with him or right before you’re about to be. Distractions to keep you sane, to prevent your heart from freeing itself from your chest cavity.

These quiet moments are not rare anymore, his sorcerous gaze a distraction too dangerous unless he speaks, voice like an enchantment freeing you from the quiescent bubble you intentionally lock yourself in. Today, the bubble is his rubik’s cube. You try very hard to remember at least part of the instructions you once looked up on the internet: think of each face as a layer, start by making a cross, don’t forget to pay attention to the color of the side center pieces, arrange the corner pieces-

“Twist the bottom layer so that one of the white corners is directly under the spot where it’s supposed to go on the top layer”, Suna’s voice is calm yet you sense the amusement it’s coated in. The snark. Ugh.

“Shut up” you grumble, stubbornly doing anything but following his instructions. The white corner piece is where it belongs but turned wrong and you have no idea how to fix that.

“Sure. I always like it better when you’re in charge anyway” he murmurs, too close. Like a cat, his chin suddenly rests on your shoulder and infuriatingly soft hair tickles your cheek as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

“I’m trying to focus here” your hold grows rigid, fingers moving layers of the cube randomly.

“And I’m just watching” he coos, voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

“You’re sabotaging. First by staring, now with this”.

“Should’ve been less pretty if you didn’t want me to stare”.

You shut your eyes for a second, let a deep breath fill your lungs with oxygen and your heart with little sparks of hope, crimson and golden and oh so fickle.

He doesn’t need to say these things. You’ve been sleeping together for enough time for him to know you’ll gladly welcome him back into your bed, day and night, no additional convincing needed. Why does he bother?

Suna is like one of those beautifully crafted russian tea dolls, only backwards. He starts as the smallest figure, blunt and perpetually unbothered, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Then, if he feels safe enough to allow layers to be carefully exposed, the figure starts getting bigger: each crevice comes to light and contains way more than what one would expect from someone so stoic.

He’s a dog person, doesn’t like his morning coffee to be too hot, rewatches his favorite movies when he needs a good cry, sucks with plants, can’t get on a plane without taking an anxiolytic first. More than anything, Suna’s affection is hard to earn but runs deep. He loves his family, adores his friends. He’s in love with someone who isn’t you.

Suna is a one night stand enjoyer and doesn’t disdain dates or conversations that stretch out for days on dating apps. Worst case scenario, he’s entertained. Good case scenario, he also gets a good fuck out of it. Best case scenario, he finds relief and a friend. You suppose you’re his best case scenario.

It’s not like it was entirely unanticipated. He’s good looking, charming in his own stoic way, polite. First, it was attraction. Then, it was nothing but the cruel irony of a fate that came as doom. You just kept texting each other, taste and humor matching curiously, memes exchanged in the middle of the night and laughter muffled in pillows until he just had to ask for your number and smoothly text if he could come over one more time. Two times. A million times too many. For months, until Suna started sleeping in at your apartment and you started to fix breakfast for the both of you, until you walked his dog together, until you accidentally met one of his ex schoolmates and he introduced you calmly, by your name and as a friend. Until sleeping together wasn’t the only motive to see each other anymore, nights spent on his couch watching movies and afternoons devoted to driving around the city, exploring new bakeries and vinyl record stores.

Suna’s been honest since the beginning. Not when you started hooking up, rather when you became friends. I’m in love with someone I’m unable to forget. That’s alright, you replied. You were friends who were attracted to each other, simple as that: nothing was supposed to change.

And then, because life is a never ending sequence of sadistic developments, you ended up falling for him. Not only that: you started harboring hope, which is even worse than desire or delusion. Hope doesn’t keep you grounded. It makes you hang on every word Suna says, each unnecessary compliment, the way he sometimes takes you by the hand while strolling around shops, that one time he got so drunk you had to collect him from a bar. Then he fell asleep in your bed, arms around your body keeping you pressed against him all night. He was drunk enough to giggle (a rare occurrence), to ask you a question your mind still conjures word by word on nights you feel like you’re about to go insane, brain delirious with fabricated scenarios that could never be real. They couldn’t, right?

If we end up falling in love at last, will you stay and never leave?

For the longest time you refused to allow your heart to believe there could be some hidden meaning behind all those criptic words and uncharacteristic gestures. But then treacherous hope infiltrated your thoughts and the throb in your chest, arrangement now seemingly exclusive, dating apps no longer on his phone, ex schoolmates crowding his apartment and chatting with you like old friends. It must’ve meant something. It must mean something. And you’re sure you’ll end up going crazy if you don’t take a goddamn shot. 

“Wanna do something tomorrow? There’s a new cafe I wanted to take you to”.

Suna nods, cheek pressed to your bare shoulder.

“Sure, sounds good”.

“It’s a date, then?”.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else planned. We can spend the day exploring”.

You pause your ministrations for a moment, then attentively place the cube on his nightstand once more.

“Can it be a real date?”.

You feel it before he can speak. It’s in the way he stiffens against your body, embedded all over his features as he straightens up to stare back. It’s in his parted lips, in the regret tucked into the corners of his mouth.

Suna just says your name and it’s mortifying, humiliating. 

“It’s okay” you take a shaky breath, nod once “forget about it. I’m so stupid”.

“No” he’s quick to interrupt “let’s talk about it”.

“Why? I already got my answer”.

“I didn’t say anything yet”.

You finally look at him, heart sinking to your stomach. It’s not like you’ve known Suna for years but you’ve known him long enough to recognize that stare, the watchfulness in his tone. You’ve already heard him turn down other women before.

“Let me say something first” you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat “I like you, Rin. I like you way more than I should and that's on me but I was starting to believe that, I don’t know, you liked me back”.

He takes your hands in his and holds them tight, conflict laced into his upset features.

“I do like you. I like you a lot”.

You smile a sad smile.

“Just not enough to date me?”.

“I would fucking love to date you. I’d be the luckiest man on earth. If I could decide to fall in love with you, if that choice belonged to me, I wouldn’t waste a single other second”.

“But you don’t see that ever happening so why waste your time, right?”.

Suna’s hold on your hands grows stronger, brows furrowed in anguish.

“I wouldn’t ever let you date someone who’s in love with someone else. You deserve so much better than that”.

As you pull your hands free from his grasp, you dazedly wonder how many times a heart can break and if it’s truly shattered if the person causing that agony doesn’t even seem to hear a sound so clear. The pain is unbearable, it makes you petty and it makes you cruel. You hope she’ll never want him. You beg that a gut-wrenching void swallows him whole. You pray that he’ll have to spend the rest of his life torturing himself, thinking about what could’ve been over and over again.

She’s not here, I am. She doesn’t want you, I do. She didn’t even remember your birthday, I memorized it a year go. Fuck you. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

Suna tries to stop you from leaving, runs nervous hands through his disheveled hair. He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend, you’re important to him, he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what to do, wishes something could make this right.

“I would’ve made you happy” you aggressively wipe the tears running down your cheeks, humiliation still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I would’ve wanted it to be you” he doesn’t cry, he never cries. You’re sure he’s going to miss you for a week or two, then he’ll easily fall back into his usual routine, download his apps once more, find other women to fill his time with. His friends are going to stop asking about you, your name won’t be mentioned over beer and board games anymore. His absence is always going to weigh more in your life, just as his presence.

“Good luck, Suna” his last name sounds weird, so weird the sound makes him flinch.

It’ll pass.

[ownlittleuniverse]

snippet #3 - the hero’s getting prepared for a ball

warning: touchy villain (not nsfw), suggestive

The hero felt overwhelmed by the number of hands on their body.

Their head was being pulled back and forth, over and over. Their hair was being tightly braided and brushed into a perfect slick bun. The hero opened their mouth as their lips were being painted blood red by the maids, as well as their nails. Small pearls, black and white delicate flowers with sharp thorns were sewn in their hair like the maids were creating an expensive bouquet.

“You're messing up your lipstick,” one of them said, yanking the hero’s chin and preparing their small brush once again, “Open up.”

The maid swiped over the hero’s lips until the spot was no longer visible. The hero hadn’t realized they were biting the skin.

The hero tried not to flinch when a maid started tightening their corset to an unbelievable degree. It felt like their ribs were being pressed against their organs, like walls were closing in from all ends. Another sharp tug at the corset made the hero gasp. They heard an annoyed sigh. They looked towards the sound and realized they clenched their hands in the maid’s who were painting their nails, messing up the paint job. The maid looked at them with clear malice they were not trying hard to suppress. The made wiped the smudged polish off to start over.

“I’m sorry,” the hero whispered.

They felt like they were messing everything up.

One maid tightened on a black lace choker with small pearls around their neck, pulling it so tight it felt like someone was wrapping their hand around the delicate skin as another maid slipped matching fingerless lace long gloves onto their arms.

After what felt like an eternity of chaos, the maids finally stepped back. The hero took in their appearance.

Their gown flowed to the floor with black and white lace hugging their curves in the right places, small but bold flower patterns all over the dress matching their accessories and hair. The plunging neckline went all the way down to the center of their chest, its edges covered in pearls, thorns and petals.

The maids all smiled at the hero’s regal appearance, but the hero couldn’t bring themselves to do the same.

They didn’t look like themselves anymore.

The hero flinched at the sound of the door opening.

They sucked in a breath as the villain entered. They were in a matching perfectly tailored black suit, their hands covered in black gloves, their gaze cutting through the room like a blade. They looked elegant and menacing all in one.

The hero gulped, keeping their head down as the villain made their way over, their steps echoing across the tension-filled silent room. The hero tried to suppress their growing nerves that started eating away at their body, needing their fingers together, picking at their exposed hangnails.

The maids frantically backed away from the hero. No. No. No. The hero tried to telepathically tell them to come back, not leave them so exposed in front of the tall dark god. The villain’s stare made the hero feel like they were stripping them down to nothing but their skin.

The hero's breath hitched as they felt the villain come right behind their body, their breath tickling their ear. The hero wanted to ignore them so badly, but that would be completely impossible. The villain was not to be ignored.

The hero finally lifted their head and flinched when they made direct eye contact with the villain’s glare in the mirror. The villain kept their hands in their pocket but it felt like their hands were caressing the hero’s waist, making them shiver and their heart beat erratically just from that look they were giving them. Like they could eat them for dinner.

Their voice commanded the room like the creature of power they were.

“Leave us.”

The hero rolled their lips and watched with beading eyes all the maids quickly scurrying out, keeping their heads down.

No. No. Please. Please stay. Don’t leave them alone.

As soon as the door shut the hero’s shoulders tightened with even more fear. The villain's hands came up to the hero’s waist, softly caressing the bodice of their corset. The hero flinched violently.

“You look exquisite,” the villain cooed in the hero’s ear, making them shiver, “But darling, why are you so upset?”

“I-I’m not..” the hero whispered in a tone that wasn’t even convincing to them.

The villain's hands tightened, causing a whimper to escape the hero’s mouth. They hated themselves for it.

“Now, I know my little hero,” they murmured, smiling against the hero’s neck, “I know when they’re not happy, and-“ they ran their hands higher and higher, “I know what their lies sound like.”

The hero made eye contact with them once again in the mirror, the villain's eyes pouring into theirs willing them to open up. After a few beats of silence, the villain dug their fingers ever so slightly. The hero’s heartbeat spiked at the villain’s warning.

“I just…” the hero blurted out, “Everything feels so… uncomfortable—But everyone put so much effort into how I look, and I do look good… but-I.. I feel so ungrateful saying that…I’m sorry,” they murmured looking back down at their feet.

They felt a tear trickle down their cheek. They felt like such a spoiled brat not being appreciative of the time and effort it took to make them look like a beautiful art piece. They are grateful, they just… didn’t feel happy.

The villain didn’t say anything for a moment. The hero made them angry. The villain was definitely going to-

But all they felt was the pressure on their scalp beginning to release.

They looked up at the mirror and saw the villain slowly taking all the intricate accessories out of their hair, making their head feel ten times lighter than before. The villain took out most of the flowers, and let the hero’s hair cascade down their back. It felt so good, so releasing, not having that weight. The hero couldn't have imagined wearing that hair all night, it ripping at their scalp.

“I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, my love,” the villain whispered as they began to take the tight braids out, “You look breathtaking with and without all of this.”

The hero hated how they blushed at the villain’s words, how they knew exactly what to say to make the hero feel all warm when the fear still clawed inside like a bouquet of knife-sharp icicles.

The villain delicately brushed the hero’s running tears away with their gloved finger. The hero couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the villain took a brush from the vanity and began to brush the hero’s hair out. The villain kissed the shell of their ear, making their hero whimper.

“You're a masterpiece, through and through.”

The villain smiled at their hero turning the color of their lipstick.

The villain began to massage their scalp with one hand and brush their hair out with another, making the hero sigh contently, their eyes closing from the pleasure. They let themselves sink into the feeling. It felt… so amazing. They wished it didn’t, they really did.

The villain slowly walked around the hero’s body, never letting go of their hair or scalp once. They watched in contentment as their hero’s eyes fluttered behind their eyelids in pleasure, not being able to resist submitting to the feelings the villain was giving them. They loved having that control over their hero. Their little plaything.

The villain took a small cloth from the vanity and began to wipe some of the hero’s makeup off. The hero’s eyes shot open in confusion, but the villain's one hand trailing down and massaging the knots in their neck made their eyes slowly close again. Their hero sighed in contentment.

The villain was completely obsessed with how their touch could turn their hero into a submissive thing at their feet. How they knew if they trailed their hand and tugged on their little choker that their hero would let out a moan they couldn’t suppress.

They knew them better than they knew themselves.

“I'll have to kill all the people who look past your neck,” the villain laughed. They wouldn’t hesitate to torture anyone for weeks on end who dared to look at their hero in a way that only they could. At the perfect skin that trailed down to their chest that the villain couldn't wait to taste.

The hero’s eyes slowly opened back up as they sighed, looking at the villain. But the hero’s worried face didn’t fade.

“What is it, darling?” the villain cooed.

“I-…”

The villain watched as their hero looked down in embarrassment, a faint rosy blush covering their cheeks.

”Can you undo my corset, just a bit..” they whispered, “It’s a bit too tight.”

The villain smiled. They loved the idea of undoing their hero’s corset.

“Of course I can.”

If they didn’t have a ball to attend, the villain would rip the whole thing off.

The villain tugged at the hero’s choker which, as they perfectly predicted, made their hero moan deliciously. That neck of theirs was so sensitive, they could barely hold themselves back from wrapping their hand around the skin and leaving their mark. They couldn’t wait to memorize every single sensitive place to touch to make their hero’s body writhe. The villain stepped back behind the hero and slowly undid their corset.

The hero didn’t know what to feel about the villain anymore.

They felt safe in their presence, protected and sheltered, but they also knew the villain’s power was something they abused. If they wanted to make the hero kneel for them, completely submit to them, they would. If they decided the hero was being ungrateful, then they were. If the villain wanted to hurt the hero, they could rip them in two with little to no effort. It scared them. But the villain has only been delicate, sweet, and soft with the hero and only the hero. Somehow, that scared them even more.

The hero gasped and their eyes closed at a sudden feeling, they curled their fists into the gown’s skirt. The villain's hand was gripping the hero’s waist as they pulled and pulled at the threads.

The hero’s heartbeat picked up. This felt different than the maids doing the same. The maids loosening and tightening their threads felt like life was being squeezed out of them, like they were a bug being squished between a shoe and the concrete. But when the villain did it… it felt like being wrapped in an all-consuming embrace. It felt like a word starting with L that the villain definitely cannot feel.

The villain’s hand pressed into their back causing the hero to involuntarily arch. Their fingers curled as they tried so hard to suppress their sounds, but the hero couldn’t help but let out another breathless small moan, their eyes clenching. They felt like they lost complete control of their body. It should make them feel scared, horrible, but they just wanted more.

The villain smiled at their reflection in the mirror. If only their hero knew what they looked like right now, their mouth open, their eyes closed. The sounds escaped them over and over. It was intoxicating.

The villain began to tighten the corset again, but this time leaving the hero enough room to somewhat breathe. As the hero’s breathing came back to a steady pace, the villain couldn’t help themselves.

They wanted to hear it all again, to give them an overwhelming sense of pleasure their little hero couldn’t help but submit to. And they wanted to feel it this time, even if they knew the consequences.

The villain ripped their black gloves off and tossed them aside. They wrapped both their arms around their hero, pressing them into their chest, curling them tight. The hero’s eyes shot open as their fingers flexed around their waist.

“Wha.. What are you doing?” the hero squeaked, their voice laced with confusion, panic.. and pleasure.

The villain simply pressed them more into their body. One of their hands came up to pull their choker aside, as their mouth latched onto the sensitive part of their hero’s neck.

The hero gasped. They squirmed in their grasp, at the villain’s lips, at their mouth that started to suck and mark all over.

”Wait!” the hero gasped, the sensations spreading through them, making them writhe. “Everyone will see!”

“That’s the plan, love.” the villain smirked, before going again. They couldn’t wait for all the onlookers to stare in shock. No one will dare touch what’s theirs.

The villain let one of their hands trail back up to the hero’s hair, swiftly tugging them to the side, rubbing their scalp again in a way they knew their hero loved. The hero immediately whimpered as the villain gave themselves more access to their neck.

The hero could feel the villain leaving nasty marks, ones every person at the ball would spot from a mile away. They shouldn’t have let that happen, but it was too late. They didn’t have enough strength to push the villain off, to rip their hand out of their hair, and they didn’t want to. It felt too good… everything was too much and they couldn't help but sink.

They couldn’t fight it anymore. The hero finally let themselves drown in the sea of pleasure.

They closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around the villain, letting their breathless sounds get louder and louder as the villain's mouth trailed from their neck to their collarbone, all the way down to the exposed skin near their chest.

The villain could feel their hero growing more and more into a pile at their feet, which just made them suck their skin even harder. Their hero almost screamed out when they bit into a sensitive part of their collarbone, then soothed the sting away with small delicate kisses.

The hero felt like the villain's hands were burning into them, but not in a way they hated, no, in a way they craved. They wanted it more and more, like a drug. They never felt anything better.

The villain picked up their hero, turned them around and pressed them into the vanity in a frenzy, both of them now breathing heavily and feeling like they just wanted more and more. They both felt so addicted.

The villain began to kiss the sensitive parts of the hero’s chest. The hero looked down at them in shock.

The villain was rendering their hero into a panting, moaning mess.

The villain sucked as their hand massaged their hero’s neck where all their marks now covered their skin. The hero threw their head back and practically screamed.

The villain looked up with pride at their hero’s eyes fluttering adorably, their mouth agape, their hair now a mess, their neck covered in a new red necklace. They loved how much they looked like theirs, and how everyone would soon see.

The villain continued their descent as the hero threaded their hand into the villain’s locks, not knowing if they wanted to keep them there or push them away. Everything felt so sensitive, heightened and feverish.

Their eyes locked for a second, and it made everything feel so much more intense. The hero cried out as the villain bit down gently, before sucking and kissing the pain away. They couldn’t think straight, it was like the villain had cast a spell on them.

The hero needed more, so much more.

The villain, feeling their hero growing impatient by their whines, tugged them close and finally pressed their lips to theirs.

They had thought of this moment for so long, what their hero would taste like, feel like. And they felt like the best thing in the whole world.

The villain coaxed their mouth open and it was like no kiss the hero had ever felt.

Would they even call that a kiss? They didn’t know. Kisses were comforting, sweet in the hero’s head, and this was far from that. It felt intoxicating in a way that humans were not supposed to feel. It felt so wrong, but so breathtaking in a way where they couldn’t stop themselves, they couldn’t. The hero moaned into their mouth as the villain made a mess of them over and over.

The hero frantically reached for the villain’s pants subconsciously, making the villain smile into their lips between their kisses.

They grabbed their hero’s hands, caressing their wrists trying to soothe their little love’s franticness, “Not now, darling.”

The hero only whined at them.

“Oh, you're a needy little thing, aren’t you?” they chuckled, looking at their hero’s disheveled out of breath state. The villain smiled. They turned them into a mess.

“As much as I would love to give your impatient body what it wants,” the villain smirked, making the hero heat up, “We have a ball to get to.”

The villain propped themselves back up, leaving the hero to lean back on the vanity still trying to catch their breath.

They… they didn’t-.. what..

“What was that?” they whispered. Their brain felt like it was still in pieces.

The villain simply tilted their head as they retrieved their gloves once more from the floor.

“I’m not usually… I don't-“, the hero said, their eyes becoming frantic. The villain needed to calm them down, they had a feeling this would happen.

The villain slowly approached their hero, their now gloved hands tucking a strand behind their ear.

“You shock yourself when you realize who you are when you let go.”

The hero looked up at them with the most adorable doe eyes filled with shock and confusion. The villain leaned in close, reveling in the way their hero’s breath hitched and their pupils went wide.

“You should do it more often,” they smirked. Their hero blushed immediately.

The villain couldn’t stop themselves from pressing a soft kiss to their lips.

The villain backed up and extended their hand, an open invitation. The hero looked at it cautiously but took the offer. Their skin felt warm and tingly against the leather.

But not like it tingled against the villain’s skin.

The hero felt more relaxed, the overwhelming anxiety from before seemed to have dissipated.

The villain tugged them along as the hero glanced in the mirror's direction.

They stopped in their tracks.

They looked… completely ruined.

Their hair had strands peaking out, their lipstick smudged, their cheeks so red you couldn’t even see the blush anymore. They looked so dirty, and they knew that everyone at the ball would think the same. They couldn’t leave like this. They couldn’t.

“I can’t wait for everyone to see you,” the villain murmured behind them.

“Like this?” the hero gulped. They spotted their lipstick smudged on the villain’s lips as well. It made their heart flutter in a way they hated.

“Exactly.”

The villain tugged them again, but the hero tried to stop them. The villain slowly turned to glare at them. It made the hero want to gulp down their words, but they didn’t this time.

“I can’t go down in front of people looking like—“

”Like what?” the villain said, their hand coming up to tug the hero’s hair. The hero’s anxiety came creeping back, the villain’s warning clear as day as their grip tightened against their hand and head.

“Like your mine?”

The hero’s heart started to pick up. The villains eyes pieced through them as their hands tightened once more making them whimper out of fear.

“That’s exactly what you should look like.”

The hero wanted to rip their naive little heart out.

They knew they should have listened to that voice in the back of their head. The one telling them that the villain never cared for them. The villain didn’t kiss them senselessly to make each other feel good. No. They only did it to make their appearances look.. well like this.

But the villain couldn’t be more satisfied with the taste of their hero’s lipstick on their mouth.

They spent years being utterly obsessed with someone those pesky royals wouldn’t let them have.

But the villain knew from the second they laid eyes on them that they already wanted to kiss them all over until they writhed. They already wanted to adorn their perfectly smooth skin with their marks, showing the world who they belonged to. They already wanted to devour them until the only thing left was a good little hero for them to play with.

They waited for the perfect time, in a small alleyway that day they decided they were going to keep the king and queen’s daughter all to themselves. The royal family was not happy, of course, but with their precious princess in the villains’ grasp, they were foolish to not obey the villain's demands.

Their hero was still terrified of the villain, kept their head down in their presence like one look would send them to hell. But their little pet was growing more and more perfect by the day, and soon they will be absolutely theirs.

The power coursing through the villain’s hands was something they didn’t use often on their hero, but when they did, it was completely worth it. It made the hero more compliant so to say.

The King and Queen will see tonight, at this very ball, looking up at the staircase in a matter of minutes exactly what the villain has turned their princess into.

The villain released the hero’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to the hero’s knuckles, before tugging them along.

Their hero shivered but still followed their villain.

[glassrowboat]

🎲 I am always one for enabling

4. A kiss atop the head.

One Kiss, Blue Fish. Furina.

Word count: 900+

One kiss for her, one kiss for the little gold colored statuette. A habit now so ingrained into your routine as keys pressed into your palm on your way out the door that it was simply instinct to lean down for both of them. Even after the first layer of golden plating started to wear down and revealed a greenish hue beneath.

Oxidation. Something you have had the chance to grow familiar with as the old statues of dogs in the park tucked away between the building of the capital, all beared proof of their noses being scratched and petted. The sight of it alone had you shaking your head, a smile always fighting to turn your lips up ever so slightly.

This habit had all started from a single joke. One comment, that's all it took after Furina had brought home the mini version of her (err- or the Hydro Archon that she was) that now turned to being part of your daily life.

Your fingers had been gliding over the reward as you heard her debating over what to do with it after coming home. Her gloved fingers clutched onto it in a way that failed to hide how they shook just from the sight of the thing alone.

To place it proud and center on the mantle, she pondered. Maybe even bury it away in the guestroom that you only ever used once. Long forgotten after Furina had grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you. Or, simply, toss it out like it was trash?

To that, a startled and over dramatized gasp left you. Hand to your chest to truly sell that bit of how hurt you were at such an appalling suggestion. “You would dare toss the image of my lover in the garbage?”

So, after your ploy of pretending it mattered more to you that it truly did and a spat that was more playful than anything, you placed the mini Furina on the mantle. Tall and proud. Placing a kiss to its little head, you had turned back to her, a cheeky smile on your lips.

A habit set in stone from there on.

One a certain someone clearly wasn't a fan of as her cheeks were puffed out, and a pout graced her features just like that day.

“If you're just going to give out two kisses, you might as well give the second one to me too.” She insisted, head turned away from you as she held up her nose.

It spoke levels about how comfortable she was with you. Willing to give attitude and sass she would normally be afraid anyone else would look at and think of the Hydro Archon she once represented. But there was no need for that here. Not with you.

“That so?”

Taking a strand of hair, that same one that stuck up in the air no matter how much she tried to tame it in the mornings, you twirled it around your finger. The shades of blue and white were almost hypnotizing to watch even when her head bounced up and down to nod.

“Yes! It only makes sense you would give me, your lover, your affection instead of that thing.”

“Now, now, my little mermaid.” You teased as her gaze fell on the golden trophy, eyes surely puncturing the cheap plating covering it. “I can give you two kisses from here on out if you really want.”

Her small little giggle filled the air, seeming appeased with this outcome. For now.

“And I'll give the little replica two on the way out, too.”

She called your name, a high-pitched whine that accompanied her tugging ever so slightly on your sleeve. The way she always said that truly did capture your attention, more so than anyone else who's ever used it before as you bent down to her height.

Eye to eye as you asked “yes?”

“If that's what you're so intent on doing, then you'll have to give me three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Wrapping your arms around her waist, the frills of her outfit tickled your arms as she moved in a little closer. The shuffle of her heels heard on the hardwood floor as Furina moved into your hold. “But of course, three kisses.”

If it makes her happy, then it's more than worth it.

“Then take this from the top."

Furina grabbed your keys off the mantle, pulling them away from the statuette you placed them next to when she had first called for your attention. Rattling in her hand as she placed them in yours.

“All the way from the top? Next thing you know, there will be a clapperboard telling me when I can and can't start helping you bathe.”

“T-that’s not important right now.”

Before she could pull away, to hide her blushing cheeks behind a false attitude and layers of hair she hoped would block her face away, you pressed your lips to her hairline. The perfume Neuvillette gifted her after her departure from the Palais Mermonia, only welcoming your touch even more.

Drawing your in closer as you muttered “one kiss, two kiss, three kiss,” with every peck to her forehead. Only a small part of you is resisting the urge to continue teasing her and say ‘red fish, blue fish’ to finish your little poem.

Alas, that can wait another day.

Just like how tomorrow you plan to give three kisses to the statuette just to see Furina pitch another fit.

[0what-a-guy0]

Are you Sure?- Harvey x Reader (tried to keep it gender neutral) (also on AO3)

You couldn’t help but to think yourself lucky. You watched through the window of the mayor's truck as trees whizzed past. 

“I am so happy you asked me to help you out hun.” Marnie chirped from behind the wheel. Her hair was braided, rather roughly as Jas had only recently started learning how to make the intricate twists. 

You sat, butterflies in your stomach as she drove you both into town. “I really appreciate you taking me..” You chuckled, placing one hand to your face. The older woman leaned over and patted one hand to your knee. “I’m just so thrilled you’re going to ask him!” Your stomach flipped as she spoke. All sorts of uncertainties going through your mind as she spoke. 

“I just know the good doctor will be so tickled.” She giggled giving your knee a squeeze. The pendant sat at home in a chest, you had been so confident when you bought it but as time went on you were beginning to lose your nerve. You heard Marnie laugh, “Don’t worry dearie, he’ll say yes.” She takes your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze, 

The shops in pelican town have enough for day to day needs, and you loved Emily, but for tonight you had wanted something that made you look like the partner of a well respected doctor. 

You wanted something refined, dignified, while modest. You tug at your overalls, feeling as nerves settle in. The shop was nice. Nice dark wood floors, tall windows, stocked with clothes that could make anyone look like a Harvard graduate. 

“Hello, can I help you?” A woman approached, hands clasped behind her back, Marnie beamed at her, stepping between you both, a bounce in her step, “This one is popping the question!” She squealed. Your face flushed as the woman looked between you both. Her eyes went wide and mouth was shaped like an ‘o’. “Do you need an outfit then?” You nod your head fiddling with your hands. “Then come this way.”

You must have tried on outfits for hours in the one store alone. After what felt like outfit one-thousand, Marnie had decided to try another store. Then another. Then another. 

It wasn’t until the final store you had found something you felt worked. Marnie clapped her hands when you stepped out of the dressing room. She squealed in delight as you spun around in the look. “Oh dear he’ll be just smitten!” She said pushing  you back into the stall. “Now get out of it so we can pay for it!”  

On your way back into town the sun had already set. Stars peered down at you both as Marnie pulled into the farm. “Now remember to be careful washing the top darling!” She called as you climbed out of the passenger seat. You waved as she drove back. 

Once inside the house you placed the bag on your kitchen table laying out each piece of the outfit. You looked it over once more satisfied with each detail. You began to walk away. You peered over your shoulder again. Slowly making your way back to the set. You looked it over once more. Then again. 

What were you thinking? This outfit, as nice as it was, was nothing like you. It very much suited Harvey’s aesthetic, but- 

No. You had already bought the outfit. You had already made the plans. Everything had lined up too perfectly. 

Both you and Harvey were incredibly busy people, as the town’s only doctor, there was always someone in need of his attention. Yours was always divided between crops, animals, and other adventures. Since starting a relationship you hadn’t gone into the mines nearly as often as you once had. You still made the occasional venture there when a request was made by Clint or Marlon, but for the most part you had been fairly good about keeping out of trouble. 

That wasn’t to say that you weren’t still incredibly busy. The farm, the town and the mayor made sure of that (less so now that the community center had been completed). Still you and Harvey had agreed quality time with one another was incredibly important. So every Friday night every two weeks you’d have a date night. You’d been good about holding yourselves to that for the better part of two years. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes you couldn’t make it, sometimes he couldn’t make it. Oftentimes your dates were interrupted by something or someone. 

There were nights however, when you were left alone with each other. 

Nights when you sat across the table from the doctor. Conversation a murmur in the quiet of night. Candles lighting his features. A meal you had cooked him steaming on the table. His skin flushed and curly hair a mess. Those nights when, unintentionally, you moved your chairs from across the table to next to one another when you would lean against him and his arm would wrap around you. His hand resting at your hip fingers splayed gently over your hip holding you to him like if he didn’t you would leave. 

You didn’t know just how right you were in that assessment. 

That his firm hold was grounding for you both. That when you were so close, he felt like he could finally rest. Those loud busy days that left him spinning became quiet, became slow, when he was with you. The smell of your shampoo when he laid his head over yours, the way you fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck, the way your sighs filled the room brought him a sense of peace that he craved like a man starved. He held you not just to be in your company, but to soak himself in it, afraid to let you go and return to a life without you. 

For now you would pace your kitchen in anguish the Thursday night before, going in circles. You moved over to the small chest on your counter. Opening the capsule, fingers brushing over the shell as you took a deep breath. This was getting you nowhere. The only thing that would bring you any peace was asking him. 

“How was your trip into town?”. 

You peaked into the laundry room, the pieces of your outfit spinning in the washing machine. “It went well!” You responded proud of the way you were able to keep your nerves from showing in your voice. The silence was long, it wasn’t often that silence with Harvey was uncomfortable, right now however, it stretched out, it smothered you. “Did you get anything?” He asked after a moment, there were rustling sounds as his voice came closer. 

‘It’s a surprise?” You said sitting on your bed leaning back. His chuckle resonated through your entire body. Low, warm, comforting. “A good one right?” 

“I’d hope so.”

The next morning you sprung right up at…

FIVE AM?? 

You groaned pulling the covers over yourself trying in vain to squeeze that last hour of sleep in. You rolled back over at five thirty deciding to just get an early start. 

Chores which normally took hours only took a single hour this morning. You stared at the field in disbelief. There was no way you had moved through it all that quickly…

You went back through, double checking everything as you did. You flopped back into a chair at your kitchen table somewhat dumbfounded. Rolling your shoulders you decide to cook breakfast, which you often skipped in favor of work. 

You were mid bite of an egg when your phone rang. 

“Morning Ma-”

“Tell ‘em we are gonna be there at 1 to help them get ready!” You heard Haley’s voice ring out on the other end. You quirked a brow. Maru sighed, “we will-”

“I heard her.” You chuckle glancing at the clock on your wall. It was only nine. “Maru..” You sigh through the phone. Her affirmative hum from the other side pushes you to keep going, “Can you be here a little earlier?” Your voice sounds more broken than you intended for it too. There was a pause over the phone. 

“What time?”

You gathered flowers from your fields waiting for the two girls to arrive. A basket of dandelions and daffodils in your hand. It was almost overflowing with all the things you foraged. 

You could hear them before you saw them, “I’m just saying!” Haley laughed, hands raised defensively as they made their way onto the property.  They looked over to you, Maru smiled one hand raised in greeting while Haley’s arm raised in the air waving back and forth. 

When you first came to town the two seemed an unlikely pair, you figured opposites attract. They had done a world of good for one another. It was fun to see the way they worked. Haley would watch Maru work, asking questions left and right as the tech genius tinkered with her machines, happy to answer any questions thrown her way. 

“Ok so..” The blonde said, stretching her arms across your table. You turned towards her humming as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “Can we see it?” She asked, grin splitting her cheeks. 

Your heart stuttered for a minute. You clasp the box gently showing the two women the pendant. Haley’s eyes grew wide as she looked at it. Maru nodded approvingly. “He’ll say yes.” The scientist said. You groaned, “Everyone is saying that but how do you know that..” Maru laughed two hands settling on each of your shoulders. 

“Trust me.”

You stared at your reflection. You had to admit the both of them had done good work. You came back into your room, Maru held up your outfit, head tilted. “This looks like..” she trailed. 

“Like Harvey.” Haley said, mirroring Maru. You felt your stomach flip once again. That had been the goal. Right?

You thought it over staring at the clinic door, pendant (and a few other gifts) tucked into your bag. Harvey never made you wait long. You checked your phone’s clock, 5:59. You were here a minute early. That was ok. That was normal. Considerate, even. 

You might throw up. 

The clinic’s door swung open. You craned your neck to see him. His curly hair was tamed only minutely by a little gel. His regular suit was replaced with a forest green jacket over a black turtleneck. He paired it with dark gray slacks and a black leather belt. His regular frames still sat on his nose. You felt a blush rise up your neck to your cheeks. He looked at you surprised.

“Is that new?” He asked, gesturing to your outfit. You nod, turning from side to side. “Yeah! Uh, surprise?” You chuckle nervously. He cups the back of your head pulling you to him as he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “You look nice.” 

The saloon is almost empty when you take your seat. There was a booth in the corner that had been dubbed ‘your booth’ by other members of the town. Gus had even left a candle for you both. When Harvey returned from the jukebox Gus brought over your meals, extra carefully he sat down your bowl of parsnip soup and Harvey’s plate of vegetables. 

“Harvey dear.” He looked up from his meal to look at you, “I’m afraid there are rumors circulating.” he tilted his head, mouth full of food, “everyone is starting to think I’m dating a rabbit.” He rolled his eyes, swallowing the food. “Har.. har..” 

“Maybe..” You sipped on the soup as he responded, “maybe I just want to live a little longer.. Have more time with you.” You splutter just a little in surprise. Soup dribbling down your chin. You grab at a napkin swiping at your face. 

“Was it that bad?” He asks, laughing slightly. “No No!” You exclaim choking on the soup, “it was sweet, very sweet!” You glance down, your shirt was covered in little chunks of vegetables. You groan dejected as Harvey laughs. 

He links his arm with yours as you leave the saloon, guiding you back to his apartment. The space is cozy and warm, filled with his personality, “Did you have any new models?” You ask settling your bag onto the table closest to the door. 

“Not recently. I’ve been saving money..” he responds. He blushes ever so slightly coughing into his fist when you both make eye contact. “Is everything ok at the clinic?” You ask and he nods slowly. “Yes, of course, you just never can be too careful.” His back was turned to you, something in his hands.

Harvey always acted a little strange but now? It made your stomach twist. “Alright…”

You looked over to your bag, hopping just a little on your way to it, “I brought you a gift.” 

He turns back to you sliding his hands into his pockets. You pull the bottle of wine from your bag, followed by the bag of leeks and spring onions. He took both chuckling, when he realized what was in the bag, “I thought you didn’t like that I was eating so many vegetables.” You shrug, “I guess it does keep me in business.” 

He places the bag and wine on the table behind you, leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips. You smile, hands cupping his cheek. His hands rest at your waist. Innocent pecks sweet presses, harder and harder to maintain as you both smile. Your hands tangle into his curls twining in them as the rumble in his chest reverberates through you. He leans further and you place a hand to the table trying to steady yourself. 

Your palm brushes against your bag which slides to the floor. 

You freeze when you hear an audible crunch. He pulls back from you, “What was that?”

You can already feel the sting in your eyes, you move to the bag digging through the contents hoping against all hope…

There in the bottom were the shattered remains of the shell. You don’t even realize that tears are rolling down your face as you gather the pieces in your hands. Harvey rushes to your side on his knees before you can register that he was there. 

You turn to face him, lip wobbling, “I’m sorry..” You squeak, extending the shards to him. He looks at your palm lips parted before his eyes search yours.

You crumble then into him. He grabs you wrapping his arms around you, “I wanted to surprise you tonight but, then I spilled food all over the outfit I’d bought just for this...then broke the pendant-” He shushes you pulling back to look you in your eyes, “The clothes don’t matter to me. I would have said yes if you came in your overalls.” You wipe your eyes furiously, “Now there is nothing to say yes too!” You cry squeezing your eyes together.

“I wouldn’t say that..” He mutters. 

“But Harvey it’s bro-” Your voice dies out as he fishes through his pocket. A blue pendant and chain dangling from his hand. 

“I guess we had similar plans..” He chuckles bashfully. 

Looking back on it you consider killing Maru for not telling you why everyone in town would be so certain Harvey would say yes.

But when you think about the way he held you whispering, “Will you marry me?” As he wiped tears from your cheeks, you realize that maybe it had been perfect in a way that no perfect plan could compete with.

[thetypingpup]

okay but can you imagine wooyoung being so desperate for your pussy but too proud to beg for it so he just casually brings up free use and as soonnn as you agree he just never takes his mouth off of you like,,,, you just got home? he's on his knees in the doorway with his tongue on your clit and two fingers inside <3 you're just sitting in the car together? best believe that man is gonna have you folded up in the passenger seat so he can tongue fuck you until you gush for him <3 sometimes you can't even get any chores done bc he's too busy bending you over and spreading you open from the back so that he can taste your sweetness on his tongue again <333

but i like when they beg 🥺

like fuck can you imagine as soon as you get home, he just sinks to his knees, grabs onto your hips, and starts nuzzling between your legs. he barely let you close the door all the way before just throwing himself at you like this, and honestly, he wouldn't care if that door was wide open right now so anyone could see. you hear him murmuring against the fabric of your clothes, so you pull him back by the hair and tell him to say exactly what he wants.

"please baby," he begs, blinking up at you with a slight pout pursing his lips, "please let me eat you out. please baby i've been thinking about your pussy all day. i wanna put my mouth on you please let me make you cum."

fuck imagine him begging like that while you're driving, his hand sliding between your legs and stroking your folds over your panties. his fingertips circle your clit, getting you just as worked up as he is, and he all but moans when he feels that forming wet patch from the arousal gathering at your entrance.

"please, can you pull over?" he whines, leaning on your shoulder, "please just for a minute. i just wanna taste you real quick. i promise i'll be quick."

and to his credit he is quick. as soon as the car comes to a stop on the side of the road, he wastes no time bending over the center console and shoving your panties to the side, slipping his tongue all along your folds and lapping at you eagerly. he knows exactly how to please you, exactly how to lick and suck on your clit to have you gasping out stuttered sighs and gushing into his mouth. but he can't just stop at one. one burst of bliss, one wet rush of liquid heat onto his tongue isn't enough, he has to taste you more. so he makes you cum over, and over, and over again as much as you'll allow, until you've completely flooded his senses until the only thing he can see, the only thing he can smell, the only thing he can taste on his tongue, is your pussy.

fuck he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth off you no matter what, way too desperate for your pussy. you wouldn't even be able to do household chores, because every time you bend over, you'd feel his hands spreading you open wide, and feel his breath tickling your skin as he begs you to let him lick your pussy. and of course you let your baby boy have what he wants, as long as he asks nicely first. his wet tongue always feels so good upon your heated flesh, so you let him taste you to his heart's content, turned on beyond belief whenever he finds release just from eating you out. he can't help it. he gets so aroused by the eroticism of it all, being able to make someone as hot as you cum whenever he wants, watching the way you fall apart for him every time while he savors the flavor of your essence, that he can't help but cum untouched almost every time.

[anjelicawrites]

It's not me if I am not writing a poly; with Gale and John being so joined at the hip, I couldn't help myself.

NSFW and 18+only please.

Warnings: kissing, oral (f receiving), biting, public sex (they are in a warehouse and someone pops in), a bit of overstimulation.

Join the war effort, they said. You’ll see the world and help our boys fight the Nazis! You had imagined yourself in many different situations, never huddled in one of the most hidden warehouses, your back to John’s front and Gale’s head hidden under your Army issued skirt.

John’s mustache tickles your neck when he sucks kisses and hickeys on the side of your neck, his left hand splayed between your breasts to keep you upright when your legs start quivering too much, the harsh sucking on your abused clit makes standing up all the more difficult.

You want to call their names, beg for mercy, for relief, for something you can’t even name, lost in the pleasure Gale’s soft mouth is giving you.

You should have known this was in the cards, those two are joined at the hip and look forlorn when separated, what did you think could happen?

Gale’s hands grab your hips to plaster his face tighter to your core, his tongue licks the rim of your hole teasingly, making you keen with the way he teases you.

“Shh.” John’s big hand flies to your mouth when he hears the door opening.

You’re too lost in pleasure to immediately realize and try to dislodge the roughened palm from your lips; when you hear the footsteps you panic, you three will be in huge troubles if someone finds you three in such a compromising position!

Gale’s ruffled head of hair pops out from under your skirt, in the dim light you can see the wetness on his beautiful lips; his blue eyes fixate on yours, now as big as saucers, and on his friend’s. A silent dialogue passes between the two of them and you tremble when you see the way Gale’s lips turn upwards.

“Keep quiet, sweetheart.” John’s voice is low in your ear.

You can see Gale brunch your skirt up your hips, his hands silently gliding up your legs to move your panties aside again; before you can say anything, John turns your head and kisses you, his hand cupping your nape to keep your lips on his, as Gale starts licking your cunt again with slow, precise swipes.

If you still had your marbles, you’d marvel at how unafraid the two of them are, even with people rummaging around, but you are busy kissing John, desperate to smother your moans when Gale’s tongue starts fucking you with intent. The hand you don’t have in John’s hair finds home on Gale’s head, his fingers like iron on your hips as he pushes his face impossibly close to your center, teasing your clenching muscles, his nose tight against your clit, the pleasure so overwhelming you can feel your body shake in their embrace.

An almost snarl dies between your lips and John’s, his tongue busy playing with yours, his hand a manacle that keeps your face plastered on his, and your body from falling on the floor.

You can feel tears falling down your cheeks when Gale’s lips find your clit again and he sucks, harsh, with intent, wanting you to come all over his face; you want to scream your pleasure, but John’s hand is unforgiving on your nape and all your can do is follow Gale’s face with your hips and kiss John savagely, almost biting his lower lip in your passion.

You’re deaf to the sounds around you, the pleasure robbing you of all the senses that are not focusing on their lips on yours. The waves of pleasure crest and crest with every suck and kiss on your body, both men forcing you to fly higher and higher, until you crash, with a desperate scream drowned by John’s lips.

Your body folds on the floor, Gale’s arms ready to welcome you in warm embrace and you kiss your own essence from his face; it takes you a moment to hear silence again: whomever was here has left, without hearing a single lewd sound.

You nuzzle Gale’s neck and he lets you with a soft smile on his lips; you squeak, surprised, when you feel John’s long fingers moving your panties aside, reaching your still clenching hole.

Before you can say a single world, you hear Gale’s deep voice in your ear.

“Are you ready for round two? Because we are.”

Yes, of all the situations you’ve imagined to be, being loved by those two courageous men has exceeded all your expectations.

[buggy-samaaa]

Touching his neck...stump. yep. Smut. Non-con? IDK THIS IS WEIRD

---

You had been babysitting Buggy's head lately, and the two of you had hit it off. Buggy flirted incessantly, and you returned the flirts just as much, to the detriment of the rest of the crew's sanity.

One day, you asked Buggy an interesting question.

"Can you feel your ... um. I'm not sure what to call it. The stump? Of your neck."

Buggy raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah, it's part of my body, duh."

You were still curious about it. "It looks really smooth. Can I touch you there?"

Buggy tried to squirm away as you reached out for him. "Wha-- No!! That's weird!"

"Why?? Does it tickle or something? C'mon, let me touch!"

Buggy tried to hop back with the momentum of his head turning, but he ended up falling and presenting the stump to you. "Ah, shit," he muttered. "This is not permission! I'm simply in an unfortunate position! Lift me up, now!"

It was eerily smooth, the stump. So perfectly flat. Surely it felt like skin, but it looked rubbery? You wondered if it would feel slippery like a sting ray.

"You're doing a lot of not-helping right now," Buggy said, trying to roll and get a look at you, but he just managed to fall sideways and squish his cheek against the table. "Ow! Babe I'm serious, don't touch me there."

You inched forward, still sorely tempted by the wiggling mass.

"Hey-- HEY--" Buggy started shouting as your flat palm got closer to his neck stump. "WAIT WAIT WAIT--"

It was too late, you had already pressed your palm against him. It WAS slippery. And soft, but it had no give to it. Like touching, well, a stump of a tree, but it was... flesh. It was quite possibly the strangest thing you'd ever touched. Then you realized that Buggy had gone silent for once.

Buggy was biting his lip, hard, eyes squeezed shut. You blinked and pulled your hand away, which caused him to release his breath and open his eyes. "Okay, you've had your fun, now get me up."

"What does it feel like?" You asked, still ignoring his request.

"If I answer, will you PLEASE set me upright?"

"Yes."

Buggy searched for the words. "It's like... I have a wound, and someone pushed their hand inside of it and felt around. But it doesn't hurt. Just feels... super unsettling." He shuddered, remembering the sensation. Buggy waited for you to pick up his head and replace it on the table, but you weren't moving to do so. "...Babe?" he said tentatively. Then he gasped involuntarily when you set two fingers against his stump. "C'mon, you promised--" he was cut off by another gasp when you slowly caressed it. "Baby, you gotta stop," he begged, getting slightly pink in the face.

"It seems like... you kinda like it," you say with surprise. "Is that true?" You run your thumb along the edge slowly. Buggy made a high-pitched sound and shuddered, growing pinker.

"N-No!" he said unconvincingly. But he let out a little moan when you ran your knuckles across the skin. Then he felt your hair tickle his neck as you got close, on your knees in front of the table. "Oh, God," he mumbled, sweating, and he swallowed hard.

You hesitated before you leaned in and breathed against his stump.

"Oh, God oh God oh God," Buggy kept mumbling, starting to pant.

You pressed a soft, slow kiss against the center of his stump.

"Ffff--Fuck--" Buggy said thickly, almost wheezing.

Then you licked it, a long stripe ending in another sweet kiss.

Buggy's tongue lolled out of his mouth as it opened wide with a strangled moan. "Ah--Babe--Please--" he cried, breathing shakily.

Suddenly, the doorknob squeaked. Buggy let out a relieved groan when you quickly stood and placed his head upright where it had been before. Sanji walked in with a smile. His smile faltered when he realized how heavily both of you were breathing, and he noticed your red faces and lack of eye contact. Sanji backed up to the door, opened it again, and left the room awkwardly.

"He knows!" Buggy hissed at you.

"As if he could ever guess!" You hissed back. "He probably thought we were just kissing!"

"Yeah, 'cause I get covered in sweat when I kiss somebody," Buggy spat back at you sarcastically. "Either he knows, or my reputation as a make-out magician has gone completely out the window."

You both sat in seething silence for a moment. "It did feel good though, didn't it?" you asked with a mischievous smile.

Buggy pouted and turned his head away as much as he could. "Once I get my body back, you're gonna wish you'd never tried anything."

"Don't threaten me with a good time. I'll do it again and more, just you wait."