#but also why would I do that when I can just. match. and be accommodating to the point of confusion.

[konigslittleliebling]

No I’m sorry

How do you meet boxer König?! I need a full breakdown, then I need to know if he’s as brutal in bed as he is in the ring 😌

Will send memes

hey meme queen 🫂 ma’am, yes ma’am 🫡

MDNI. rough sex, raw sex, big size difference, size kink, mention of creampie.

you met at his first match. he was a middleweight back then, and you were one of the ring girls. he’d caught your eye straight away, but you didn’t think he’d notice you. you were just another piece of lycra carrying a woman. your skimpy, satin clothing melded to you like a membrane, your ridiculous stilettos boosting you a good half a foot from the floor as you did laps of the ring, holding that round’s number above your head with a plastic smile.

but he had noticed you. he noticed how you clearly didn’t want to be there, at least not doing what you were doing. he saw the way you’d look away if he caught you staring, and the blush that would creep to your face when he did. so that night, after he ended the fight at the premature fifth round having knocked out his opponent, you were surprised to see him waiting for you outside the changing room. he said he wanted you in his corner, and the rest is history.

now he’s the heavyweight champion, sporting the belt and a prideful smile. you’re his wife, sporting the band of gold and a prideful smile. he’s a passionate fighter, earning him his rightful glory. he’s also a passionate lover, earning him his rightful title: husband.

an unforgiving man behind the rope barrier, and just as much so in the gym. he actually has to box cow carcasses since you can’t afford to keep replacing the punching bags he destroys. unfortunately for your cunt, that isn’t replaceable.

look, he’s almost seven feet and 200 pounds of muscle. he’s not one for easing his ten inches of cock into the watering mouth of your little pussy. if you want it, you’ll get it. he’ll prepare you first; stretching you gradually on the three thick fingers that perfectly replicate the width of his shaft. he always starts with one, since even the singular girth of an individual digit can sometimes be too much for your tight hole :(

only once he’s satisfied that he won’t tear you in half, he’ll slot inside of you in one slow but swift thrust. his entrance is always smooth, snuggly burrowing into your cunny. you’re always quick to adapt since he takes such care in ensuring you’ll be able to accommodate him.

which is why he’s never gentle once he’s inside of you. you can take it like a champ, he knows you can. and you’re a good girl for him every time, enduring the way he thrashes against you with zero complaints — but vocalising your appreciation with the way you claw at his back and moan into the pocket of his open mouth — tongues knotted.

and he likes it rough, too. he gets the shit beaten out of him for a living, and gets paid to do the same. apparently he’s the best in the world at punching people’s lights out. his belt says so! so no, they’ll be no soft and meaningful candle-lit love-making. he wants you to fuck his cock the same way he ravages the thing between your legs.

it’s a little pitiful: how he has to lower you onto his erect prick like a forklift because you can’t lift yourself high enough to sink onto the stiff rod of his cock. but, the way he drops you dead like a sack of potatoes onto his girth, causing his fat purplish head to punch your cervix like it’s the face of an opponent, almost makes you cream around him immediately.

and he has to manually bounce you atop him, since your much shorter legs can never find enough leverage to lift your body up and down his length; but he doesn’t mind that one bit. it inflates his ego — how you can’t even fuck yourself on his dick without him having to hold your hand to balance you, or guide your hips :(

oh, and his package always remains unwrapped. you’ll just have to live with cum-filled knickers, won’t you.

[xoshize]

Cregan Stark NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Cregan Stark x fem/wife reader (18+).

Warnings: a lot, I don't like writing them down because I already know I'll forget some.

Author's note: I admit I would have preferred to write this first as an introduction to the character as I imagine him (But things went differently hahah). Thanks for your attention and I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

I think Cregan is the type to ask you right after if you're okay, I mean he's much bigger than you and most likely when he's about to come he can't control himself and might leave bruises. If that was the case, he would immediately caress the area gently "Why didn't you tell me before?" he would say, looking at you with worried eyes. The next day, before you wake up, he would go ask the maester for a lotion. Aside from that, he would definitely prepare a warm bath for the two of you, just to relax your sore muscles.

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

A = aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

B = body parts (Their favorite body parts of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cregan's favorite body parts might be his shoulders and arms. Come on, he's a guy who gets turned on when you grab his shoulders for support or when you can't help but stare at his biceps.

Yours are definitely your eyes and hands. He loves your gaze, lost in love with him, and your hands are so much smaller than his that he could cover them with just one of his (and if they're big, don't worry, he'll love them just as much).

C = cum (Anything to do with cum)

So, I guess he definitely comes inside you almost all the time, although sometimes he prefers to come on your stomach to show you how well disposed he is, just to make you forget about all the other men that have ever crossed your mind.

D = dirty secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

If I'm being honest, I don't know what dirty secret Cregan has. I mean, I'm sure he has one but I don't know what it is. Maybe it could be to fuck you on the barrier, just to make you feel the chill of the cold and the heights as well as the fear of not knowing what's on the other side of the barrier except death.

E = experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Wow, Cregan is definitely experienced and definitely knows what he's doing. How can a man that powerful not know how to have sex, come on, we're kidding ourselves. And then he has ten children (Ten children, you heard me right!) and I really don't think he's the type to get drunk and have sex when he comes back from a dinner, he has to be careful what he does and he has to be sober every moment he does it with you, to savor you at the best.

F = favorite positions

Cregan's favorite position is missionary, you can't tell me this man doesn't love eye contact while he fucks you. He also loves cowgirl, the way your hips move drives him crazy (He'll let you do it especially when he's tired, which is most of the time given his job). Another position is from behind, he loves to push your head into the mattress while he's practically leaning on you.

G = goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?)

He's definitely a serious man in bed, sex for him is a serious thing, like a ceremony. Probably a mischievous smile every now and then, looking at you with practically tears in your eyes.

H = hair (How well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

Absolutely yes, I don't think he shaves except for his beard, it keeps him warmer that way, right? and it's the same with you, he doesn't care that much. The hair definitely match the drapes since he has dark hair.

I = intimacy (How are they during the moment?)

I'm sure that during the act, he is very attentive (As I said before). He talks to you and reassures you most of the time, kissing your neck and leaving little hickeys to show all the other men that in the end you are his. He will always ask you if you want or not to do something, to give you the best of pleasure.

J = jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

In my opinion Cregan is not one to masturbate, I mean, he has you! why would he do it if he knows that you will practically always please him.

K = kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink absolutely all his life, he has 10 kids! I mean, how could he not like it. The fact of imagining you with a nice belly drives him crazy.

Size kink it's no joke either, he loves comparing you to himself, noticing how much smaller you are.

L = location (Favorite places)

I think Cregan Stark has only one favorite place, the bedroom. He is a man of honor and I don't think he would want to do it anywhere other than the bedroom. Honor aside, I don't think he even likes the idea of ​​doing it anywhere else except the barrier (Which will most likely remain just a dream). I think he is the type of person who requires a lot of privacy and would prefer to take his time with you.

M = motivations (What turns them on, gets them going)

His motivations for keeping him going and getting him turned on are two: seeing you play with children and the way you treat them, knowing that every man in Winterfell doesn't stand a chance with you.

N = no (Something they wouldn’t do)

What he would definitely never do is force you to do something you don't want to do, he's too good of a man/husband.

O = oral (Preference in giving or receiving)

I think Cregan likes both, but I'd say receiving more. Feeling your mouth around his cock drives him completely crazy but when he does it to you, he loves it too much when you put your hands in his hair and throw your head back in pleasure.

P = pace (Are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Cregan is a guy who usually does it slowly and sensually, giving you pleasure little by little. Sometimes though, when maybe you make him nervous or jealous, he would grab your arm "That's enough" he would say and immediately take you to the bedroom. He would make you understand why you did something wrong and the fact that you should never do it again if you don't want to see this side of him again.

Q = quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often)

As I've said a couple of times, Cregan likes to take his time so he won't do anything hastily.

R = risk (Are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Cregan wouldn't risk being caught by other people, he doesn't want to lose his dignity so easily (What would the people think if they found out? is the Lord of Winterfell the kind of person who does it wherever he likes? what would they think of his wife? no, no, he would never allow that.)

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

He could last for 2 or 3 rounds, it depends if he is too tired or if he put too much effort in the previous one. Besides that, it also depends on you, how far can you push it? whatever the answer will be, he will satisfy you in some way.

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

Absolutely not, I don't think there were any sex toys back then hahah (If there were, the answer is the same, no. He prefers to please you with his body, no extraneous stuff)

U = unfair (How much they like to tease)

Cregan doesn't look like a guy who teases you, I mean, being Lord of Winterfell and then teasing you makes him look like a child and he doesn't like that. He has to look like a serious man, who just gets annoyed by these little games.

V = volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Cregan could be quite loud during the act. He would let out little moans of pleasure, closing his eyes. Of course, not so loud that other people would hear it... he could never forgive himself for that. He only lets himself go when he is with you so I must say that is a good sign of trust on his part (He doesn't always appear so weak).

W = wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

I think Cregan would love to take you to a hidden place, one that only he knows about. On horseback together, you ride to a small pond with dark water. Under a beautiful weeping willow tree you lie down next to each other and you would talk about anything, read books or he would even let you fight him with a wooden sword (A real sword would be too dangerous for you hahah, he would be more afraid for you than for him).

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

Well come on, we all know that under all that dressing gown there are two powerful shoulders and a beautiful v line (I also imagine a happy trail up to... you get the idea).

Y = yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It depends, there are times when he can't stand talking to other men in the council and listening to the same old complaints from the citizens every single day and so he has to vent some tension... so be prepared when you see him coming into the room with a hand on his neck and a huff. Other times he does it for the pure pleasure of doing it, or he sees it in your eyes when you want him.

Z = zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Right away, as soon as he finishes bathing with you or five minutes after he regains his breathing. He would get comfortable with one hand on your belly, gently massaging the area until his movements stop, then you turn around and see him already snoring deeply (What an old man).

[hederasgarden]

How do you think ATJ characters would be with a Chubby!reader? I have some ideas and I'd love to hear yours! -🍒 anon

Aside from maybe Tom Ryder, it seems like most of his characters would be open to a plus-size girl. However, I do think there are two characters in particular who would definitely prefer it.

Warning, the following touches on body image and self-esteem issues, dieting, and Tom being gross. This is definitely not an exhausting list of things discussed below. There is also smut and extreme fluff. Thanks @ryebecca for looking this over.

You cannot tell me this man doesn’t go feral for some thick thighs, a soft belly, and full breasts. He’s a big guy himself, and he’d definitely appreciate a chubby girl, especially since your softness contrasts so beautifully with how rough and hard his world could be. Seeing you in yoga pants would be a revelation. The second you’re easing into the downward dog pose, Sergei's pouncing on you, more than happy to have you right there on the floor, sweaty and hot.

I definitely think he’d be the type to build your confidence with slow, steady praise that’s genuine and comforting. He also wouldn’t let you talk down about yourself, not even for a second. Every time you'd start to doubt or criticize your body, Sergei would shut it down firmly. He’d shower you with compliments, making sure you never forget how beautiful you are in his eyes. It wouldn’t be just about physical looks either.

He’d constantly be touching you, whether it's a soft caress as he passes you in the kitchen or something more deliberate as he guides you to lay back on the bed for him, his hands are always on your body. I think he’d love having you ride him so he could see everything he loves about your beautiful body and he knows it would help you get more comfortable and confident. And when it comes to eating you out, he wants you to leg lock him in the danger zone so he can drown in your cunt. He’s got big shoulders, perfectly able to accommodate your thick thighs.

One of his favorite things is after sex when you’re still naked and your soft form is pressing against his. He loves to wrap that muscular arm around your soft belly and bask in your full figure.

Listen, I have nothing but VIBES and my past experience, but I feel it in my bones that Ives specifically loves a chubby girl. To quote @clairewritesandrambles , “He looks like he’d love to meet a shy girl who thinks she can’t be wanted that way and turn her into a confident little freak.”

He would love to eat you out from behind. In fact, why would he want it any other way? It's either doggy style so he can enjoy your thick thighs and hips or cowgirl so he can see everything else. I also feel like he’d appreciate one of those boudoir books from his girl where she’s wearing sexy lingerie and embracing her body with confidence. He doesn’t need porn, just that book and a few minutes alone.

As for the others….

I think what really catches his attention is your personality. Whether you're the sweet, demure type, shocked by his vulgar mouth and squirming under his intense advances, or you're quick to throw it right back at him, matching each sharp retort with one of your own, refusing to give him an inch unless he earns it, he's smitten.

Once he's with you, Tangerine would definitely be the type to teach you how to dress to flatter your curves, making sure you see just how sexy you really are. He’d love to fuck you in front of a mirror and wouldn’t let you come until you agreed with him about just how good you looked.

If you even think about ordering a salad or something less than your usual favorite when you're out and about, he'd be annoyed.

"Oh, come on, luv," he snaps, snatching the menu out of your hands. He turns to the waiter, pinning him with an intense look. "She'll have the pasta carbonara. Extra garlic bread." He lets out an exaggerated huff, shaking his head at you. "A salad? Fuck off."

If he thought someone had implied you needed to be on a diet, he'd be furious. "A diet?" he repeats, leaning over the table, his blue eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Someone say somethin’ to you?"

I’m sure a lot of his desires are shaped by the societal expectations of the time and I believe they did appreciate wide hips and a fuller chest back then. So, I’m sure Friedrich would admire those features on you. But honestly, I think he’d be even more taken with your gentle nature, your proper and demure behavior. He’d want to know that you were intelligent, well-read, and capable of being a gracious hostess and a loving, attentive mother to his children.

But I certainly don’t think he’d be disappointed by your soft belly and all that flesh to devour once he had a chance to see everything on the wedding night.

Honestly, he seems the type to like a chubby girl every once and a while, but would just be so fucking awful about it. If you’re into degradation it might be a good time, but not even how good he looks in this movie would make me want to spend the night with him. I feel like he’d just talk a lot about himself and whatever weird protein drink he lives off of. The sex would be great but he’d just be out of pocket the whole time.

[bookshelf-dust]

strawberry love

patrick zweig x fem!reader

gif by @beelarson

word count: 2,037

warnings: swearing, a smidge of anxiety, this is a sort of situation where reader matches patrick’s freak aka they are smartasses to each other, flirting, a little drinking but both reader + p are of age

synopsis: patrick, your not-quite-boyfriend-but-might-as-well-be-because-you’re-both-down-bad, wants you to spend the night at his place. your anxious brain hates change in routine, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

a/n: first fic for the challengers boys!! i am very pleased with how this turned out and i think i’ve managed to get a hold of patrick’s mannerisms and his personality. this is also a bit of a new dynamic for me, but i think this fic’s atmosphere is a good one. happy reading <33

————

You are so fucking grateful that Patrick is on the other end of this phone call and not sitting next to you because, if he was, he’d see how your fingers are shaking and lift them up, going “What’s this?” with that stupid fucking smirk of his. 

And he’d look at you in that teasing way that makes you hate him more than anything.

“So, what’re you thinking? Got some excuse as to why you won’t come spend the night at my place?”

You can hear the grin growing in size across his face. You’re sure he’s sitting back on his hands with the phone on speaker as if this is the most casual experience of his life. 

“Patrick, I—”

“Be honest with me here, angel. S’all I’m askin.’ We need a fuckin’ code or something now?”

“I’m just anxious as shit and any change in routine fucks with me and so that makes me not want to put my brain through that by coming over and also…it’s you.”

He laughs. “It’s me?”

“Yes! You’re too fucking relaxed all the time and you’ve always got your googly eyes on me a-and it’s like you want me to join a damn cult, Zweig!”

Patrick laughs even harder. “You need someone to counter your constant state of panic. And where else would I have my eyes?”

“Oh, fuck me sideways, you shithead.” He hears you slap your palm to your face. “Pain in my ass.”

“You want me to pick you up, pretty girl? I bet that’d ease some of your stress.”

You sigh, all dramatic and high-pitched. Your heart is doing somersaults against your rib cage. That would help, actually. Then you don’t have to plan what time to leave, accommodate for traffic, shove all your shit in the car and let your thoughts engulf you on the ride over. 

“Y-yeah, fine. Whatever.”

Patrick knows that tone. “Hey. You know I’m gonna take care of you for real, right? That I just wanna see you and get you to be present for a little, yeah?”

Your voice softens. “I know, Patrick. Just let me pack an overnight bag, okay? And text me when you’re on the way.”

“Why don’t you pack a few extra things? You know, just in case you can’t get enough of me and need to stay a few more nights.”

You hang up the phone, leaving Patrick giggling to himself against his kitchen counter. 

————

Patrick’s lips are warm when he kisses both your cheeks in quick succession. “Hi, dove.” He takes your bag from your shoulder and walks off toward his bedroom, putting your things down next to his dresser. 

He’s back quicker than should be humanly possible, bringing that cocky ass smile with him. 

“So what, you come over and don’t even want a hug from your favorite person on the planet?”

You grin, and he flushes with excitement over that victory. “Oh, fuck off,” you say, walking into his arms. 

He smells faintly of nicotine and mints, probably those ones that Sonic gives you because he has a stockpile of them in his glove box.

His chest is firm and hot beneath you, and when you press your cheek to it your mind races with thoughts you don’t want it to have. So naturally, you pull away slightly, keeping your hands on his hips. It makes him bite his lip. 

“You smoke today?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Yeah, why, you want one?”

“You keep it up, I'm not gonna be able to hug my favorite person on the planet that much longer. Pretty pink lungs gonna fuck you over.”

He lowers his head and levels with you. “You want me to quit?”

“I can’t make you, Patrick.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. He loves how you say his name.

“Oh, you could make me do anything, baby.” His teeth shine at you, and you swat his stomach. You go to push him away but he grabs your waist and starts kissing all over your face, the top of your head, the tips of your ears. He does it again and again in an effort to make you laugh. 

When you feel his fingers dance at your sides you escape him, “Don’t fucking try it!”

When the laughter in the room dies out, Patrick takes your hand and walks you to the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll make you a drink.”

You sit on one of his two barstools, stifling a laugh at the pitiful creak it makes. “Do you even have anything other than beer or whiskey? Because I don’t want either of those.” 

Patrick opens the refrigerator, motioning as if he’s clutching an aching chest. “C’mon, angel, don’t hurt my feelings. You think I wouldn’t buy the things I know my baby likes?” 

You brace your elbows on the counter and try to peek in the fridge. It’s not necessary though because he’s pulling out a container of frozen strawberries for you to see. 

“You got me stuff for—” 

“Strawberry daiquiris? Duh.” 

He places two bottles of rum on the counter, one full and the other half empty. You watch as he moves around the kitchen, gathering up the parts to the blender, which are for some reason in different cabinets. He gets out these fancy glasses (his only ones) someone gave him one time. 

“And,” he starts, “I remembered that you like it with a little less rum than most recipes call for so you’ll actually enjoy it.”

You tilt your head at him. He’s so pretty and he remembered all that shit just for you. “Lean over here for a sec, Patrick.”

He does as you say without question, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose. He loves that. The first time you did it he tackled you and asked you to do it again and again. 

You kiss his forehead and then the back of this hand, because boys should have their hands kissed too. 

Patrick’s cheeks are on fire. You take his face in your hands and let your gaze travel over each and every one of his pretty freckles. Your thumb rubs across his bottom lip and he moves closer, desperate for you to do anything. To give him anything. 

“Thank you for bringing me over here just to liquor me up,” you quip, your smile growing fast, eyes crinkling with humor. 

He nips the palm of your hand. “Yep. Just hopin’ to get you relaxed enough so you’ll confess your love for me, princess.”

You move away from his grasp, grinning softly at him and thinking how easily you’d confess that to him anyway. “Get back to work now, Zweig. Your strawberries have captivated me. And the curly straws.” 

His laughter is contagious.

————

Two strawberry daiquiris, and some of Patrick’s later, your anxious brain has finally settled down. You feel completely calm, and being with him makes you feel so comfortable that you don’t worry about adapting to a new space.

You register that he’s been distracting you all evening. He made your favorite drink, he’s been showering you with affection, he put on an episode of Jeopardy because he knows you like that smart feeling you get when you answer a question right. 

You’re laying on his chest, one hand snaked up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on the soft of his stomach. His skin is unbelievably warm and your fingers run back and forth over the short trail of curls there. 

“Who is Donald Sutherland, dumbass,” you say, annoyed that no one knew who played Mr. Bennet in Joe Wright’s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. 

Patrick’s hand pushes under your shirt and rests on your spine. He starts scratching your skin lightly, up and down, up and down. You blink up at him. “That feels good.”

“Yeah? All you gotta do is ask and I’ll do it.”

“Well, will you please keep scratching my back for me, Patrick? It’s very soothing. Keeps me present.”

“‘Course I will, angel.”

“I know you like your physical affection,” you say, squeezing his hip lovingly. He kisses the top of your head as if to confirm your statement. 

“Have I succeeded in providing an anxiety-free sleepover environment for my girl?”

You push up onto your elbows so you can make eye contact with him. He leans his head back a little bit, teasingly making himself look more serious as if you don’t always have his full attention. 

Your eyes move from his to his lips and back. You start to nod. “You have. It feels like all the outside stressors don’t exist here.”

Patrick leans into your hand when you put it against his cheek. He is beaming. 

“You wanna go to bed, dove?”

“Yes, please.”

Patrick heaves you upward and over his shoulder, making you howl with laughter. You both get ready for bed quietly, doing your respective routines and getting everything settled. 

You meet Patrick in bed, padding over to the mattress in your panties and a big t-shirt. Your hands are keeping the shirt pulled down on instinct, making it look like a dress. When he sees you, he thinks he might combust. It takes everything in him not to. 

You’re so fucking sweet and perfect and gorgeous and you’ve got no clue. And you’re in his bedroom, pushing onto his bed and laying with him. Him, of all people. 

You roll onto your side and face him. He’s a little stubbly and his curls are a mess, but somehow he looks more gorgeous like this than when he’s all prettied up. He smells like toothpaste and that Old Spice deodorant he uses. Your bare knee brushes his, but neither of you move away.

Your gaze falls on the only source of light in the room aside from the moon; the children’s night light that looks like a tennis ball. Art got him that as a Christmas gift, and Patrick would be lying if he said he didn’t actually like it. 

You move your hand close enough to his body that you can feel the warmth of him, but not enough that you make any more contact. 

“Patrick, I don’t think friends treat each other the way we treat each other.” You realize your fingers are trembling. 

His smile lines grow as a grin spreads across his face. “You think so?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. 

You nod, still looking at the tennis ball. Then his fingers are on your chin, coaxing you into looking at him. “D-do you think we should be more than friends?” 

Patrick’s hand hasn’t left your face. His thumb traces over your eyebrow. “I think we already are.”

“Could we maybe m-make that definitive?”

“Is this you really confessing your love for me?”

You roll your eyes so hard you might as well have rolled out of the bed. “Fuck off.” You swat at his chest and attempt to move away from him. 

He’s laughing and then he’s pulling you flush against his body, securing you there with a firm arm around your back. “You want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?”

“I hate you.”

“Well, yeah. And I want you to be my girlfriend, angel.”

“So I can make googly eyes at you as often as you do me now?”

He squeezes the fat of your hip. “Oh, you already do. You just don’t notice how obvious it is that you’re infatuated with me. You looked like you wanted to eat me alive in the kitchen earlier.”

“The bad part is that I know you’d let me.”

“So you don’t deny the allegations?” He holds his fist up to your mouth, mimicking a microphone. 

“No, Patrick. I do want you to be my boyfriend. And I want to do this all the time. I hate how easy you make everything.” He chuckles, biting his thumbnail. “It’s not natural to be this calm. And I hate that you’ve made me a sap.” His brow raises just before you continue, “I brought clothes for like, three nights.”

Patrick hugs you to him so quickly, laughing into your cool skin. 

“I fucking knew you would.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[starryjkoo]

"the best trips i've had in my life"

I’m still stuck on Jungkook saying that the AYS trips were the best of his life? That’s actually a crazy thing to say when you look back on those trips and where they went and what exactly they did. Hearing “best trip of your life” you would expect something more grand, but for Jungkook it really was just hanging out with Jimin, doing pretty mundane activities and eating a lot of delicious food. Somehow these trips were impactful enough that he felt they were the best of his life? That’s crazy to me.  

Sapporo was beautiful, but Connecticut was… Connecticut lol, it’s pretty but not that interesting compared to other places they’ve traveled and Jeju is somewhere they’ve both already been plenty of times. The accommodations in Sapporo were especially nice, but CT was a camping van and the house from my suburban nightmares. The Jeju house was gorgeous but not anything particularly new for them either. 

The activities? They definitely did a lot of fun things, but most of them were things they had already done before, some of them even on other seasons of BV or with other members, friends, and on “private” vacations. A lot of the trips were actually filled with pretty mundane activities. Jimin even said in Sapporo that was just how he usually spends his time at home. It gave them an excuse to eat lots of delicious food, but that's hardly the only time they’ve done that either.

And yes, obviously they would enjoy these trips because they basically planned them. But that’s another thing, how compatible Jikook are and how well they click because not everyone would enjoy this kind of trip. Even TH questioned why he came at first because they already do all that in Seoul anyways, or how he went off to play golf one morning. So obviously Jikook were going to enjoy AYS, but I still never thought that these trips would end up being the best of JK’s life? Eating, taking drives and playing around with Jimin really topped every other trip he’s ever been on? 

The Jimin part is important because while some of the activities like snowboarding were fun on their own, what made the little things entertaining was how Jikook could take any simple activity and make it so silly and fun. I especially loved things like Jikook shining their bedside lamps at each other and how delighted JK was with that game, how happy he was when JM started playing along with him. Playing cards or having dinner with someone or playing in a pool, shining your bedside lamp at them or taking a drive wouldn’t be fun if you weren’t with someone who made those kinds of things fun and dynamic, if they couldn’t match your humor and energy. In fact some of those things could be pretty boring or tedious with the wrong person. 

There’s so many delightful examples of Jikook being adorably silly while doing these simple things like the mock cooking show in Sapporo, the way they made that scuzzi jacuzzi so fun with the snow, or Jikook coming up with the pool slap game and being so proud they showed it to TH and taught it to him the next day. You could list off so many examples like this and it’s just one of my very favorite things about AYS and Jikook’s friendship in general. I mean, the amount of mileage they can get out of a tiny pool or some bedside lamps is really crazy. JK talked about how they would be copies of each other if they were the same age and it really shows in AYS.

But what I also think really encapsulates Jikook’s bond is that even when things went wrong, such as in CT, they still had a ridiculous amount of fun and considered it a good trip. The cursed hamburger, Walmart, Jimin’s stomach virus, getting eaten up by mosquitos, getting nailed with rain that felt like hail, JK having a cold, JM getting burned by the motorcycle and then stepped on, JK falling into the river, elbowing JM in the face, JMs nose being bruised half the trip, having a fever, honestly just annoying the hell out of each other lol. But they loved that trip! JK wanted to do twelve more seasons after, they started planning Jeju and future trips before CT was even over, (they signed up to enlist together right after this!), JK recounted the trip to Yoongi with the biggest smile on his face. They enjoyed watching that first episode so much and laughed so hard at moments I didn’t even think were that funny (to be fair they were a little drunk there lmao).  

So, even when things went wrong they still enjoyed their trip immensely because they have the kind of relationship where they can take something bad and bond over the experience, turn it into something positive and memorable, create inside jokes that'll probably last forever. They also never truly got annoyed or stressed out at each other either despite both being sick or tired. You have to be so close and get along with someone so well to be able to do that?

So despite JK going to Jeju & Busan with his 97 liner friends, despite allegedly going to Japan with Eunwoo, despite already going snowboarding with TH and WS, despite any other trips or breaks or BV seasons over the years, despite CT being a mess, Jeju being somewhere they’ve both already been, none of the activities being that new or particularly exciting for them, despite being “company content”, in that moment JK felt so strongly and so positively and so fondly about his AYS experience that they felt like the best trips of his life. You don’t even need JKs words to know that, it was clear by the constant smiles and laughter throughout the show how much he loved it. And what made those trips so fun and impactful was clearly that they were together. That’s just amazing to me? To have someone you get along with so well, someone you have so much fun with and enjoy being around that much? 

I do think these trips offering a break from his insane schedule made them more impactful and meaningful to Jungkook too. You could tell how exhausted he was working nonstop during his solo schedules. Jimin even said in CT he was glad he came because otherwise JK wouldn’t have gotten to do all of those things. It’s funny that solos & tkkrs tried to make it seem like these trips were just piling onto JK’s busy schedule when in fact they seemed to offer him a much needed break to relax and do something fun instead. So the timing of these trips probably did add to why JK loved them so much.

I also think that JK felt so strongly about it specifically in that moment because Sapporo was a pretty emotional trip for them too. Based on JKs words they were also using the trip to make memories to look back on during enlistment, probably also wanted to have one more enjoyable experience before they would have to go away for eighteen months. I think that played a part in this trip feeling more special and sentimental than it ordinarily would have. I thought it was especially sweet how when they were both feeling particularly emotional/melancholy on the train ride they shared that moment together and took comfort in each other. Jimin said that he didn’t think he would have felt excited about the snow in SK, but in Sapporo he loved it so much. And JK saying that he wanted to return to Japan because it was the location of their first trip was terribly sweet. It was a really nice and poignant way to end AYS, because those trips and Sapporo in particular did have a lot of meaning for them, clearly. They truly loved AYS so much.

I have so many other thoughts and feelings about AYS I’d like to unpack eventually but really I think what encapsulates my feelings on AYS is just JK saying that these were the best trips of his life. I guess this is just my really long winded way of saying how special I think Jikook’s bond is. You can’t really argue that JK enjoyed AYS as much as he did for any reason other than that he was with Jimin. Even if JK simply enjoyed getting to take a relaxing trip during his busy schedule, what made a lot of the small things so fun was Jikook’s unique dynamic. That trip wouldn’t have been possible with someone else because quite simply it wouldn't have been the same trip. It had to be Jikook for AYS to be so incredibly relaxing but also have the right amount of activity, eating, and playing, for the simple things to be that enjoyable, the food so prominent, the shared dorky sense of humor, the few moments of softness and vulnerability, the comfortable vibe between them.

I’ve never seen JK yap that much in BTS content either, you can tell how comfortable he is with Jimin in particular and how easy and familiar their dynamic is too. I’ve never honestly seen them that relaxed and stripped back in BTS content before, which was part of the reason I enjoyed AYS so much. I felt like I got to genuinely know them better and I really loved that. They could have made the show more dynamic and entertaining by packing it full of activities or other people, but it seems like the main focus was just doing the things they enjoy doing together and having their ideal vacation, which I massively preferred.

I also thought it was really meaningful that they did their little AYS thing right before they enlisted together. They just really enjoyed that show so much, they really bonded over creating it, had so much fun coming up with the title and the little details, and clearly felt so much genuine fondness for it. For them to end their CH2 with AYS was really meaningful, because that’s literally how they closed out the whole CH2 “solo” era, with something they created together. Just the fact that they were even thinking about AYS in that moment shows how impactful it was for them. Jikook closed out their CH2 together while at the same time entering the next chapter of their lives together too. They just make my heart so warm for real. I really loved AYS so much and I’m so glad that Jikook loved it just as much as we did if not more.

ending this with my favorite Jikook edit ❤️‍🩹

[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[vixstarria]

Another gift

This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going. 

If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more! 

P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2. 

Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  

Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit 

Approximately 2,000 words. 

AO3

 

Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.  

“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached. 

Brooding. Definitely brooding.  

“Looking for something.” 

“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?” 

“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack” 

Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.  

Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.  

He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.  

“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”  

“I haven’t thought about it... Really?” 

“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.” 

“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry. 

You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.  

“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?” 

“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?” 

“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” 

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.” 

“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.” 

“In the middle of the night?” 

“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night” 

“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.” 

You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.  

“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.” 

“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?” 

“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.” 

“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.  

“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly. 

“...No, I don’t” he said absently. 

“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.  

“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.” 

You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued. 

“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered. 

“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back. 

“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.  

You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.  

“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.”��

“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection. 

“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.  

“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away. 

“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.” 

The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.

“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past. 

“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.  

Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders. 

“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion. 

“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!” 

“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”  

He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.  

“No.” 

“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.  

“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.” 

“If this involves setting me on fire again...” 

“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.  

“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries” 

“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze” 

Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.  

Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.  

“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time” 

You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both. 

“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.  

Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence: 

“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”  

“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale. 

“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.” 

~~~~~

Next in series

AO3

[gloomwitchwrites]

Congrats on 1k! That's amazing and so deserved.

Thank you so much for doing a little event for all of us! Could I please request NSFW Alphabet with Kyle Garrick please? I just love him so much.

Thank you so much!

Ugh. Kyle. My husband. My man. I adore him. I might have found my way to TF141 because of Simon Riley but I stayed for Kyle Garrick. I had so much fun coming up with these. Kyle truly deserves to much love. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible. Enjoy!

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

NSFW Alphabet Template

ao3 // 1k follower event masterlist // main masterlist

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

Kyle is an aftercare king. This man is a fucking gentleman. After sex, he’s going to fetch a washcloth to clean you up. He will either make you food, order food, and/or bring it to you. Really, Kyle will tailor aftercare to your needs instead of assuming what you want. He’ll likely suggest several options, and if you can’t seem to decide, he will pick for you. For Kyle, aftercare is as important as the sex itself. He sees it as an extension of the act in every way.

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

Kyle favors his arms because he loves holding you in them. Could be a hug or when the two of you are cuddling, but also loves watching the muscles flex when he’s fucking you. Nothing is sexier to him. His favorite part of you is your hips/waist. It drives him absolutely feral when he can hold onto them during sex.

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

Loves putting it inside and on you but the clean up is not his favorite. It’s why he goes through the trouble of putting towels down.

D = Dirty Secret (what’s a dirty secret of theirs?)

Whenever Price pisses him off (which is rarely) Kyle thinks about how he can get you to work so he can fuck you on/over Price’s desk.

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

Experienced. Absolutely knows what he’s doing, but isn’t arrogant about it. Kyle is confident but it’s because he listens and accommodates to your needs while also expressing his own desires. Kyle is a “is this okay with you?” kind of man.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any that involves him being able to look at your face while you come.

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

More so serious in the moment but knows how to laugh when something happens. Sex isn’t perfect. It is messy and loud, and sometimes a trainwreck, but he’s good natured about it.

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

Kyle is well-groomed. Period. Full stop. Literally don’t need to say more on this matter.

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

Kyle craves intimacy. I would argue that it is his favorite part of sex. Getting off is all well and good but Kyle wants connection with his partner. If there isn’t any connection or intimacy, what’s the point?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kyle doesn’t like to masturbate unless you’re watching.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mirror sex, or anything that allows Kyle to watch him fuck you or watch you fuck him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home, specifically on the bed or sofa. Kyle wants both of you to be comfortable. Plus, he likes to take his time and you can’t really do that anywhere else.

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

Enthusiastic, verbal consent. And by that I mean “I want you to [insert thing you want done to you here], Kyle.” Man is fucking gone. Chomping at the bit. His only response is “yes ma’am/sir” and then it’s on.

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

Voyeurism. He doesn’t want to watch others and doesn’t want others watching him and his partner. Age play or being called “daddy.”

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

Equally enjoys receiving and giving.

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

Depends! If he simply needs to be inside you for a quickie, expect it to be fast and rough, but he’d rather take his time. Slow and sensual with lots of foreplay and intimacy is his preference.

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

Kyle enjoys an impromptu quickie now and again, but Kyle enjoys intimacy with his sex, so I can’t see him having quickies often.

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

Absolutely down to experiment but also needs his partner to know that even he has hard limits and will respect that. Won’t take risks in the bedroom unless the two of you are trying something new. Public sex or potentially getting caught is up in the air. Would be down for a quickie at work but anything that might actually get the two of you in trouble is a no.

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

If Kyle has the entire day to have sex, I would say five rounds and that includes a round of just oral. However, if this is after a long day, he could probably get one in. Just because he does what he does for a living doesn’t mean Kyle has energy for sex after work. I’d say his recovery period between would be the average standard amongst men his age.

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

I can’t see Kyle using toys on himself but absolutely for his partner. He does not shy away from them and would absolutely incorporate them into the bedroom. But he would also make sure that the toys are something you both consent to and pick out together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A bit of a tease but not much. Kyle is more likely to tease when he’s feeling a bit playful. When it comes to general intimacy and connection, physical touch is important to him. Kyle is more likely to tease just day-to-day than during sex.

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

Not loud at all. Kyle has a softer voice in the bedroom, but communicates a lot. Loves to praise and speak softly to you. Absolutely groans and whimpers.

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

Enjoys cock warming between sex sessions.

X = Xtra (an additional headcanon)

Loves it when you praise him back.

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

Decent. He could definitely have sex every day but he doesn’t see it as a requirement in a relationship.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kyle wouldn’t fall asleep until aftercare is done. He’ll check to make sure you’re completely satiated and taken care of first before settling in.

[fakeusernamelol]

Stan and Ford deserve to raise their incest babies together :,(((

YOU KNOW WHAT ANON? FUCK IT, YES, WHY NOT, THE STANCEST NATION DESERVES SOME HAPPINESS FOR ONCE 😤😤😤💖💖💖

For my part i already had the bad ending au and the original BUT WHAT IF I MADE A (really) GOOD ENDING AU??? 🤭🤭🤭

I KNOW IT SOUNDS FUNNY BUT I ACTUALLY ENDED UP LIKING IT so let me explain a little about this other spin-off au??

Its pretty much the same as the original but in this au the science fair accident didn't happen BUT also does a fight nor anything, the boys are a little (WAY) more able to communicate and express themselves and so when ford gets the change to go to west coast he decides to make a plan in order to not leaving aside stan and the kids in new jersey but to go all as the family they were! And so the plan was that they will stay in the college dorm (in secret, good thing they were twins so stan could get access easily and the kids are still little so they can hide them 😉) while stan worked and save enough money to get a small apartment for them to live in same time maintain their childs lol, and with the money stan has already saved all these years since he left school to study they manage to get the kids into kindergarten so they wouldn't be such an issue while both his parents are busy

Plan sounded easy that it really went and it took them harder to get it (at least 3 Ford's phd and a lot of bribery for the roommate not to say nothing about the family living in the campus 🤷) but they finally managed to do it and start to accommodate their lives a little better. About Stanley he's been working in whatever he finds to get as much money he can to his family, say it and he probably has done it: removalist, taxi driver, house painter, cleaner, cashier, yaddah yaddah, He has also had more than one job at the same time but it's not until he saw and ad about boxing matchings with prize included and without thinking he decides to join to get some more money and also why not? Have a little fun 🤭 hes a little rusty because he hasn't practice his boxing skills ever since the twins birth but he still remembers how to give a good left hook and even with all the changes in his body he's still trong so he feels able to. And while Stanford was doing his way into the science world just like he always dreamed, Stanley was slowly gaining a name as a new promise for boxing!

AND SORRY BUT IM GOING TO CUT TILL HERE, I WOULD EXPAND MORE FOR SURE BUT ITS 3AM AND IM SO SLEEPY (was also going to do a drawing of them kn the college years but 😭😭) so yeah sorry it's possibly not the best BUT PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU FW WITH THIS because this au has become a very important to me and i love making silly variations finally some happy shit here 🥺🥺💖💖

[lilacxquartz]

Do you ever think Nanami could be a good yandere?

technically speaking, i believe that everyone can be a good yandere given that yandere/being sick in love, can be fleshed out by exaggerating their existing traits. so… the answer is yes. :)

content warning: yandere talks below—

nanami on the surface is a stoic, yet calm and kind man. he’s caring, protective and sensible. if he were to find himself as the yandere in a relationship or in pursuit of one, i believe that these traits when tweaked correctly, could make him into a believable yandere.

as for what type? i’m thinking perhaps a protective yandere, i do write darker imagines, but i don’t headcanon him as being potentially toxic. this is just my opinion, though!

some things that come to mind include:

• nanami would likely exhibit interest by showing concern for you should you be putting yourself through unnecessary stress or danger; normal on the surface, but a yandere is often extreme, so he would take it upon himself to try and eliminate those factors.

• nanami would present himself as someone loyal and consistent in your life. being a hardworking person who takes his interests to heart, he would retain his position in your life no matter what happens, so you come to associate him with always being there for you.

• nanami would remember the little things you do, perhaps keeping trinkets or a log of every time that you did something kind or notable. being a yandere, he would go over this nightly, obsessing over just how perfect you were in his mind.

• nanami would also notice the little things about you, that nobody else does. he knows you the best, after all, no matter what anyone else claims. it would be subtle things, too, like your expressions in reaction to certain things or if you were feeling off, likely knowing the cause as to why.

• nanami would socially engineer you. he worked a normal office salary man job for a while before he returned to jujutsu society, so he became well versed in networking. he’d figure out everything he needs to know about you, adjusting himself to match your wants and needs.

thinking darker though, what could he possibly do to become a more problematic yandere? nanami as a character definitely wouldn’t, but we’re exaggerating him.

• let’s think back to how he would eliminate the stress factors for you—would he kill for you? i’d think so. he’s a sorcerer, so it wouldn’t be something he’s not done before, at least with living things. cursed spirits aren’t too different to stalkers or those with ill intentions.

• would he abduct you to keep you safe? potentially. he would do it subtly though, like insisting that you were in danger and inform you that something happened, so going back home is not advised. he’d accommodate you so well, though. he knows everything about you, after all, so you wouldn’t even want to leave.

• nanami would likely see himself as the only suitable candidate for your affections, so while he allows you to date perhaps, he would slowly eliminate the competition, leaving you thinking that everyone else had ghosted you. unintentional of course, but in a darker imagine, why wouldn’t he jump the opportunity to comfort you?

so yeah, i feel like he has good potential with being a certain type of yandere, since yandere doesn’t always necessarily mean dark romance. if this is a subject you would like to see explored in a one shot or similar, let me know! <3

[feathermouth]

okay, so im a brainrotted freak, and ive had p.AI.nter on my mind for a while. naturally, i gave the bastard a body! here ya go!

rant/art dump below the cut

first off, p.ai.nter is a short king. mostly because i like the aesthetic, but its also convenient for him! it takes less resources to keep his body going! i imagine he would also wanna be smaller so that he could be more intricate with his art.

now, because he is mobile, the power source becomes an issue. hes an old computer! how does he survive unplugged ?!

well, here, i introduce the wonderful world of BATTERIES!

p.ai.nter would have a battery somewhere in his core, which would be how he keeps himself charged. that also means i get to give him a little cord tail! (for charging purposes, of course.)

i also am giving him a second tail, just for funsies. he deserves a USB drive with his conscience in it. he connected to other tech in the blacksite, so he should be able to keep doing that! because it was a very SAFE and FRIENDLY action on his part!

maybe angsty, but i think that p.ai.nter finds humans a wee bit gross, especially after everything that happened to him. why would he wanna be human shaped?

he wants something mobile and appropriate for a human-dominated world, of course, so he needs to have arms and a torso—but he wants his machinery to be obvious, if that makes any sense. no exposed wires (he is not stupid), but flashy metal bits, visible joint segments, yap!

now, building off of that, p.ai.nter would prefer a bird-like shape to his legs. he would definitely need to go through some manner of physical therapy in order to pilot his new body, and so he needs legs that inherently provide for more balance!

therefore, an excuse to give him anthro legs.

considering how much art p.ai.nter will probably begin creating, he wants something that doesnt stain easily.

a small problem : he doesnt like the look of dark paint! it doesnt match his monitor, and thats awful!

so, he resorts to covering clothes.

p.ai.nters shirts would need to be oversized and flowy to accommodate for his THICK AS FUCK head. so that he can actually put them on without stretching them out, of course.

therefore: oversized sweaters, long skirts, and aprons!

fucking GOLDEN! housewife looking guy! funky!

p.ai.nter wants to be MOBILE! theres so much to do and see! hes been locked down for years, how could he waste a perfectly good body ?!

he has several jointed segments in his torso to aid in movement and rotation, and his limb joints are made out of pliable metal tubes.

it also aids his precision in art! its easier to get clear views without body parts in the way and whatnot.

note: p.ai.nter settled on having five fingers per hand, despite insisting he wanted four for stylistic purposes. five fingers are ideal for human equipment, hes pretty sure.

now, you might be thinking, this guy has a lot going on. does he not overheat? hes a sentient brick?

there is a solution : air holes and internal fans!

a few strategically placed holes cover p.ai.nters body to aid in natural ventilation. its kinda like breathing!

inside of his body, cooling fans are centered in his chest and limbs. they distribute the air more evenly.

he really overheats when hes trying to do too much, such as controlling several devices or thinking about too many things at once!

now, for the behavioral headcanons :

painter has a LOT of fun toying with his new body. he goes on leisurely strolls sometimes, because hes previously never been able to.

his art will improve a lot upon receiving a body! having a new sense of autonomy would be a serious upgrade for him, and he would have many new ways of living. it wouldnt be AS dull to be a sentient AI in an abandoned facility.

he might go find ellies painting and stare sadly at it, though—i assume this theory still holds up? right? please?

sometimes he mimics the faces of other people on his monitor! like, he might draw sebastians eyes and mouth, and just uses that face to talk to him sometimes. as a means of teasing or affection. (he could probably do this before getting a body, but having a body definitely gives him the energy to do silly things like this!) pretty good way to find out how he sees your face, too.

despite p.ai.nter overheating when he runs too many tasks, hes a chronic multitasker! he tries to make the most of his new body, and hes often forced to sit back and slow down.

painter tried to convince his builder—most likely sebastian, with his engineering major and all—to let him have turrets on his arms, but that could become problematic with p.ai.nters mental state, so he agreed to have fake turrets for stylistic purposes only! he likes to keep them on his forearms and thighs, secured with straps that can be taken off. he enjoys pointing them at things and pretending to shoot stuff—which is EXACTLY why he doesnt get to have real guns.

and, after all this buildup, who would i be to not provide some full pictures? <3

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Here's hoping recent events go smoothly, with peace and a bright outcome. With all my love and best wishes, here's a prompt as a distraction:

What goes through a Primarch's (mainly Ras') mind, when they commit a social fumble, fail a simple task or make an accidental slight against a respected figure? Always liked the internal dialogue of Robu when around the Lion, how oddly cute, petty and insecure he can be.

Thank you! And I am so sorry for not getting to this sooner. I've just been tired with treatments. Also I love this question!

Ras (since you mainly were asking for him):

How am I supposed to look more alive?! I'm breathing, am I not?! I am responding to these stupid questions...How was I supposed to know they wanted me to ask how their day was? I do not care, so why would I ask?

All this power, all this strength, a demigod if gods were real....and yet I am incapable of opening this damnable jar without shattering it! Child proof? I just watched a toddler open this, and I could not!

They really think I care that they're offended...they keep complaining and I will swallow them whole.

Lion (30k):

He's so autistic he's not even having thoughts, just looking over at his sons to see how he should be acting. Then use their reaction to see how badly other people THINK he fucked up. Because obviously he didn't fuck up, and everyone else is stupid.

The Lion doesn't fail in tasks, you didn't see him fail, the was the outcome he wanted.

They're angry with me?! I am the first son of the Emperor; they should be grateful I bother listening to their petty grievances.

Dorn:

At least I am not known for my social graces, but I should strive to better accommodate the humans. I forget many cannot read micro expressions or note the slight inflection changes in my voice.

I cannot let this failure happen again. I need write this down and plan how to avoid this in the future. I cannot fail to live up to what is expected of me.

How did I offend? I answered their question honestly; those pillars do not match with the type of tiles used for the roof.

Guilliman:

Throne look at me fumbling around like I'm a child again. Mother would be having a giggle fit over this. Lord of Ultramar forgot his tongue, it seems.

If I keep this up the ecclesiarchy will likely implode from realizing how human I really am. The silver lining to this all, I suppose.

It's just his mind rapid spitfiring practicals and theoreticals on what the best outcome would be to smooth things over if the figure was someone who's good side he needed/wanted to stay on. If they were someone who didn't fall into those two categories than it's likely he meant to offend. He may be a good statesman and understands politicking, but in the 41st man is tired of everyone's shit.

[strazki]

School Bus Graveyard headcanons no one asked for but will still get 😤

Ashlyn has autism. Honestly pretty much canon at this point, considering what we've seen of her, but still

The whole group took a hot second to adjust, but they are now so accommodating to it

Obviously there's the noise issues, but they also recognize when she needs to be alone, and they don't bother her too much about her being so asocial

I’m projecting but I just love these guys

ANYWAY, on a completely different subject, I think Taylor is actually a really good singer! She's just very shy about it

I also think Aiden can definitely play drumset

Top that off with Tyler canonically playing guitar, all you need to do is give Ben a bass or something and then they're basically just a little band!

I think they would be called the Phantoms or some shit like that

Ashlyn can do backup vocals, and I love my boy Logan but he's giving stage manager vibes a little bit lol

Someone's gotta do it

Taylor and Tyler share their clothes all the time. We already see that they have the same room, which most likely means the same closet, and since the two of them have a relatively similar build (and thus, similar clothing sizes), they just don't really bother separating their clothes (probably why they're matching so often)

Aiden does so much stupid rich kid shit. Not obnoxiously, but just out of a lack of understanding

Probably says some shit to the others like "Wait, your parents didn't get you a car? I know we can't drive yet, but you can still like... take pictures with it."

Bro has no idea he's that rich

The twins absolutely love going over to Ashlyn's place to get self-defense training from Mike and Emma. With their father being gone for a while, and their mom being not all there (for lack of a better description), it's been a long time since they've had a stable parental figure in their lives

Ashlyn's parents are just so nice to them and treat them like their own kids. I just think it's something they needed in their life that they found in an unexpected place :(

Ben loves to paint! He took up art and drawing ever since he lost his voice, and finds painting specifically very calming

He's been working on portraits for each of his friends that are all lying half-finished around his room

Even when he finishes them, though, he probably wouldn't show them for a while because he's quite nervous about it

If he DOES show them, he would definitely give Taylor her's first, because that's who he feels closest to

She cries

I feel like Logan, with working at the flower shop and all that, probably spends a bit of time putting together little bouquets for his friends

Not as like a grand show of affection, but just little gifts to show his appreciation for them being around and caring about him

Probably personalizes them a LOT too. Not only does he coordinate them to match the favorite colors/flowers of the person he's making them for, but he knows all the symbolic meanings behind each flower

Like, for example, I bet he gets yellow roses for Ben to signify friendship, and pink roses for Ashlyn to signify gratitude, that sort of stuff

His love language is gift giving and he's never had friends as close as these guys, leave him alone >:[

Okay that's all I got right now send tweet

[turbulentscrawl]

Heyy! Could you write a most-to-least compatible with a clingy!reader with the survivors maybe?

I love your works and find myself rereading them a lot, they're really stellar!! •v•

Thank you, I'm glad you like my work!! (I added Ithaqua, I couldn't resist)

Emma wants to be with you all hours of the day, craves it. She wants to never be alone again. If you want the same, then it’s nothing short of a match made in heaven, right?

(Bonus) Ithaqua is not #1 only because he doesn’t like if you get desperate about him having to leave for matches. Like, first of all, he doesn’t get a say and there’s nothing he can do. Second of all, he enjoys terrorizing the little survivors. This is his Me-Time. Any other time he adores having you wrapped around his finger—and a little separation pouting is endearing, but any more than that and he gets frustrated.

Eli is incredibly patient. He loves your company and doesn’t mind a shadow most of the time. But as he’s somewhat of a figurehead and confidant in the manor, he will sometimes need private time with other inhabitants. It’s for their privacy, you see, surely you understand. Otherwise, he doesn’t mind you sticking by his side!

Andrew won’t ever say it, but you liking his company so much sooths a lot of his soul-aches and worries. He does like some occasional quiet time, but otherwise he likes that you would choose time with him over time alone.

Antonio loves his darling’s company…but he also knows it’s important to give his friends some quality time too. (And he has a good amount of friends, despite fate’s intentions.) It’s only fair, right? Surely you can wait a bit. He’ll find you again later to share a bottle of wine.

Ganji similarly likes a good amount of time with his partner…but he’s also quite used to being alone and gets irritable when he doesn’t get any decompression time alone. Make sure he gets like five hours to do his own thing, and he’ll be alright the rest of the time.

Melly doesn’t know what to do with you most of the time. It’s not that she dislikes having you around, but rather she feels awkward. Is she…supposed to be doing something with you? Is she expected to entertain you? She’ll deal with this better after some reassurance and comfort, but otherwise struggles with subconscious expectations about her duties as a partner.

Emily can appreciate clinginess from a medical standpoint. You’ve got some abandonment wounds, yes? You’re afraid of being left behind. She will do her best to accommodate you, but unfortunately she has to work the infirmary most nights and you can’t just loiter in there. Respect her work hours and she’ll make it work the rest of the time.

Orpheus is busy with his own things a good chunk of the time, but as long as it’s not anything private he doesn’t mind sharing space with you. You can even sit on his lap while he’s busy writing…just don’t distract him with inane chatter. And when he says he’s busy, respect that.

Norton avoids you for your own good, alright? Don’t make this difficult. He’s not answering any questions about the hows and the whys, and begging will get you nowhere. When he’s able to have you around, rest assured he’ll be around. He wants to be around you. But whenever he leaves you be, it’s because you’re safer that way.

Luchino also has work. Even in the manor, he’s not giving up on his research, his life’s work. It’s better if you let him come to you. Make plans with him; he’ll never be late, never forget you. But he has work and even as his s/o you can’t be allowed to distract him.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Fruity Drinks: L x Reader - Drunk Sex (Minors Don't Interact)

Writer's Notes: Can you tell that I'm running out of ideas? First Shigaraki's stoned smut and now L's drunk smut. I don't encourage substance use!! It's just funny to write about with my favorite characters.

Warnings: VERY ooc L, silly L, fem reader, alcohol use, drunk sex (L and reader are both drunk), the reader is described as a young adult, oral sex (m and f receiving), 69, no penetrative sex, comedy smut sorta, lame and cheesy but kind of fluff ending

How L ended up agreeing to this little arrangement was beyond him. It wasn't that he had never consumed alcohol before. There were a few times when he'd buy a sweet drink from a nice restaurant when he went out. Drinking enough to get drunk, though? L couldn't recall ever doing that. He hated the idea of his judgement and self-control being impaired.

However, he had recently solved a very internationally significant case. You insisted that he and you should celebrate. L didn't really understand the point, he solved cases left and right all the time. He had so many under his belt that it didn't necessarily add to his notoriety anymore. In actuality, though, you simply wanted a night where you and L felt like two typical young adults, wanting to have some fun and loosen up. His solving his latest case was merely an excuse, a poor one in L's opinion.

So you and him sat in one of his more cozy rooms at his house. The room was big and decorated nicely. You questioned if L had chosen the interior design or if it was how the room was before he purchased the house. Or maybe a product of Watari's doing? Themes of white and gold rained prominent throughout the room, which added to the novelty. In front of you and L were many drinks, accompanied by juices and soda that you thought would make the drinks more tolerable. L expressed to you that he could hardly bear the taste of alcohol, so you made sure to accommodate him with some easier options.

"So, it must feel nice to have gotten that case out of the way," you comment.

A part of L was agitated by that question, perceiving it as petty small talk. "Yes, it is. Admittedly, every time I solve a case, I feel disappointed knowing there's no more to uncover from said case; that the war has been won. The satisfaction from my victory is more to compensate for it, though. I'll just have to go searching for another, now."

"Mhm. Did you have any ideas on what drinks you were interested in?" you asked.

"Hard to say. Something sweet, for sure."

"No need to over-explain yourself. I'm sure it'll be perfectly fine."

You chuckle at his very obvious statement, "I could've guessed that. I heard that vodka cranberries were sweet, so I chose stuff for that, if it's alright. I will warn you that I am not someone who mixes drinks often. I kind of don't even know what I am doing, but I tried coming prepared."

So you continued to pour L a drink, mixing vodka and cranberry juice like an amateur bartender. You also made yourself one, hoping that the matching drinks would provide some nice bonding between the two of you. When you were done, you handed your lover his drink and he held the glass with his pointer and thumb, eyeballing it for a moment.

"This would have been nice with some cherries," he comments.

"I'll remember that for next time," you chuckle, taking a sip from your drink.

L began drinking his beverage as well, furrowing his brows at the sting of the alcohol in his throat. You eyeball him, finding his face of discomfort adorable.

"Are you alright?" you ask.

"Yes, love. It's not as bad as I thought. I think the cranberry juice dilutes the taste of the alcohol, but there's still a burning sensation."

"Makes sense."

"Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"To have fun. Loosen up a little."

"Ah, I see. You know that I'm not one to do this sort of thing. Especially not anything that would impair my reasoning abilities."

"I know. Is it okay? We can stop if you'd like."

"I didn't mean that, exactly. Honestly, I'm a little curious to what you are like while intoxicated. Is that strange of me to say?" he questions, giving you an engaged expression.

"That's true, though. Perhaps I should indulge your curiosity. You deserve the privilege for being such an outstanding girlfriend, " he eyes you with a neutral expression.

You blush and laugh a bit, "No. I don't mind that."

Honestly, L being nosy was something that was a surprising turn on often.

"I actually wanted to see how you'd be, honestly. I've never seen you drunk or high or anything like that and I was curious on how your behavior would shift."

"You're the perfect psychologist."

You chuckle abruptly in response.

You laugh at his compliments, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing his admiration for you. L continues to drink his vodka cran, watching you as you drink yours as well.

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

About an hour rolls by and you and L are absolutely hammered. This was a surprise for sure. L had never submitted to this kind of lack of cognitive control, and you had surely never seen this side of him.

The two of you hadn't simply sat there and drank. You had turned on some crime documentary and sat side by side, with your form leaning onto his shoulder. L seemed to really be enjoying his drinks, as he downed one after the other. It was actually very concerning. In truth, he just really liked the taste of them and you two hadn't gotten snacks.

It seemed that L could hold his liquor quite well, and he did when he was simply watching TV. Until now. You sat as the documentary began to give the viewers options as to who they thought the suspect was in the series of murders. L went from dead quiet to deeply and prominently vocal, so much so that it startled you.

"It's him. How..? A seven year old could guess who the murderer is...that one-uh-guy."

Your eyes shot wide open and you tried your hardest to hold in a laugh.

"I'm shutting this off," L announces, clumsily reaching for the remote. He grips it sluggishly and flicks the tv off, slouching back onto the couch. He still sat in his typical position but with his head titled to the side, looking as though he was about to fall over.

You hadn't exactly processed your own intoxication up to this point. It was terribly difficult not to hold back your laughter, and ultimately, you failed. You let out the most uncensored laugh, and L shot his face your way with his finger pressed to his lip.

"What's funny?"

"You. You're cute."

"Oooooh. Yes, you tell me that very often."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh no need..my love. You're, quite "cute" yourself. Did you know that?"

Your flustered face beams a glow, both from the alcohol and your embarrassment. You continue to chuckle for way too many seconds. You sat rigidly in response, thighs pressed together and hands on top of them.

"You..."L begins. You could tell that him never being drunk before contributed to his very apparent intoxication.

"You're so pretty. Your hair,,, and your eyes...you're..how did I manage to end up with such a beautiful lady?? You're so gorgeous, Y/N."

He was plastered. This was hilarious. You thought he was lying but when you looked at him and saw his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, along with his finger teasing his lips, you could tell he was genuine. He was cute, so much so that you couldn't control more flustered laughter escaping your lips.

"Am I funny?" L asked. You couldn't tell if he was insulted or not. You hoped that it wasn't the case, as your laughter was far from out of a malicious nature.

"Yeah. I think you're the funniest person I know. You make me laugh without even meaning to, like all the time."

"Hmm...you like me that much? Do I have really have that affect on you?"

Even though you were very drunk, you could hear the tone of his voice become rather flirtatious, though uncoordinated.

"I've noticed, Y/N. You're rather addicted to my attention. And when you look at me, your face lights up. Your body tenses. Your speech becomes stammered. I'm not referring to the alcohol, nuh uh. You love me."

"Yes, of course, I love you. Why wouldn't I?"

You felt hurt a little, so you held your head down. It made you upset, because yes, he was a rather sneaky and occasionally manipulative partner. He wasn't harsh or anything, or trying to corrupt you, at least you thought. But he would try and pry out information and reactions from you, and get you to say things that would help him understand your tricks and own manipulation tactics.

"Because I am a treacherous, inhumane liar. Who's to say..I'm not lying right now? About how pretty you are, hm?"

L is always a thousand steps ahead of you, easily picking up on your suspicions of the genuineness in his compliments.

"Lovee...don't frown. I didn't meaan that. I actually, have proof. That you're pretty."

"Huh?"

"Yes. Do you want to see the evidence?????"

The drunkenness of yourself and his slurred speech confused you and so you cocked an eyebrow and let out another, "Huh?"

"Come here..Sit right here, next to me."

So you complied. You scooched directly next to L. He reaches to cup your shoulder and presses you close to him. He takes your hand carefully and sets it down over his crotch. Your heart jumps at the touch of his stabbing bulge, straining against his jeans.

"You see, do you see my point?"

You could feel his point, for sure. An unexpected moan escapes your lips, and you can feel yourself become wet instantly from the knowledge of his attraction to you. It didn't help that you loved his cock, either. You feel incredibly embarrassed at the noise you made uncontrollably, and bury your face into your hands.

"No, don't do that, my love." He takes your hand and sets it on his bulge again. "I want you. Would you be willing to indulge me? In your beauty?"

"Mmmmm...yea. Yea, I'd..like that a lot," Your verbal communication has gone out the window and you are unable to manage your composure at all. "Y-yes..yes please..."

"You're so cute," without much warning, L crawls on top of you, fumbling as he does so. He hovers over you and looks you in the eyes for a moment as his hair falls downward. With lustful, lidded eyes he makes his way to kiss the nape of your neck. Even intoxicated, he manages to maintain his romantic and calculated movements, even if they are a little sloppy.

"Mmm!"

"That's it..."

L's desperate need for stimulation encourages him to grind his clothed cock on your thigh for relief. He groans as he kisses your neck, lightly nipping at it. Your gasps cause him to twitch in his pants and he yearns out in painful arousal.

"Mmm, you're soooo pretty. Can I see your breasts? They're so nice. I want to see them."

It was a little humorous when L would talk about your body. He hardly used slang terms, such as tits. His use of clinical language was cute, though awkward. You nod with an eager, "mhm."

It took him a bit to remove your shirt and unhook your bra. Surprising for him, L is usually so good at coordinated actions. Once you were exposed for him, he merely stared at you for many seconds, cock pulsing at the sight of you.

"Oh my goodness," he comments, making you embarrassed.

You can feel your face flush and grow hotter and hotter, as well as your cunt. You couldn't help it when you began squirming your thighs together in arousal, and L let out a sigh at the impact of your movements against his erection. His penis was painfully sensitive, perhaps caused by blood flow from the alcohol.

You gripped his pants, pulling the hem to release his member so you could touch him. You tuck your hand under his waistband and wrap your fingers gently around him. He sighed heavily as you stroked him clumsily. His hips rocked himself into your hand, basking in how good it felt.

"Are you,, do you feel good?" you ask with a slurred tone.

"You have no idea."

He continues nipping at your neck. His hands were relentless, searching for any part of your body to squish or tease.

"Are you turned on?" L asks with a tone of voice that makes him almost sound guilty. He knew full well he was losing control of his gravitation toward you and perhaps wasn't being the most romantic or courteous.

"How about you look for evidence?"

"Hmm.."

L did just that, hand slipped into your pants to feel your pussy. When he discovered you had a hot, wet secretion that drenched you, he slowly plunged two fingers inside out you. You whimper in tension, but once he began rubbing your special spot, your body relaxed to his touch.

His fingers pulled out, making sure to rub your clitoris a bit. The lubricant from your pussy made his motions much more fluid. Fuck, even while he was hammered he was so precise. Sloppier than usual, but still knew exactly what they were doing.

"I...i want to taste you so badly right now," he yearns as he stops fingering you. He begins moving his way down to your crotch but you grip his hair before he can make it.

"I want to..to make you feel good, too. Let me do it to you."

"What? No. I want to bury my face in you, like right now. I don't have time for your mouth."

wow.

"I think people do like, 69? Right?"

"I'm not extremely educated in that department. But...that could be nice.."

You and L exchange a few more lusty kisses until he pushes you to lie on top of him. "You should turn the other way, right?"

Without a response you turned your body so that your ass was facing him. Your cunt hovered above him, to which he glanced at for a few moments. He cupped his hands around your ass and pulled you down so that your heat was pressed against his mouth.

You yelp quietly at the contact. You hadn't ever tried 69 and the position was rather vulnerable. However, the way L was devouring your cunt made it clear he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

He lied down with his legs crunched so that his knees were bent. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few tender strokes and finally stuffing it in your mouth. L moaned against your pussy, enhancing the stimulation. He sucked on your clit vigorously while holding you in place.

L was interesting in that he adored eating you out. You felt bad as if you were a burden for wanting that kind of pleasure. He never objected, though. He had a pretty significant oral fixation, and running his tongue along your cunt was strangely soothing. Plus, the added bonus of the pride he felt when he made you cum was incredibly rewarding.

Blowing him was kind of difficult right now. Your mouth had a hard time coordinating, but you managed to bob your head along him. He must've been enjoying it by the muffles he made against your cunt. L's cock was a bit long, which made taking his whole length tricky. His hips jolted forward on impulse, gagging you a little.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's..okay," you said in between kisses along his cock. L wanted to chuckle at how you were treating his length, but he was far too concentrated on making you cum. You were taking a little longer than usual, but it was alright. L simply thrust his fingers inside of you for a bit and rubbed your G-spot.

He could feel himself building slowly, and he wondered if he could make the two of you orgasm at the same time.

"Mmfm...you taste incredible," he comments. "You're so pretty down here, too."

L's praise always made your heart jolt a little. Sometimes you questioned his sincerity, but he seemed to want you to feel good about yourself for whatever reason. It still made you feel validated nonetheless.

You hummed on his dick in a pleasant response. L kept running his tongue along your clit in consistent motions, and you can start feeling your cunt quiver. L knows, recognizing the way your pussy twitched in his mouth. A smirk grazes his face as your cunt spasms in convulsions and you have to pop your head up for air as you mewl uncontrollably. L allows himself to let go as well as his cum spurts out onto your face while you gave him a mess as well.

You and L both were panting, absolutely overwhelmed by your sensations. An instant exhaustion washed over and you collapsed on top of him.

"Come here," L requests. You pull yourself to face him and L kisses you deeply, not caring about the swapping of genital fluids. "Tonight has been very pleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hehe...I suppose. That felt very, very good."

"I thought so, perhaps we should do that more often."

"What about the drinking, should we do that more often?

"Honestly, I'm not the biggest fan. I feel very out of control of my inhibitions," he admits. Tonight was surely fun, though.

"That makes sense."

"I liked tonight though. And I'm happy I got to spend time with you."

"Me too," you fall on L's chest, and if he wasn't so drunk, he'd probably leave once you fell asleep. But he let himself drift along with you this time, enjoying your warmth. You were already sleeping, but he planted a kiss on your temple and allowed himself comfort in your love for him.