#but it's fun! I do a fair amount of making it up as I go<3 hopefully that's not tooooo obvious

[crownpastelyellow]

So I wrote something for the Solidaritek football AU @bidoofenergy has made because I have been severely unwell about them.

I recommend reading through the posts before reading this but it also works without prior knowledge of anything.

On my knees for you

Pairing: Solidaritek

Tags and Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Oral Sex, Mild Voyerism, Mutual Pining

Length: 6.5k words

Summary: Tango is a retired football (soccer) player who now works as a sports commentator/interviewer and Jimmy is a popular football player. After spending way too long pining after each other they finally get it on.

A/N: Also fair warning, I do not know much about football. I am not a sports person. Touch this with a good amount of suspension of disbelief please. I just got too unwell about them and it needed an outlet <3

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut

Jimmy’s crush on Tango has slowly been escalating and he is very sure that the tension has been building between the two of them. 

It started with conversations before interviews and Jimmy smiling brightly at Tango, whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned into accidental touches, bumping into one another on occasion and, much to the dismay of Jimmy’s teammates, he had not shut up for weeks after Tango once grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way from someone.

At this point, Jimmy can’t deny that he craves more, so he started hanging around after interviews whenever he could, he learned all about Tango’s career, and tried his hardest to memorize anything that could make him stand out to Tango when their work made them cross paths.

But so far, luck was strictly against Jimmy. Whenever he decided to build up the courage to talk to Tango there was always some sort of interruption and he never got more than a few words in, in private.

Today though, might be Jimmy’s lucky day; they were the last ones in the interview room, Jimmy just awkwardly hanging around as Tango picks up some of his notes, not aware of the other one still in the room.

This is Jimmy’s chance. Grian was not here to make fun of him for being a mess around Tango, his coach had already left and nobody else could demand Tango’s attention. No, today he would be cool and charm the commentator with… Something. He can figure it out along the way. Maybe he could just ask Tango out for a drink, or he could- “Oh, hey, Jimmy, you’re also still here.” Tango says, smiling at Jimmy, instantly making him forget anything he had planned on saying.

And from there it only just gets worse. “You did well out there today”, Tango casually praises Jimmy, whose mouth opens and closes again till he eventually lets out a “Thanks”, that is just a bit too strangled, earning a chuckle from the other man who isn’t even looking at Jimmy anymore, more focused on his bag and papers.

As Tango finishes packing up, Jimmy shakes his head to get out of his stupor. If he doesn’t shoot his shot now, he might miss yet another chance. Jimmy makes his way towards the other man, a confident grin on his face. He just needs to be smooth now.

“Hey, Tango,I really enjoyed the interview today, your questions are always the best. I wanted to ask -” Jimmy says, the words coming out just a little bit too quickly, and he walks with just a little bit too much bounce in his step. His foot catches on a cable that wasn’t properly covered up, and he trips, his large frame falling right into Tango’s arms, who, to Jimmy’s absolute delight, manages to catch him with ease.

Jimmy is too awestruck at being so close to Tango, feeling his strong arms around his torso, to consider being embarrassed, or to move away. Instead he just looks up at Tango, unable to tear his gaze away from his lips.

“Careful there, buddy” Tango says with a laugh but Jimmy can see the other man gulp.

Maybe, just maybe, Jimmy hasn’t fucked this whole thing up just yet.

If this doesn’t work out how he imagines that he is going to be in deep shit but Jimmy cannot stop himself at this point.

As he closes his eyes, not wanting to see a potential expression of dread on Tango’s face, he finds his footing again and leans himself up again, just enough so that his lips meet Tango’s.

For a moment, Jimmy is convinced that he has just made a huge mistake, one that could, in the worst case, affect his whole career. A mistake he made because he was thinking with his dick again instead of -

Tango kisses him back.

At first the movement of his lips is barely noticeable to Jimmy who was so focused on how warm Tango is, how his beard tickles against Jimmy’s face and how strong his arms are. 

Jimmy might be a little bit overeager at this point, but he leans further in. Standing up straight now, Tango’s arms still remain wrapped around him, Jimmy is a bit more than a head taller now but still leaning down into the kiss.

His heart is pounding in his chest and Jimmy doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain short-circuiting, but when they find Tango’s body, they instantly begin to wander.

——————————————————————————————————

They know they can’t stay in the small interview room, too many people might walk in, with all the equipment that is still in here.

“Locker room” Jimmy mumbles into a kiss, and a few seconds later they part, and Tango sees the way Jimmy’s eyes are lit up with excitement. 

The locker room isn’t far and it should most definitely be empty by now. They part just long enough, just in case somebody else decided to stick around here, to hurry through the hallway, Jimmy eagerly pulling Tango along who is equally stunned and amused.

Jimmy looks back at Tango with his brown eyes, almost like a puppy begging for a treat and Tango feels his heart melt at the sight.

The second the door closes behind them, Jimmy presses his lips against Tango’s, pushing his back against the door. Tango kisses back instantly, parting his lips with a small smirk, as he lets Jimmy eagerly explore. 

He has been driving Tango insane with his smile, his charisma and just his energy in the plenty of interviews they’ve had at this point. And Tango had wanted this, had kicked himself for craving this for longer than he wants to admit.

But he isn’t pushing Jimmy away now. No one in their right mind would push Jimmy Solidarity away if he kisses them like this.

Tango pushes back into the kiss, pushing himself off and away from the door, not wanting to jinx the most awkward accident imaginable, should somebody come in here after all. Not that any other alternative of someone walking in on them would be much better, but Tango decides not to think about those possibilities right now.

They part but only for a moment before Tango finds himself between the side of a locker and Jimmy, who is currently pressing one leg right between Tangos, his thigh just brushing against him just right and Tango already has to bite back a groan.

It doesn’t help when Jimmy trails open mouthed kisses alongside his jaw.

Tango leans further against the wall for support, letting Jimmy kiss his neck with a hunger that surprises him.

He still does not understand what someone like Jimmy wants from someone like him, but for once he decides not to question his luck.

With eager hands Jimmy starts pulling Tango’s polo shirt up slightly, and as one hand explores Tango’s stomach, traveling all the way up over his chest, his other hand starts to undo Tango’s belt.

For a moment Tango is so taken aback by how skilled and practiced Jimmy’s movements are, but after a second or two he gathers himself, placing a hand on Jim’s wrist, immediately stopping the younger one in his eagerness. 

Of course, Jimmy immediately backpedals, stopping, trying to pull back but Tango’s hands remain on his wrists, not letting him remove them either. “Jim, I… Are you sure you want this?” He asks, clearly nervous. More nervous than Jimmy, who’s hands seem to just want to keep moving.

“What? Of course Tango.” Then after a moment he adds “I wanted this for so long. Gosh, Tango, I have been thinking about this for way too long” Jimmy admits and Tango can see his face flush, see the way it spreads past the collar of his shirt and Tango needs to close his eyes. But that only ends up making it worse, his imagination now running wild. Jimmy has been thinking about him? About this?

He almost wants to ask, wants to know what exactly Jimmy has been fantasizing about.

Instead, Tango decides not to push his luck further today. He just needs to make sure that this is really what Jim wants and not something he’ll end up regretting.

“Are you-” Jimmy immediately interrupts him. 

“Yes, Tango. Please, I just, I just want this. I want you.” Jimmy looks down at Tango with pleading eyes, his tone just edging on being whiny. Tango goes weak in the knees at the sight.

Here is this handsome, fit, young man, practically begging for him. Slowly he lets go of Jimmy’s wrists, letting his hands trail slightly up his arms, giving Jimmy a confirming nod.

Tango is still conflicted, of course. He can never really turn his brain off and now is no different. What does Jimmy want with someone like him? Of course, he shouldn’t complain, should just give in but… Tango isn’t exactly in his 20s anymore. His body, while still fit for his age, shows that. And he is not exactly one for random flings anymore, he doesn’t even really remember how long it has been since the last time he did something this spontaneous. 

Of course he’d want more from this, in the best case, but now is not exactly the time to ask for that. He closes his eyes again, unable to stifle the sigh that escapes his lips as Jimmy finally undoes the zipper of his pants. 

Tango leans back, the metal of the locker cold against the back of his shirt that Jimmy is still pulling up.

With his head leaning back, Tango lets out a shaky breath. He can already feel his dick harden inside his pants even if, despite Jimmy’s eagerness, he hasn’t even touched Tango yet.

Jimmy slowly, very slowly, sinks down to his knees, hands on Tango's waist to steady himself. Even on his knees, brown eyes looking up at him, he seems tall. Tango can’t help but stare at him like this, broad shoulders, strong arms, tousled hair and he knows that he needs to see more.

With slightly shaky hands, he grabs Jimmy’s shirt at his shoulders and gently tugs on it, begging silently to remove it, but he waits, patiently, for Jimmy to react.

Jimmy does not have the same patience apparently, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it into some corner of the room with little regard.

Tango’s eyes travel over his broad, slightly tanned shoulders, the definition of his muscles, and Tango can see them work as Jimmy’s hands trail over his lower body, slowly pulling his pants down till they pool at his ankles.

Despite Jimmy’s clear impatience, he looks up at Tango, while hooking his fingers under the waistband, slightly tugging it down, thumb brushing over the dark blond hairs that trail down below. 

Tango wants this, wants this more than anything, so he pushes his concerns away, his hand finding Jimmy’s hair, tugging on it just a little. The moan Jimmy lets out at this is making Tango throb, and he pulls just a little bit harder, pulls his face a little bit closer to his crotch, which only earns him more of those beautiful noises. It feels addicting, like he needs more, more of Jimmy.

“Please” Tango manages, his raspy voice cracking slightly as his breathing already grows heavier in anticipation. 

And Jimmy doesn’t need to hear that twice, quickly pulling down the boxers. He can see Jimmy eye him, his brown eyes large, lips parted just slightly as his face is so close to Tango’s member.

Tango is slightly nervous, having someone like Jimmy so close to himself. He knows he’s not anything impressive, that he isn’t Jimmy’s age anymore, and that it shows. Despite being fit, his body has gone soft. But with Jimmy looking up at him like that, he might almost feel as beautiful as Jim is.

Jimmy’s warm breath ghosts over him, causing Tango to shudder, knees buckling slightly. Immediately, Jimmy’s hands grab his waist just a little bit firmer. He lets the touch ground him, but it is only a momentary respite before he feels the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth on him. Tango feels like he might pass out from how warm and wet it is and the tightness of his lips wrapped around his tip.

Already Tango has to keep himself from bucking his hips forward, not wanting to overwhelm Jimmy, but the younger man takes notice and  greedily takes more of him, sinking down onto him until Tango can feel himself press against the back of Jimmy’s throat, while letting out a strangled gasp.

Jimmy stays still for a moment and looks up at Tango and he can’t help but throb in his mouth, precum leaking from his tip.

“Jimmy” Tango groans, his voice high pitched and raspy, pulling slightly tighter on the blonde hair, as if it were a lifeline.

The way Jimmy hums around him has Tango already on edge and he knows he won’t last long, not with how Jimmy looks up at him, moves his tongue around his member, and takes him just a little bit deeper, occasionally closing his eyes, as if Tango were the most delicious thing he ever tasted.

When Jimmy pulls back, not fully but just enough to sink himself down on Tango again, his lips still firmly wrapped around his member, Tango can’t hold his noises, panting back anymore.

Tango can’t help himself, as he feels his orgasm build and build, until he feels like he’s about to spill. “Jimmy, I’m gonna -” He tries to pull Jimmy off, not wanting to make him swallow like this, but Jimmy has other plans, his tongue licking along the underside of Tango's shaft as much as he can while trying to take him even deeper, nose brushing against Tango’s abdomen.

Tango didn’t plan on cumming down Jim’s throat. He didn’t plan on any of this in the first place.

It was an idea he entertained before, on some lonely nights, when he couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy’s bright smile, his stupidly beautiful brown eyes, thinking about a sight much like the one right in front of him. But this was better than he could have imagined it.

Tango can’t help but let out a few indecent grunts, mixed with a sigh, as he feels his orgasm wash over him. He can’t handle the sight in front of him, the way Jimmy smiles with his eyes, still looking up at him. Tango wants to look away, he really does, but he can’t tear his gaze from him, not wanting to miss a single second of this. 

Tango is quite certain he hadn’t cum this hard in years, mostly just taking care of his needs as they arose, but this is something he didn’t even consider again, for the longest time.

He sinks against the wall, leans his head against the cool metal of the locker and shuts his eyes, his breath coming out heavy and his hand still buried in Jimmy’s hair, not holding him down. No, Jimmy is staying in place of his own volition as Tango softens in his mouth, still surrounded by the warmth.

Gently, he strokes Jimmy’s hair, still reeling from the intense pleasure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before daring to look at him again.

It takes everything in Tango to remain standing up, especially when Jimmy starts trailing one of his hands along his thigh, grabbing gently at it. Of course Tango is still fit, still muscular, just because he is retired from playing football professionally, doesn’t mean he isn’t still playing and especially his legs show that.

“Jim” Tango groans, his voice cracking again slightly and in other circumstances he might be embarrassed about it but right now he can’t find it in him to care.

Not when Jimmy’s hand travels lower, gently brushing up and down his calf as if he were admiring the muscle in it. That thought, mixed with the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth and his hand trailing up and down his leg, cause Tango to let out another high pitched noise.

Again, Tango repeats “Jim”, as it is getting too much for him. He needs to breathe, he needs to just… Sit down for a second.

With a gentle push he moves Jimmy's head back, guiding him off his cock, which is now glistening with Jimmy’s saliva and the bits of his release that Jimmy hadn’t managed to swallow down immediately and this time Tango needs to avert his gaze.

“This was…” Tango tries but starts again “Jimmy this is… You are…” His thoughts are still all over the place, unable to focus on anything coherent. Or better said, he can’t focus on anything but Jimmy and the way he is looking at him.

“I think I need to sit down” he eventually manages to get out alongside a desperate and shaky laugh.

Before Tango can even try to pull his pants back up, Jimmy is already at it, and their hands brush against each other as Tango grabs onto the fabric of the jeans to pull it up the rest of the way and fasten the belt again. It feels weirdly intimate, despite what they just did and Tango finds himself just wanting to hold onto Jimmy’s hands, to just not let go.

Instead though, he just extends his hand to Jimmy.

Tango can't help but think of the first time they met, the way Jimmy was still so awkward and new to the entire interview scene, the way he slumped onto the floor once they were finished.

Tango doesn’t remember much about that interview, how long ago that even was or why Jimmy even fell off the couch in the first place.

What he does remember though, is the way Jimmy had looked up at him with his large brown eyes as he pulled him to his feet again.

Tango is afraid he is in this position for far too long, so he helps Jimmy up with ease and proceeds to sit down on one of the benches right next to them, leaning back against the locker behind him.

“This was amazing, Jimmy. You are amazing” Tango rasps as he tries to calm his pounding heart, giving Jimmy an encouraging smile.

With his eyes closed once more, Tango doesn’t see Jimmy’s face flush as a bright, goofy smile finds its way onto his lips, or the way Jimmy stares at him absolutely starstruck.

When Tango opens his eyes again he sees Jimmy bend down to pick up his discarded shirt, and he can’t look away from the way his back looks as he moves.

Tango wants nothing more than to return the favor immediately.

“Jimmy” his voice still sounds breathless, “Come here”, he requests gently.

And of course Jimmy is right there, not even bothering to put the shirt on again. Instead he lets Tango pull him onto the bench so he straddles his lap. Tango has to crane his neck up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, his lips, as they meet his.

This time it is Tango’s hands that wander over Jimmy’s ribs, his abs, his arms, his back, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss until Jimmy lets a soft moan slip out and it only encourages Tango more, now needing to know what other noises Jim can make for him. 

As he plays with the waistband of Jimmy’s shorts, just about to pull them down when it is now Jimmy’s turn to stop him. “Tango, Tango, I haven’t showered yet. I don’t wanna do that to you” He laughs and Tango can only stare up at him and nod with a weak “Oh, yeah okay”, earning another laugh. Of course he heard Jimmy laugh before, a million times it feels, with how charismatic he gives himself in the interviews nowadays, but never like this. 

They both look at each other for a moment before Jimmy leans in with a smirk “Care to join me?” and Tango forgets how to breathe for a second before he manages to get out a quiet, barely there “yes” 

Tango knows he’s behaving like a lovestruck teenager right now but when Jimmy looks at him like this, he can’t help himself.

Now both of them move eagerly towards the shower, just out of view from the empty locker room, as neither of them can take their hands off each other.

Jimmy is immediately eager to help Tango out of his red polo shirt, tugging the red fabric over his head, as Tango kicks his shoes off. Quickly his pants follow suit, Jimmy fiddling with his belt again as their lips meet. Tango blindly tries to pull Jimmy’s pants down but brushes accidentally over his already very prominent length. This causes Jimmy to gasp right into Tango’s mouth, all while pressing further against his lips, clearly wanting more.

Tango tries, just for a moment, to tease him more, to get more of these delicious noises out of Jimmy, but both of them are getting too impatient as to draw this out any longer.

Soon enough, they’re both undressed and Jimmy turns around to turn the water on, only for Tango to immediately step up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his torso, as he hugs Jimmy from behind, pressing open mouthed kisses against his shoulder, causing Jimmy to freeze, before he even manages to turn the water on.

Tango smiles against his skin, trying to reach out and around Jimmy, hand placed on his, on the faucet and without much thinking, he turns the water on.

Immediately hot water splashes both of them, right onto Jimmy’s shoulder and square into Tango’s face, causing him to yelp in panic for a moment.

Jimmy quickly moves so the water isn’t pelting Tango right in the face, but Tango just wants to bury his head into Jimmy’s shoulder in embarrassment. Of course, for once he tried to be cool and collected around Jimmy, which was already hard enough considering everything about him, only for something to go wrong.

Tango lets out a laugh, the heat in his face rising but then he sees Jimmy turn towards him and his bright, slightly crooked grin turns into laughter too. But not at Tango, not making fun of him, but with him.

And when Jimmy tries to tilt his head upwards, of course Tango looks at him and gets lost in his eyes.

Jimmy wants to say something but Tango can only focus on his lips and how they were wrapped around him just a few minutes ago, so before any word can come out, Tango kisses Jimmy again, eager to repay the favor as the hot water runs over them.

While Jimmy’s hands roam Tango’s body with a vigorous hunger, Tango carefully brushes his over Jimmy’s body, calloused hands cleaning his skin, while slowly trailing lower and lower.

Their bodies are pressed against one another, and Tango can’t help but press kisses all over Jimmy’s skin. He can see him shiver when his beard scratches against Jimmy’s throat as he trails down from his jaw, causing Tango to smile into each kiss.

Jimmy bucks his hips against Tango, his member already hard and Tango cautiously reaches out, studying Jimmy’s every expression to make sure he doesn’t overstep. But Jimmy has his eyes pressed shut, head tilted backwards just the slightest bit as he bites down on his lips as he is struggling to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you, please” Tango whispers, some of the guilt still gnawing at him. What is he doing here? What is he doing here with Jimmy? 

But seeing his expressions it is clear that Jimmy enjoys this as much as Tango does, if not more. And who is Tango to leave Jimmy unsatisfied after he already got on his knees for him;

Tango is not planning on leaving Jimmy unsatisfied.

“It’s okay. We’re alone here.” He reassures, as if that’s what Jimmy would be worried about.

He picks up his pace and asks again, this time just with another raspy “Please” murmured into Jimmy’s built chest. Tango can’t look at him for too long like this, his mind and body still reeling from his own release just minutes ago.

Jimmy’s lips part and the moans flow freely now, drawing Tango's gaze up. He presses another kiss on the corner of Jimmy’s mouth as his hand keeps moving in a steady rhythm, making sure that he's wrapped around Jimmy just tight enough. 

He can feel Jimmy eagerly fuck forwards into his fist with desperation, the need for more apparent in his movements and the few moans that the sound of running water didn't fully drown out. 

Tango can’t take his eyes off Jimmy, studying his expression and with the tousled wet hair he looks even more beautiful, his cheeks flushed, panting out Tango's name. 

No one should have to be subjected to such a sight. Ever.

Tango can feel his own member slowly starting to harden again but he ignores it, wanting to focus solely on Jimmy now. 

He presses more kisses onto his jaw, and down his throat, burying his face in Jimmy's shoulder for a moment as he stops his hand from moving, just to feel Jimmy desperately bucking his hips to find more friction, his moans getting needier and needier. “Tango. Please. Tango, please I need-”he pants. 

Normal Tango might have tried to make him spell it out but the slight whine in Jimmy's voice has him give in instantly. He cannot say no to him, to the way that Jimmy's moans beg him to keep going, like a puppy asking for treats. 

But instead of moving his hand again, Tango holds the base of Jimmy's shaft in his fist while getting on his knees. 

Jimmy has half a mind to turn the water off, so Tango doesn't get hit in the face again when Jimmy leans back against the cool tiles of the communal showers, groaning at the cold sensation on his back.

Tango kneels before Jimmy who is towering over him entirely now. How can he be so ridiculously tall? How can he still look so ridiculously handsome from down here? Maybe even more handsome, with the slight flush spreading over his torso, his member now standing right in front of Tango's face. 

Almost immediately, a hand finds itself on the back of Tango's head, pushing him forward towards where Jimmy's tip is already eager, leaking slightly.

Trying not to get lost in the sight, Tango focuses on gently licking along its underside, all the way to the tip, pressing an open mouthed kiss on it, that practically invites Jimmy to buck his hips forwards, the younger one clearly not patient enough for this.

“Oh God - sorry, Tango, I'm sorry, I - “ Any apology is instantly getting swallowed by a moan, as Tango starts moving the hand on Jimmy's shaft, jerking him off into his mouth.

Tango knows that there is no way he can do what Jimmy did for him earlier, and he's still thinking about it, and he knows he won’t be able to ever stop thinking about it either for a long while. 

There is an eager stutter to Jimmy's hips and Tango can tell just how much he is trying to hold back, can feel it in the way Jimmy's hands keep wandering away from the back of his neck, to being on Tango's shoulder, to one hanging in tense fists next to Jimmy, the other splayed on the cool tiles behind him. 

Right as Jimmy was about to ask Tango to take him just the slightest bit deeper, hand on his neck again, the door to the locker room opened and both men froze up instantly. Jimmy had half a mind to turn the shower next to them on, hoping the sounds would muffle any other noises. 

“Jimmy, can you hurry up? How long are you still gonna take here? We've been waiting forever“, Joel's voice sounds through the locker room, clearly annoyed. 

Tango wants to pull himself off Jimmy's cock, but the hand at the back of his head applies gentle pressure, keeping him in place. When Tango looks up and their eyes meet he can see Jimmy whisper a silent “Please”, face still flushed and traces of pleasure apparent. 

“Ye-Yeah I'll be out in a bit. Just gotta finish showering. Why, why are you and Grian still waiting?” Jimmy asks, hoping he comes across normal enough. 

He can hear the frustration in Joel's voice “Jim, we've had plans to grab drinks tonight. Can you stop drooling over that guy for one second and actually pay attention.” A locker opens and ruffling noises sound. Tango remains unmoving but prays that Joel won’t come in here, won’t notice what is happening.

If Jimmy's face was flushed before, he was now closer in shade to a tomato. 

“Shit” Jimmy stammers as Tango shifts slightly, but Joel doesn't seem to notice the cause. “Oh gosh that was today? I'm sorry, I can't, something came up and-”

“I swear Jimmy, if you're ditching us again just to learn, what was it? Football stats,” Joel says in a high-pitched voice mocking Jimmy's, “just to get your dick wet, I'm gonna actually punch you.” Joel threatens, still audibly rummaging in his locker. 

It doesn't escape Tango how Jimmy's grasp has become just a little bit firmer on him and how he is twitching in Tango's mouth. 

Jimmy is actively avoiding Tango's gaze, looking anywhere but at the man on his knees for him and Tango isn't quite sure if it is out of embarrassment or something else but he gets his answer when precum coats his tongue, Jimmy's breath hitching as he tries to remain steady enough to reply. 

“No, no, Joel, I just… I just forgot about an appointment I had. Norman… I have to bring him to the vet, for a checkup.” Jimmy stammers his weak lie, the best he could come up with given his situation. It doesn't help that Tango slowly starts moving his hand again, a careful eye on Jimmy's expression, nervously trying not to misinterpret the situation but it seems like he was spot on. Jimmy's hips start moving again.

“A checkup at the vets? At 8pm on a Friday? Jim, you absolute idiot. But yeah, go home and jerk off to your Tango or something. But you're paying for the first round next week.” Joel gives him a dry laugh, locker door slamming shut and after a few moments his steps leave the room entirely, the heavy door falling shut.

Jimmy is now painfully hard and leaking, not able to hide from Tango, just how much this interaction had worked him up. Finally he lets Tango pull himself off his leaking tip, catching his breath, but his hand still keeps moving as he looks up at Jimmy.

“So… Football stats to get your dick wet, huh?” Tango asks with a smirk. 

Tango already had a hunch, that Jimmy didn’t actually know much about the statistical side of his job, despite being an excellent player, at least at the beginning of his career. It comes naturally to some and less to others and there's no shame in it. But there is shame in how endearing it had been to Tango, to see the effort Jimmy put into learning about these things.

And to know now, that he did it to impress Tango was a heady feeling he dared not to think about too much, at least not right now.

What had he done to have this puppy of a man be infatuated with him? It is both pure bliss and absolute torture simultaneously. 

Tango tries to just turn his head off for once and it comes easier when Jimmy whines out his name again in a desperate plea. 

Of course Tango's hand picks up speed and of course Tango's lips wrap around the leaking member again.

He wants nothing more than to make Jimmy the happiest he can be in this moment and it doesn't take long for Tango to succeed. 

In a frantic, desperate motion, Jimmy pulls Tango off of himself, not having even a second to warn him, before spurts of release get shot across Tango's face, some landing in his beard and a lot of it on his glasses.

Jimmy looks like he's about to apologize as he's but Tango just looks up at him and laughs “Hey, at least we're already in the shower” studying Jimmy from this view one last time before taking his glasses off and standing up, feeling Jimmy's gaze on him the entire time. 

This seems to ease Jimmy’s own worries slightly, his face more flushed than tomato colored now and his parted lips slowly turning into a goofy smile. And before Tango can wipe any of the cum off his face Jimmy energetically pulls him in for a kiss, even more enthusiastic than before.

Tango can’t help but be endeared by him, Jimmy’s energy being infectious enough to make him forget how his knees ache from being on the tiled floor for too long.

“Lets get cleaned up, alright?” Tango laughs as they both bask in each other's presence under the hot water.

——————————————————————————————————

Jimmy throws Tango one of his spare towels once they are done and asks, as casually as he can, “Can we go out? For drinks? Tonight?” It comes off as a little bit desperate so he adds, “If you don’t have anything planned.” That is not making it any better.

Tango finishes drying off, tossing the towel back to Jimmy who catches it with ease, shooting Jimmy a smile as he puts his pants back on. “Thought you had a vet appointment? Norman was your cat right?” And Jimmy wants to sink to his knees again almost instantly. He remembers the name of his cat? But before Jimmy can point that out or even just nervously laugh at Tango’s joke, the man continues. “Or are you just ditching your teammates to go spend time with some old guy, trying to impress him by talking about football stats, huh?”

Jimmy wants to sink into the floor and never emerge again. He might need to strangle Joel tomorrow, couldn’t his timing have been any worse?

No, what actually is worse is how much Jimmy enjoyed it. The mixture between the panic of getting caught, the embarrassment of getting called out like this right in front of Tango and just the feeling of Tango himself. 

Jimmy shakes his head, focusing on drying off again. He hasn’t even put his pants back on again, he can’t already beg Tango for more.

He realizes he hasn’t replied and has now just been staring at Tango in silence for a few moments, watching him fasten his belt again and reaching for his shirt. 

Jimmy only manages an awkward stammer in reply.

He is sure that he’s messed this up again, his one chance, when Tango chuckles, looking at Jimmy, walking closer to him, while only being shirtless.

“We can go out, sure.” Tango grins, placing a hand on Jimmy’s arm. “Come on then, get dressed” He teases at Jimmy’s state of undress, but Jimmy interrupts Tango before he can put his own shirt on, with another kiss. 

——————————————————————————————————

Grian and Joel are sitting around a table with a few other teammates they would consider friends, each slowly sipping at their drinks, eyes fixed on the bar nearby where they see Jimmy, who is clearly not taking his cat for a routine checkup on a Friday night, and Tango who has his back to them.

Both seem engrossed in their conversation but the two can only overhear occasional tidbits from Jimmy, his volume control even more questionable than usual when he is around Tango.

“I genuinely can’t believe this. How did Timmy manage that?” Grian asks, pinching the skin between his eyebrows as he sighs.

“No idea. Maybe he finally stopped bringing up -” Joel wants to reply but Jimmy’s laughter echoes way too loud through the bar, but neither of the men seem to be aware of it.

Joel groans instead of finishing his sentence, emptying his drink.

——————————————————————————————————

The next day before practice, Jimmy can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday, right here where he is sitting in the locker room, the way he was on his knees in front of Tango, how he sat on his lap, how his lips felt on his. Oh, he would go on his knees again and again for Tango in a heartbeat.

Jimmy was so lost in his daydreams that he did not notice Joel entering, immediately kicking at Jimmy’s shin, ripping him out of his thoughts about the wonderful sounds Tango made for him yesterday.

“How was Norman?” Joel asks in a mocking tone.

“Norman?” Jimmy asks back, confused. His mind is filled with many things but none of them help him figure out why Joel is talking about his cat.

Grian joins the team in the locker room, immediately heading past Jimmy to his own locker, not sparing him a single glance. “Tim, next time you’re getting your dick wet, please just come up with a better excuse”

Jimmy stammers, right. “I didn’t mean to ditch you guys, sorry” Jimmy says and he means it. 

“Whatever, next one’s on you” Joel shrugs before sitting down in front of his own locker, kicking his shoes off.

“How do you guys even know about this?” Jimmy asks, fearing for the worst. They couldn’t have actually heard them in here yesterday, right? Joel would have said something right then and there and Jimmy would never live that down.

Grian has the most exasperated look on his face, tired of dealing with this “Jimmy. You guys quite literally went to the bar that we were supposed to go to yesterday, after ditching us.”

A weak ”Oh.” is all Jimmy can manage.

“Oh Tango, please tell me more. Oh Tango, can you tell me about the Olympics again” Joel mocks Jimmy in a high pitched voice, causing Grian to groan.

“Joel, please don’t encourage him. Seeing him drool like that yesterday was already bad enough” which is met with laughter. 

Jimmy leans his head back in embarrassment “You guys… saw all of that?”

“Jimmy, it was really hard to miss.” Grian sighs, unpacking his bag. “The whole place heard your conversation”

“It was actually quite disgusting to watch.”, Joel chimes in with another laugh.

“Guys please, I…” Jimmy can’t really defend himself there, his face heating in embarrassment but he can’t help but laugh. Because he must have looked absolutely ridiculous yesterday, but how could he not?

He checks his phone quickly before putting it into his locker, needing to escape his friends teasing. But he stops, seeing he’s got a message from Tango.

It is simple, it just says “alright. see you later then!”, but Jimmy must have the biggest grin on his face, judging by Grian groaning in exasperation.

[nyehilismwriting]

not sure if you’ve been asked this beforeeee but how do you implement all the technical jargon? the descriptions of the consoles, the coolant chambers, the effects of a fictional plasma gun on flesh and armor, and the like? do you do a lot of research? and how do you make it sci-fi? (after my 4936^nth play through im now focused on every little word you put to paper 😌)

ummm I don't do a Lot of research - I read a lot of scifi so a lot of the "jargon" is drawn from there... if there's specific parts I want to know about, I'll look up the ways various engines work (car/shuttle/submarine usually) and see if I can find a named part that suits what I need, but I won't spend hours on it. usually if I can't find something within about 15 minutes I'll just make some shit up: there's basic principles, like....engines produce heat, require a power source, require backup power sources, and that power needs distribution and containment - that gives you coolant systems, fusion chambers, generators, and from there if i need to get more specific I'll look up how real engines manage these things.

i try not to use too much technical jargon, because i know that can put people off, and I think...in a lot of cases, the more specific you get, the more glaring the errors can be. I'm not an engineer and I've definitely got some stuff wrong (lmao) but the more attention I draw to it the more obvious it'll be, so...vagueness my good friend vagueness. there's definitely some things I've thought about a loooot more - I have a lot of thoughts about the way IVI works, for example, bc I have. neuroscience degrees and it's something I like thinking about, whereas the space travel and engineering stuff is less interesting to me so I get less specific. at some point I fully intend to have a big exposition dump about the biology of IVI and I expect everyone to sit down and pay attention<3

as for how I make it scifi, I think....again, as someone who reads and watches a lot of scifi I have quite a strong sense of the vibe I'm going for, and the ways it plays into the setting I've built: for example, I've obviously discussed power armour and body armour as things that scytha operatives are equipped with, which then means there have to be weapons designed to bypass those things, and so thinking about that kind of rock-paper-scissors system of different technologies is a lot of fun. a lot of my inspiration for that comes from video games in particular, which tend to be very combat-focused and so do emphasise that sort of thing.

so, yeah, there's a lot of....piecing together bits and pieces, and looking back at things I've already written in and asking how I can work around or with that, and checking for consistency; i draw inspiration from all kinds of places, but particularly my books and also my job:-)

[whatifitis]

♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡

Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.

Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 964

CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention

It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice. 

You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played. 

The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face. 

After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort. 

The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout. 

Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity. 

When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics. 

Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head. 

“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously. 

Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways. 

“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you. 

“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.

“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”

Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together. 

With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face. 

Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes. 

“You are my one and only love.”

Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at. 

You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself. 

“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”

[bedoballoons]

Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts

Your blog looks beautiful btw

Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}

CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.

You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.

"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"

Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"

"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"

"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"

"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[konpeitonom]

Can you please do NSFW alphabet but with curly! <3

captain grant curly nsfw alphabet.

nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; it’s always really fun writing for curly! i had a lot of fun writing this one in specific.. sorry for any mistakes. i don’t proofread but it is late where i am so obvious typos might have slipped through. doing jimmy next most likely as the people in my inbox call for it. hope you guys like this one, thank you for all the love!!

nsfw under the cut! minors do not read

a — aftercare, (what they’re like after sex)

— the best at aftercare! it is his biggest priority. he never wants you to feel used, if you ever did i think he’d feel absolutely horrible..

— he’d clean you up, bathe you if you wanted. water, of course- he’d make or order you something if you were hungry. whatever to make you happy!

b — body part (their favorite body part, and their partners)

— i said this in my general headcanons but tummy’s.. he loves placing his hands on your waist, caressing your ‘cute tummy’ he’d say.

— it’s not even a ‘this tummy might hold my kids’ one day thing. he genuinely thinks it’s the cutest and sexiest thing ever.

— besides that, i guess he’d like tits, thighs, the general. he likes everything! doesn’t really have a favorite.

— for his own? he’d have to say his back, or his arms. he works out! it’s canon (literally) so i think he’d be very proud of his body..

c — cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— who would’ve guessed.. on your stomach. lol. he’d like cumming inside as well, but only if it was safe too/you two were trying for a kid. but on your stomach he just.. he likes that sight, he really does. besides your cute facial expressions that might be his most favorite part!

d — dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

— i don’t consider this dirty, but he does. he’s jerked off to you many times before you got together. not a big deal, but to him it is.

— he probably feels an immense amount of guilt. like, ‘she’s not just a girl for me to ogle at.. she’s my friend that i’m so happened to be in love with..’

e — experience (how experienced are they?)

— all his relationships were the full on commitment kind. he is not really a ‘one night’ kind of guy. maybe a few times when he’s feeling it. so he’s had his fair share of experience.

f — favorite position (self explanatory)

— your legs on his shoulders! god, he thinks it’s so sexy. and it feels good too. and he can see your entire face. checks off all his boxes.

— but if you ask he’d say, “whatever your favorite is!” and would wanna do it always knowing it’s your favorite. he is a d1 people pleaser.

g — goofy (are they more serious in the moment?)

— i’d depend.. if it was night time and that felt like the mood, he’d be serious about it. like after a fancy dinner night out, all he wants to do is fuck you slow and nice. but if it was the morning, or a long day at work, he doesn’t mind if it’s less serious, per say.

h — hair (how well groomed are they?)

— he’s pretty well groomed, i’d say. i like to think he’s very cleanly.. it’s obvious he cares about his health and looks and the way it is down there counts too!

i — intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic wise?)

— ahh.. i’d really depend on you. his go-to is soft and romantic. he just loves you so, so much. if sex is the way you want to be shown love then he’ll do it.

— he’s very stereotypical. he wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, play with your hair, caress your body in all the right places as he sets a gentle pace. but if you prefer things a bit rougher, he doesn’t mind. just reassure him that it’s okay and that it’s what you want.

j — jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— as a teenager, i think he probably felt bad for jerking off. now as an adult he can understand that it’s a very normal human thing. he doesn’t do it often, especially when he’s in a relationship, but he’s not opposed to doing so.

— maybe once a week if you’re there (like swansea, he would rather just fuck), up to 3-4 if he’s working in space and all alone and such..

k — kink (one of their kinks)

— praise him. god please. he needs it.

— just one, “that feels really good..” or, “you’re doing so well..” gets him going!! he might stop and try to process it, his dick buried inside you as he lets out a long breath- he’s making you feel good? he’s doing that?

l — location (favorite places to do it)

— “anywhere you wanna” god he’s so annoying. unbearable.

— most likely the bedroom. he’s basic. but he’s open to anything semi-public. he just feels like he can love you best in the most intimate setting, your bedroom!

m — motivation (what turns them on)

— i think he gets turned on at the simplest of things to the point it’s funny.. like when you’re looking in the mirror and admiring yourself, you just look so cute and happy..

— and suddenly your skirt looks just a bit too short for comfort, and the bra you’re wearing looks extra nice on you. he’d feel bad, yes. how can he be so perverted when you’re just there- looking cute?

— but he can’t help it. he just wants you in every way he can have you.

— besides that, you straight up saying you want it is enough for him!

n — no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— he’s a people pleaser.. if you’re into it, he’ll try it at least once. but for himself? hm. anything that feels too degrading is a no for him either. like free use? he’s not into that. he wants you to feel loved, not that you have to do stuff to get him to love you..

o — oral (preference in giving, receiving)

— giving.. he loves giving. i think it’s obvious. he loves when you place your hands on his hair, your legs squeezing him tight.

— mumble words of encouragement and praise and he’ll feel as if he’s on cloud 9!!

— he likes receiving too. but only if you like it. how many times can he emphasize that..? he does think you’re very pretty in your knees though.

p — pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

— soft and sensual is his favorite like i’ve said. he wants to feel every thrust, appreciate the way your body reacts to every small thing he does. he just loves to close his eyes and fawn over that feeling, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.

q — quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

— i think quite often they happen.. like he loves to make love, he really does. but with his and your busy work life, sometimes it’s needed.. if you’re pent up and stressed and need his dick right then and there, and quick? he’s willing!

r — risk (are they willing to experiment? do they take risks?)

— i think he is for your sake, but he’s confident in what he likes and stuff so he wouldn’t wanna try out anything new to his own accord. if he does then he’ll talk that out with you. your comfort comes first.

s — stamina

— if sex ends up being rough, maybe only one. it’s a bit of a mental load on him to be mean to you like that. but usually he’s good with two or three. anything past that seems pushing it.

t — toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on themselves or their partner?)

— he owns a few. only for his partner, not for himself. if you like toys then he’ll definitely utilize them but if not then he won’t force them upon you or anything.

— a bit of a throw away thought but remote controlled vibrators, the idea of it? kind of turns him on.

u — unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

— he likes to tease! just a smidge bit. not too much or else he’ll feel bad but it keeps the mood light and fun. i’ve mentioned somewhere he liked playful banter, so that kinda goes along with him teasing you and such..

v — volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make?)

— he’s loud! he’s very vocal. when he’s feeling good he wants you to know that. grunts, groans, whines, whimpers.. but sometimes he holds it in and shuts up so he can focus on yours. he likes yours way more.

w — wild card (a random headcanon)

— perhaps.. once in a blue moon, he really needs it. rough and fast, with your hands scratching his back. Your legs are too sore to move, so they just lay there shaken up. it’s different when he’s doing it to please you in comparison to please himself.. you know? like it’s just so much better when he’s just a bit selfish.

x — x-ray (what’s going on underneath?)

— I'm biased. this is my blog, this is my favorite character, these are my headcanons. he has a pretty dick. it’s a nice color, nice to look at. it’s just pretty. 7 inches in length, regular thickness. ok bye

y — yearning (how high is their sex drive?

— kind of average or if not, slightly below average. he loves to show his love in many, many ways. sex is just one of those many things. he can live without it either. if you decided to go celibate, it wouldn’t change his life or anything. yeah, he’d miss it, but you come first.

z — zzz.. (how quickly they fall asleep)

— he has a lot of energy so i don’t think he falls asleep quick. even so, he’d make sure you fell asleep first- that you’re all taken care of before he can rest.

— also, for selfish reasons, he wants to stare at you and your pretty face, play with your soft hair as you sleep. if he could pause time, i’d be then. you’re just so cute.

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you:

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, game plan:

➴ chapter warnings: none <3

➴ word count: 1.5k

💌 from me to you: and here’s the first chapter of fake it ‘till you make it! posting this sooner than expected in honor of last night’s game. can you guys believe we have nico hischier as our captain? how lucky are we? anyways! i hope you all like this! (the posting schedule will be just like TYPA, every other day!) ♡

𖧷

WHEN YOU tell people that being friends with a hot, young NHL player isn’t at all that great, all they do is look at you like you’re batshit crazy, and give you one hundred and fifty four arguments trying to make you, someone who’s been friends with a guy who’s been a NHL star player for the past few years, see how wrong you are.

You love Nico Hischier. You really do. You met him when you were just eighteen, being friends with his sister, Nina, and immediately locking in with Nico. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving man you have ever met in your life, and now that you’re twenty-three, almost twenty-four, you can see how rare men like Nico are.

But now that he’s a famous player, captain of an entire team and known for being one of the hottest men in the NHL, you sure feel like you’re paying a high price for being in his life.

Not in a bad way, though. It just sucks to see the amount of women throwing themselves at his feet, and what sucks even more, is knowing that he won’t even blink an eye at them because he’s head over heels for Nora Ellis, a crazy girl he met two years ago at a party.

Nora is beautiful, you’ll give him that. And usually, you wouldn’t be upset with him having a crush. In fact, you and Nina are always encouraging him to engage in new relationships and meet new people, so that he isn’t only worried about his job.

Nora. She’s the most beautiful black woman you have ever seen. She’s intelligent, she’s funny and she knows things about Hockey like no one else— being the daughter of one of the most talented coaches in the NHL does that to you, you guess.

The only problem with Nora Ellis is the fact that she only cares for men who are in a relationship.

Married or dating, she doesn’t care. Her only goal is to make them give up on their partner to be with her, and once she gets tired of them, she finds another mission to busy herself with.

Nico doesn’t seem to notice that. To be fair, no one really does. She can be very subtle and discreet, and the only reason why you caught up on that in the first place is because every party you go to, you try to blend yourself with the walls, so you don’t get too much attention on yourself.

Nico always tells you to stay by his side and mingle with his friends, but by the end of the night, you’re always sitting near the bathroom door, with a drink in your hands, watching the party unfold with attentive eyes.

And turns out that a lot can happen in the bathroom of a party full of NHL players and Nora Ellis.

So you know she’s not good for him. You’ve tried to talk him out of it more times than you can actually recall, but it’s a dead end. Nico’s in love with her, and has been for two years now. He won’t give up on her unless something really drastic happens, but since Nora is really good at what she does— destroying relationships for fun—, nothing will ever rise to the surface.

“She’s so… pretty,” Nico sighs, sitting on the couch beside you, making you sigh and put your book down, not forgetting to mark the page you were in. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

You smile, touching his cheek, watching with awe as his dimples appear. “It’s fine, Dimples.”

He rolls his eyes as he always does when you call him that, and continues.

“You’re the only one who still listens to me ramble about Nora,” he pouts. “Nina said that if I talk about her one more time, she’ll fly to Newark and personally destroy my phone so I can’t call her anymore.”

You laugh loudly, perfectly picturing Nina saying that.

“And Luca?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“Luca just says I need to move on.”

“Well, he’s always been more patient than Nina, that’s for sure,” you nod, placing your book on Nico’s coffee table and bringing your knees close to your chest, resting your head on them. “But… he’s not wrong, y’know?”

Nico gives you the puppy eyes, as he always does whenever someone mentions that he should get over Nora, and you sigh again.

Seeing him like this sucked in every way. And you’ve tried everything— get him on dating apps, blind dates, normal dates, pointing at a pretty girl at a party, literally everything.

And still, he’s not budging.

“I wish she would just look at me. I’m handsome, right?” He looks at you, brown eyes filled with despair.

You spend some seconds analyzing him, as you often liked to do. His brown, hazelnut eyes that shined bright everyday, his hair that’s now a little bit longer than usual, his legs and arms which are absolutely huge— when did he get that big anyway?— and his perfect, charming smile and dimples.

“Emma?”

“O-oh, yeah, you’re… fine, I guess,” you shrug, trying to hide the fact that you were checking him out. Weird. “It’s not about you, Nico, I’ve said that before.”

“Okay, but why won’t she pay attention to me, then?”

Because you don’t have a girlfriend, is what you want to say.

Wait.

“Oh my God!” you jump in your seat, scaring Nico who lets out a loud scream and jumps out of the couch with you.

“What the— Emma.” He puts his hands on his hips, trying to look scary, but you brush him off.

“I know how to make her fall in love with you,” you smile, walking around in circles, trying to organize your thoughts inside your head. Nico. Nora. She thinks she’s in love. Nico’s happy. They get together. She’ll leave him after three months or so. Nico’s sad. But! Nico’s moved on. “God, how did I not think of that before?”

“What are you talking about—”

“We have to date.”

Nico stares at you like you’re crazy, his eyes big and confused. He opens his mouth a few times, probably trying to think of something to say, before closing it and inhaling the air.

You wait for him to say something, but when it’s obvious that he won’t, you continue:

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know what you must be thinking, but hear me out,” you step closer, looking up at him. “Girls sometimes don’t pay attention to guys because… well, because they can’t really see them. Like, for example: there’s this one guy in my office which I don’t care about, he’s just my coworker and nothing else.”

“What does this have to do with—” you put your index finger over his lips, shushing him.

“Wait,” you say. “So, he’s there and he isn’t anything. Until, one night, I had a dream that he’s dating me. And suddenly, I wake up and go to work, and I can’t see him the same way I did before. I start noticing how nice his hair is or how tall he is. Do you understand it now?”

Nico smiles, scratching his forehead with his finger.

“No, Emma. That doesn’t even make sense.”

You snort. “Because you’re a man. But trust me on this one, Nico. The second Nora sees you with someone else, she will notice you.”

Mostly because she’s a whore, but we’ll keep that to ourselves for a while.

“Do you have… like… a crush on me or something?” His face is now red and he gets closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder while he looks like he’s trying to comfort you. “Is that why you want to do this?”

“What— No, what the hell!” you can feel your face getting warm and you step away from him. “No, I don’t have a c-crush on you. I just can’t stand you talking about her anymore. I’m your friend, so I will help you.”

Nico sighs, relieved it seems, still looking unsure.

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to,” you say, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “I know it sounds crazy and I know you probably think I’m trying to get something here but in reality—”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your surprise, almost shouting with how loud you spoke.

He smiles, sitting back on the couch, spreading his thighs and stretching his arms. “I mean, you’re never wrong about these love related things. You did get my sister an amazing boyfriend and you did manage to convince my brother to ask that girl out, and now they’re married. So it’s probably my turn to accept your love advice and shit, right?”

You’re starting to feel bad about this whole thing, because you know Nora will probably break his heart in thousands of little pieces, but what else can you do?

It’s the perfect plan, you think to yourself. It’s flawless, and it will work.

“I try my best,” you give him a half-smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “But you have to promise me something.”

Nico nods. “Anything.”

“If this doesn’t work out, then you'll move on.”

“Emma—”

“It’s not healthy for you to be thristing over someone for this much time,” you sit on the couch next to him and place your hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “We will fight, and we will fight hard, but if there’s no results in three months, and I’m being generous, we’ll move on. Okay?”

Nico stared at his hands, biting his lips before looking at you again.

“Okay.”

𖧷

<next chapter>

[mentally-gone002]

kisses at the arcade

summary: reader and steve drive dustin to the arcade… and have some of their own fun.

a part 2 to the previous title-less fic that yall loved sm with henderson!reader x steve harrington 

you can find part 1 here, and part 3 here

a/n: so i sent the first part of this to my bestie and she was like “so when do i get a part 2??” and now here we are with a part 2! rlly it is all thanks to her, because not only did she help me make up my mind to make a part 2, but she also helped me completely construct every bit of this!!!! (did i mention she’s never watched ST???) she’s literally amazing so big thank you to my queeeeen!!!!

———————————————————————

dustin charged into the living room slightly out of breath, his ‘thinking cap’ baseball hat smushed over his unruly hair. “mom! can steve drive me to the arcade? mike, will, max and lucas are going.” he panted. 

his sister looked at him from her book while she sat on the couch at the mention of steve. she swallowed back a smile that he’d go out of his way to take her brother to the arcade. 

their mom cleared her throat before she answered. “you can go if your sister does, just to keep and eye on you.” 

dustin looked at his sister with pleading eyes. “please go, we’re gonna try and beat max’s records.” he said. 

“while max is there?” she asked, closing the book and placing it onto the coffee table gently. dustin nodded. “sure, i don’t wanna miss the look on your guys’ faces when she stays with her top score.” her words made dustin scoff while she walked off to her bedroom to grab a sweater and her bag. 

———————————————————————

when steve’s red bmw made its appearance onto their driveway, dustin raced out the front door and his sister followed behind him slowly. she shivered from the early december air that nipped at her cheeks and nose, so she picked up her pace. 

“your sisters got the front tonight, henderson!” she heard steve tell dustin, to which he replied with a groan that sounded like betrayal. she looked at dustin with a smile and stuck out her tongue. 

“real mature.” dustin rolled his eyes while he climbed into the backseat. 

she slipped into the passenger seat and flashed a bright smile at steve before he put the car into gear and began the drive to the arcade across town. 

it was a short drive but after some light conversation and a fair amount of bickering between dustin and steve it felt a bit longer. by the time steve pulled into the parking lot dustin was out of the car and racing towards the arcade. 

“wait until the car is in park next time!” his sister called from out the window before rolling it back up. she turned her face towards steve. “hi.” she smiled. 

“hey.” he smiled back at her, the corners of his eyes creasing in a way that made her heart beat faster. she didn’t know why. 

he reached a hand across the gap between them to connect his palm with the side of her face. she leans into the touch, shifting in her seat to get closer, reaching her own hand to connect with the side of his neck. 

he tried to contain his smile but what was the use if she’s there to create it? steve’s hand slowly drifts down her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, which she’d blame on the time of year if he asked, until his palm rested on her knee. the honey color in his irises were almost chased away from how his pupils were blown out. 

his gaze shifted between both of her eyes as he whispered, “you look beautiful tonight, you know that, right?”

she felt her face heat up at the compliment and her eyes shifted away from his for a brief second. “thank you.” her voice was a volume just above a whisper.

steve lifts his hand from her knee to hook his fingers beneath her chin, directing her face towards his. his tongue darts between his barely parted lips prior to leaning over the center console, gently connecting his lips with hers. the taste of her strawberry lipgloss made him smile. 

the sound of her heartbeat was in her ears, making it hard to think of anything other than him and the way his soft lips slowly danced against hers rhythmically. her fingers tangled in his soft chestnut hair while she pulled away to breathe, eyes still closed and her forehead to his. “we should go inside. the kids are probably wondering where we are.” she didn’t want to say this but she knew that keeping an eye on the kids was the best idea, considering that they’d still be paranoid due to the events from a month ago.

steve knew she was right but he was feeling greedy, only wanting her all to himself right now. “they’ll be okay without us, won’t they?” he wondered quietly as he reached for her hip, smoothing his thumb over the fabric of her clothes covering it. steve pulled her closer to him, being mindful of the console separating them. 

with labored breaths and a butterfly filled stomach she nodded, giving in to him. “what if they come out and see us?” she asked with a quick pull away from their proximity. her eyebrows were pinched together, creating a tiny wrinkle between them that steve wanted to smooth away with his thumb.

steve brings her back in and tilted his head to the side. “they won’t, baby, i promise.” he gave her a reassuring grin, making sure she mirrored it before once again connecting their lips together. 

———————————————————————

dustin angrily shifted the joystick and pressed the buttons of the arcade machine, trying to make more progress and wrack up the most points so that he’d finally beat max’s score on dig-dug. as he played, lucas, mike, will and max huddled around his back to watch the screen with nervous anticipation. 

“look out!” lucas exclaimed, pointing at an enemy just before it killed dustin’s character. 

the game made the animated sound signifying that he lost and dustin kicked the machine. “son of a bitch.” he sighed, shoving a hand into his coat pocket to try and pull more coins for another round; his pocket was empty. “anyone have any quarters i can barrow?” he asked the group. they all shook their heads, wanting to keep theirs for themselves. 

“ask your sister for some, i’m sure she’d have some.” will suggested with a smile. everyone else nodded in agreement, finding the idea a good one. 

dustin turned around, staring at the bench beside the front doors where both his sister and steve should have been. “hey, has anyone seen my sister or steve?” he looked back at the group. everyone turned their heads towards the bench at once. “they aren’t there, dumbasses, that’s why i’m asking.” he clarified. 

mike shrugged. “maybe they’re still outside?” he sounded bored at the fact they were trying to solve the mystery of dustin’s missing sister and steve harrington. 

dustin nodded. “probably.” he said before running towards the doors, dodging away from other kids. everyone followed on his heels all the way outside into the cold until they all stopped outside the red bmw which was still running. 

dustin reached for the passenger door handle without even looking inside, his only concern at that moment was quarters. “hey, do you have any- what the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed, stepping back with the door still ajar.

his sister and steve pulled away from each other’s lips in surprise, both staring at dustin’s wide eyes and disgusted expression first before noticing all his friends staring as well. steve shot dustin a nervous smile while she wiped the mixture of their saliva and her lipgloss away from her mouth.

“giving mouth to mouth.” max mumbled and caused the group snicker with laughter. 

dustin harshly nudged lucas, the closest to him, as a sign for him to shut up; lucas did after a small protest of how the shove hurt. “do you have any quarters? i spent mine already.” dustin reached for and snatched away his sisters bag off the floor beside her feet.

she stole it back from him. “hey! don’t dig through my things.” she said firmly, going for her wallet. “how many do you need?” her question made the group smile. 

dustin shrugged. “twenty for what i just witnessed.” he muttered. she shot him a glare. “i mean- just three dollars worth.” he reiterated with an innocent smile. 

she dug around for quarters and handed them all to dustin when she found the amount he wanted. the group took that as a sign to go back inside since they began to grumble about the cold. dustin tried to follow but his sister called him back.

“please don’t tell mom, okay?” she asked with pleading eyes. dustin nodded which made her sigh in relief. 

“you owe me though. and you,” he pointed at steve. “you owe me as well.” steve nodded in understanding which made dustin walk back towards the arcade, slamming the car door before he left. 

she looked back at him, bottom lip held between her teeth anxiously. steve frowned at her expression and leaned towards her. “hey, it’s okay.” his hand smoothed over her hair slowly, the curls bouncing back once his hand brushed them over. “maybe it is time to y’know… tell people?” he shrugged. his hand settled lightly on her shoulder. 

her teeth let go of her lip so she could speak. “yeah… i just wish he didn’t have to find out like that.” her concern had steve nodding with adamant agreement. she looked away from him in thought. 

he dropped his head to the side as his hand guided her face and eyes back to his. “it’s all gonna work out for us, okay? you don’t have to worry.” the kindness in his eyes made her feel more sure about the situation so she nodded in advance to leaning forward to press her lips against his again. she just wanted to be extra sure, and he kissed back with a gentle assurance.

it was going to work out for them. 

————————————————————————

to anyone wondering… yes there will be a part 3 and i’m working on it rtn!!! coming very soon yall

[delcakoo]

enha giving you partner privilege ˖ ࣪ ˒ ‎♡⃕

requested <3

PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff!

WC ! 3.1k

WARNINGS ! being judged for wearing a skirt in jungwon’s

a/n: help i’m sorry this took literal months but finally feeding u all an enha reaction-ish T-T i took multiple long breaks between most of these so. sorry if it’s weird lol

LEE HEESEUNG !

if literally anybody tries to tease or make fun of this man.. oh no

he is NOT afraid to retaliate and tear them to shreds, even if it’s his closest friends or members <\3

when it comes to you though..

he just ,, LETS YOU ?!

and everyone else agrees that it’s totally unfair, INCLUDING YOU because you wanted a reaction.. that’s the whole point of teasing :(

but instead he just sits there with a dumb little smirk because he thinks you’re so cute and wants to give you a kiss as you continue calling him a loser 🧌

“hah, you suck. i don’t even play video games and i won,” you taunt with a big, victorious grin

heeseung doesn’t even complain or fight back, continuing to go past the results screen with a nonchalant smirk, “yeah yeah.. you just got lucky”

however, you begin to pout slightly, earning no actual reaction from your relentless teasing

so you try and push him further, “nuh uh, i think you’re just bad. but it’s okay seungie, you can’t be good at everything~”

well, that doesn’t work either

instead of getting mad heeseung just GRINS, quietly admiring how cute you look when you’re all cocky and smug about your little victory

aaand then everything goes downhill when sunghoon enters the room 😟

the tall boy snickers immediately at the sight of the tv, watching your character dance in victory, “nice one, y/n!”

you grin up at the younger with a wink, “thanks hoon, i must admit, it was an easily won battle.”

he laughs harder, “next time you gotta go easy on him,” feeling brave apparently, sunghoon has the nerve to ruffle your boyfriend’s fluffy hair with a mischievous smirk, “you know how hyung gets when he loses.”

yikes

heeseung’s once adoring expression turns into one of (half joking) annoyance, jaw clenched as he swats sunghoon’s hand away from his head

“really bro? 1v1 me right now then, i’ll kick your ass and we both know it,” he sasses, getting ready to throw the other controller at the boy

the speed in which sunghoon bolted outta the room in pure terror

you’re just 🧍

“no fair, how come you don’t get mad when i tease you?” you complain, crossing your arms like a toddler

heeseung’s expression softens again, pulling you towards his side of the couch for a warm hug, “s’cause you’re my baby,” he murmurs cheesily against your skin

“and ‘cause i let you win.”

“aw— wait what?” 😕

// PARK JAY !

the amount of privilege you have as this man’s partner?? lord

there is a lOt

you get excused for every little thing

even though jay hates ppl touching his hair he lets you?! and of course will make you food ALL the time

while if anyone else asks, they’ll prob have to spend some time convincing him for a while or bribe him y’know

but perhaps the biggest one..

disturbing jay during his naps is equivalent to asking for a punch in the face

it’s pretty much common knowledge amongst the members that it’s impossible to wake him up anyway

but if they somehow do get him up, they should expect many annoyed grunts and remarks and probably a middle finger before he inevitably falls back to sleep

naps are very serious business for mr park

BUT when you’re in the picture..

suddenly he gets all soft and compliant..

his members find this very annoying and you’re just like hah losers 🥰

at this point they start facetiming you whenever he’s napping because bro practically launches out of bed at the sound of your voice

“hyung, hyung wake up!” jungwon is literally shaking the older boy, pushing him back and forth on the bed

yet he is sTiLL asleep

there has to be some kind of sleeping competition they can sign him up for because god he deserves an award <\3

jungwon eventually gives up, calling for sunghoon’s help

and how does he help?

giving him a big smack on the head of course

finally, jay flinches awake, groaning as he touches his head, “what the hell hoon?!”

“dinner’s ready! ” jungwon quickly announces with a grin, “me and sunoo tried cooking this time and i swear, we didn’t burn anything and it actually tastes—“

“don’t care. let me sleep.”

“but hyung the—“

*snores*

sunghoon sighs, “alright, it’s time we pull out the big guns.”

by that, they mean forcing you to come over there in exchange for some of the boys’ homemade dinner

jungwon and sunghoon watch from the doorway as you tiptoe over to the bed, doing what you do best: tricking your boyfriend

“pretty boy,” you whisper, tracing down his sharp jawline with a feathering touch

and like that, jay starts stirring, eyes eventually fluttering open

“oh, so i have to slap him, but they just cARess his face and suddenly he’s rising and shining— ow!” sunghoon groans when jungwon elbows him into the wall to shut him up

jay yawns, “y/n? what’re you doing here?”

he reaches up to give you a peck, and you nearly coo at his raven hair all tangled cutely

“wanted to have dinner with you guys,” you lie, grabbing his hand to pull him up

“yeah but i was napping..” he protests childishly, making jungwon roll his eyes in the background

it was rare for jay to have his baby moments, but it happens !!

you continue rubbing his hand, “well you also have to eat babe, and i’m gonna be here too.”

at that, he sighs, but gets up from bed, stretching with a yawn

“hallelujah!” sunghoon cheers, prancing over to give you a high five

jungwon groans, “what would we do without you y/n”

jay is just 🧍

“aish.. you were forced here to wake me up weren’t you?”

all three of you make nervous eye contact before running off to the kitchen jungwon claps his hand at last, “who’s ready to have the most life changing meal of your lives?”

// SIM JAEHYUN !

jake’s a little shy about it

but if someone takes something of his he will definitely go D:

he does a little pout!!

and if it’s something that he absolutely REFUSES to share

like a straw

then he’ll be like “ay that’s mine, go get your own!!” in a half joking, jake way y'know?

but when it comes to you…

he cant say no to your cute face <3

everything jake owns? yours

congrats you have a whole second closet now

want some of his food? take the whole plate !!

he even calls you layla’s other parent despite being very very protective of her :(((

thats when you knew you’re extremely special to him !

jake’s just peacefully lying on the couch, waiting for you to finish up showering

when all of a sudden heeseung strolls in, humming as he goes to fill up a glass of water in the kitchen

as jake was about to greet him, his brows furrow at the sight of a familiar logo on the back of the older boy’s green shirt

“hyung..?” he calls suspiciously

“hmm?”

“is that my shirt?”

heeseung looks down for a moment, scanning his outfit before shrugging

“maybe. found it on the floor,” the older replies

jake just frowns

“bro, i don’t wanna share shirts with you! you’re always sweaty as hell after playing league until 3am!”

heeseung takes a leisurely sip of his water, uncaring of the whiney younger boy on the couch, “well too bad. stop leaving your shit on the floor then.”

before jake can give him another pouty complaint, the sound of a yawn coming out of his room leads both boy’s to turn and investigate

a huge smile rushes to jake’s face at the sight of you in one of his t-shirts just like heeseung, the soft white fabric overflowing down your thighs

“angel! is that my shirt?” he giggles cutely

“uh yeah, is that okay?”

“what, of course! you look adorable, c’mere angel,” your boyfriend demands with grabby hands, ignoring heeseung’s disbelieving eye roll nearby

“but when i wear your shirt it’s the end of the goddamn world, huh?”

you snicker quietly as you walk over to jake, letting him pull you in for a kiss

jake smirks, “mhm, now give it back or i’m eating all our ramen without you.”

“you wouldn’t..”

“try me, hyung~”

then he sticks his tongue out in his classic jake way 💪

// PARK SUNGHOON !

getting straight to the point here

when someone touches sunghoon he’s immediately on guard

he’s a lot better with those who are close to him, but he still gets a bit stiff and awkward

and with strangers.. he’ll just try and find an escape right away

this goes especially for his facial area

he will not hesitate to swat anyone’s hand away or flinch in annoyance if they try to pinch his cheeks or poke his nose >:(

similarLY to how sunoo was now

“i saw you blushing when that engene in the front row called you hot~” the younger boy snickers, “you’ve been an idol for two years now, and you’re still not used to that?”

then suddenly hoon’s cheeks are being pushed together, making his lips form a pout

“our sunghoonie is so cute~”

his hand is quickly slapped away 😒

“ow!”

before sunoo can even complain you’re rushing into the dressing room with a vip pass around your neck, running over to give your boyfriend a hug

sunoo watches with a pout as you cup sunghoon’s jaw, reaching up to give him a peck

“you did amazing as usual, i’m so proud!”

yeah

contrary to pretty much everyone else, sunghoon wants your touch and enjoys it thoroughly <3

in your hold, he’s completely relaxed; pushing his cheek further into your hand as he wraps his arms around you

“thank you,” he whispers with a cheeky grin

feeling playful, you even go to pinch his cheeks

and instead of getting mad the boy just gigGLES like a whipped idiot

sunoo crosses his arms, “what!? no fair!”

hoon kinda forgot his bandmate was there to witness everything 🧌

“yah, why’re you still there?” he barks, “shoo!”

you purse your lips to hold in your laugh, waving bye to the sulking boy who only rolls his eyes

you snicker once he’s gone, “so.. what was that about?”

sunghoon sighs, “don’t worry about it..” you raise a brow when he scoops you up, placing you on the makeup table, “now, where were we? celebrating how good i did, right ;)”

// KIM SUNOO !

this one’s a lil’ hard because sunshine is kinda bad at saying no and lets his members get away with a bit toO much

but he still tries to be is very strict when it comes to paying for things because why should he be paying for niki’s new pokemon game ??

of course if it’s his members birthday, an occasional treat, or maybe if he lost a bet it’d be an exception

but besides that he’s pretty good at not falling for the members puppy eyes and pouty whining

this of course isn’t the same for you

you’re literally the love of his life!! his partner of COUrse he has to spoil you and buy you absolutely everything you want >:(

sunoo will literally tell you beforehand to not let him sEe your wallet on dates or he’ll get upset

(even though when he becomes all pouty you only think he’s adorable)

sunoo would be doing his skincare

having the time of his life y’know putting his face mask on and—

“hyung, can you—“ before he can even finish, riki starts CACKLING and sunoo already knows it’s because of his green face mask ..

“you— you look like-“ he snorts, “the little green guy from monsters inc-“

sunoo slaps his arm, “yah, i do not. what do you want, brat?”

the younger boy grins, staring at him through the mirror

“so… splatoon 3 came out and..”

“absolutely not”

riki gAsps in offense, “why not!? it’s only like 90$!”

“do i look like your mom?”

“kinda—“

“shut up. go ask jake hyung, you know he can’t say no to you”

then suddenly

you, who was on your boyfriend’s bed waiting for his return, prance into the bathroom as well

“sunnie guess what!?”

sunoo smiles brightly at your arrival, pausing his ministrations to meet your eyes

“hmm?”

you grab his arm, shaking him back and forth, “seventeen is coming on tour here next month! we have to get tickets!”

he gasps, “really!? okay, i’ll get us tickets tonight!”

but then riki.. 🧌

“hyung, why will you buy y/n a concert ticket but i can’t get a game?”

“because they’re y/n and you’re riki ☺️”

ouch <\3

// YANG JUNGWON !

AWHhh won’s the cutest with giving you privilege T-T

there’s a lot of super small things that you might not even notice

like letting you touch his dimples, wear his clothes or play with his hair

you may not realise your privilege ‘cause if anyone else did those things he proBably wouldn’t say anything

because he’s jungwon

BUT when you do it he genuinely encourages you and gets all giggly <3

one thing you’ve definitely noticed though is how protective wonnie tends to get over you compared to others

he’s already quite protective of the people he loves as is

but 99% of the time he won’t mention or say anything if an issue comes up:

say an interviewer makes a comment he doesn’t approve of

some backhanded compliment to one of his members

or maybe a joke gone too far

he isn’t the type to say something rude in response or bring it up off camera, at most the interviewer would receive a very harsh glare and frown

when it comes to his partner though..

no no absolutely nOt.

you are his responsibility!! his person, his love and therefore he will not hesitate to defend you and fight anyone who dares to bring a tear to your face

suddenly his normal coherent thoughts of ‘it’s okay jungwon, don’t say anything, be professional’ FLIES OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE no. he will not accept this

for example!!

one day you and won were going on a cute lil picnic in the park <3

you decided to wear a skirt for the heck of it, thinking it’d look cute especially with the picnic idea and the weather getting a tad warmer

so once you’re both out of the car, jungwon holding the basket of pastries while you carried the drinks and blanket, you were both pretty sure nothing could ruin the cheery mood

jungwon even complimed your skirt, mentioning how he thought it suited you perfect :D

“wah, i’ve been wanting to have a picnic all year. really, this is gonna be perfect!” your boyfriend says cheekily

“mhm, next time we should bring mauemi though!”

you wait for jungwon’s reply with a smile, but it quickly drops when you look up to see an old woman on a bench staring at you as if you’d done something terrible, her wrinkly face pulled into a displeased frown

brows furrowing, you follow her gaze to your bare legs, a tug of insecurity forming in your stomach as she scans you up and down

“..and the squirrels would be perfect to chase—“ jungwon pauses when he glances over at you, worry increasing as he notices your visibly deflated expression, “jagi?”

his eyes follow yours, widening when he sees the lady send you daggers from across the park

jungwon’s brows furrow, holding your hand tighter with every step you take closer to her

if it was anyone else, he knew that he wouldn’t say a thing; probably brush it off, maybe send her a frown back

but he simply can’t help the words that tumble from his mouth, “is something wrong, ma’am?”

your eyes widen right away because wonnie nEver has the guts to call people out like that usually???

ESPEcially not an elderly person ..

of course, the old woman only scoffs rudely in response, muttering something in a malicious tone under her breath

the boy holding your hand smirks in satisfaction and you sigh, quickly leading him away as fast as possible

“yah, why’d you do that?!” you whisper-yell

he gives you an obvious glance, “because i didn’t like how she looked at you”

jungwon looks cute 99% of the time, but at that moment with the harsh glare on his face, he’s a bit intimidating even to you <\3

you gulp, “still..”

“no, y/n,” he interrupts sternly, “i refuse to let my pretty s/o stay upset when there’s something i can do about it”

with that, jungwon places down the picnic basket and starts pulling out your snacks like nothing happened <3

“so, what should we eat first?” :D

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

sigh.

now for this boy your partner privilege is THROUGH THE ROof okay

the difference in how he treats you to everyone else??

literally anyone can see the difference even if it’s their first time meeting you guys

riki’s a combo of all the previous ones

lets u wake him up whenever and even interrupt him while dancing/gaming

definitely gives u all the pda u want but if anyone else tries it he may bite them

and ofc defends you withOut hesitation even if it’s just some lame joke he will roast them right back mf !!!

the most noticeable point though is for sure how a majority of the time he listens to whatever you say ON THE FIRST TRY

it’s ‘majority of the time’ because if he didn’t annoy you at least a bit that wouldn’t be riki

it could be something so small

sunghoon and you would be chilling on the couch, then he’d see riki walk in

“yah, can you get me a water?”

mans gets ignored as niki pUshes him over to sit next to you instead

“no, i’m lazy.”

sunghoon just rolls his eyes, meanwhile you were on your phone; completely oblivious to the conversation as you reach over to kiss the younger boy’s cheek

“babe, can you go grab me a drink please?”

bro SPRINTS to the kitchen without another word 🧌

nobody knows why he’s so enthusiastic to serve you but !!

sunghoon is tempted to call him a simp

or exhibit b

you’re at the dorms watching jake and niki play some video game

or at least. they were supposed to be playing together

but apparently it was a single player game and your boyfriend was being a bit of a hog judging by how they were practically wrestling on the carpet for the controller 😟

then after a while longer jake desperately calls out for you

“y/nnn he won’t give me a turn!”

you realise at that moment that this is what having kids must feel like

meanwhile riki gives u that innocent look as if he did nothing

you sigh, “yah, give jake a turn. haven’t you been playing for like 15 minutes straight?”

jake nods furiously in agreement

he pouts, “well yeah but..”

you give him the stink eye

aaand he passes the controller over without any more complaints <\3

jake lets out a vEry sarcastic thank you while riki wanders all the way over to you and plops down in your embrace like a whiny toddler

then he just looks up at you from your lap

“you look pretty today.”

jake groans in the background while you nearly choke

“all of a sudden??”

“yeah,” he replies simply, “i don’t mind giving up my spot to jake ‘cause i have a much better view now~”

what will you do with this boy 😞

if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments r always appreciated!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho @monstaxdirtywonk @dekusgirl @taejays @kodzukii @yjjungwon @miou45 @rosie-is-everywhere @yenqa @rosenatorfirst @millsielovesgyu @syrxiee2 @ily-cuz-i @soobin-chois

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Hermitcraft / Life Series Fic Recs

Because I love so many of them...

I'll split the fics into completed and updating fics, and try to only recommend currently updating fics (i.e., not abandoned). I'm going to write a little about why I like each fic and what the general vibes are - so this is also a kind of review I guess?

I've tried to @ the authors if they have a public tumblr. Sorry to anyone who didn't want to be tagged, I can remove any @ if you ask (or if I have embarrassingly tagged the wrong person). Anyway, enjoy, and I appreciate reblogs because I want as many people to see these fics as possible!!

This ended up being incredibly long so I'm putting a divider here. Click to keep reading!!! Also, fair warning: shipping ahead! Some fics will have mild sexual content, please read the tags if you are unsure <3

Updating Fics

I have already recommended Help Me To Breathe, lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart), and There Are Monsters Nearby in this post, so I won't explain why I like them a second time, but definitely check them out!!

Death's A Good Gig by @mawofthemagnetar is probably going to be finished by the time this post gets to you, reader, but I'm putting it here anyway. It's short and sweet, one of my favourite representations of Zedaph (or, Zedeath) I've read, and just a joy to experience. If you like grim reapers and discussions of unions, this one is for you. Also I need more Zedaph in my life.

Look, I'm Sorry, Please Stop Scaring Everyone by @cat-in-the-desert reminds me a lot of a particular TV drama I liked when I was younger, which followed a similar premise. This fic follows Mumbo (vampire) and Grian (ghost) as they get up to various housemate shenanigans and meet their local magic-expert and salesman Scar. This fic is fun, but still includes a nice amount of Feelings and hinted-at Angst which I really love. It's lighthearted, but never boring.

It Hurts To Hope by Inquillitory is my favourite of the "Grian crash lands into Hermitcraft and causes problems for everyone" genre. Seeing how many fics there are with that premise, I think that says a lot. It handles Grian's weird Watcher stuff really well. Honestly, I just want to know what happens next!

killing the boy in the tv by @raspberrystruck is like a sickfic on steroids. If you want Grian with so much past trauma he forgets how to function in society, this is basically the fic for you. I really love how hybrid traits affect the characters' interactions in this fic, and how everyone is kind of messed up because of the imbalance Grian brings. It is wonderfully descriptive in all the right places!

Love Me Like I'm Dead by @daniofcrows is such a gem. You know how hard it is to find good Xisuma whump? It's impossible. I absolutely love how Xisuma and Evil X are characterised in this, and I am obsessed with the unique take on hanahaki disease which I have never seen handled in this way before. The balance between flashbacks and present day is maintained wonderfully and I cannot wait to continue reading this one. Wow.

Oh, you wanted me to do a verse? by @bugbbear is... kind of indescribable. It's horror. It's comedy. It's the apocalypse. It's boatem. Scar eats someone. One of the most interesting and unique apocalypse stories I have read. Slowly updating but worth the wait, in my opinion. This one NEEDS more attention.

So Much For Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters is basically one of my all-time favourites. Which is a damn good achievement seeing as I don't usually read ZITS fics. Like, ever. In this fic, Skizz is a human abducted and hurt badly by aliens, now recovering in the care of good aliens who don't know how 'sentient' he is. Every update of this one makes me smile, it is wonderful. I love how the characters are written and how the different perspectives are shown. It is just great.

Solar Waltz by @raspberrystruck and aroundtheclock is a brilliant and very very sad regression fic. I love fluffy regression fics as much as the next guy, but this one just... hits different. The hurt/comfort levels are off the charts. Grian is so damn cute the whole time, while also being harrowingly complicated and sad. I am so ready for whatever comes next.

Tango's Castle of Cards by @evilrat-sabre is the one where Tango is a BUG. He's just a little guy (horror). This one is so beautifully written, with poetry-type interludes and perspective changes that really make everything feel so much more impactful. Finding out your buddy is a murder bug isn't the easiest thing in the world. I love this so much.

Traveling Thieves {Dark Fantasy AU} (series) by @amethystfairy1 is basically one of the series of all time. I know I keep saying that but it really really is. I love a good fantasy au, and I love an au with hybrids even more. In this world, hybrids are treated like slaves, but it isn't all doom and gloom for the main characters of each installment. There is a lot of hurt/comfort and the different stories feed into each other in really interesting ways. I try to read as much as I can, though I've missed a few because my emails are buggy. Definitely worth reading these fics, especially since now they're all starting to come together!

Completed Fics

Solving Counting Sheep by @theminecraftbee might have rearranged my brain chemistry a little. Another strong contender for 'fics that inspire me to kill Grian', this time with a more concrete notion of "replacement". Three is my favourite fucked up living weapon. It's so rare to find Evo fics in this day and age, too. This fic had me immediately clicking on every update as soon as I got the emails.

Rescue Fire by @imaginethat0327 is one of the most unique takes on a fictionalised life series game that I have ever read. The whole concept is explained in a realistic and easy-to-follow way, as we learn what's happening with the characters. There are several brilliant storylines happening in this one, but my particular favourites are Jimmy & Tango, Joel, and of course Scar & Grian. This fic is full of whump and, well, read the tags, it isn't always pleasant, but those are my favourite things ever. Definitely worth checking out this fic and its currently updating sequel.

don't you know about me? by takenbadgering is a wonderful comedy of errors with just the right amount of angst for a realistic setting type of fic. If you enjoy polyamory miscommunications, rave aesthetics, kandi, school teacher dynamics, and a lovely blend between grumbo, cubscar, and mumscar, this is the one.

Eventually the Birds Must Land by @milo-hypno follows a polyam ship I would have never thought of, and I cannot believe how much I loved it. This married-as-friends fic premise is wonderful, and captures the main trio (Grian, Mumbo, Impulse)'s personalities so well, while balancing them with the incredibly terrifying descriptions of the Watchers and their power. There's a lot of angst here, but it is ultimately hurt/comfort to the maximum degree. I loved reading it as it updated. Yay for gay marriage!

From The Archives (series) by @sixteenth-days was the absolute inspiration for my own Comms AU, and I will never forget its influence on me. As someone basically unfamiliar with TMA, I thought this series might be hard to follow, but it was not! I read all 57 parts in the span of two days, and I think it altered my brain chemistry. Please read it, even if (especially if) you don't know anything about TMA. The Cleo and Grian storyline lives in my head rent free. I mean it. This is horror at its finest. Also there's an audio series of this fic being released rn, which is very cool.

SUPERCRITICAL by @masque-of-plague hits different. It is such a wonderful take on the superhero/HotGuy trope, and it gets so super dark at some points! This one really takes swings at it's fictional government, which of course I love, while at the same time building this brilliantly emotional relationship between Scar and Grian. I do enjoy a bit of enemies to lovers, but the actual plot mixed into the story makes this one extra special. It is thrilling, with action that I don't get to see too often! Great work.

I am weary with contending! is one of the mumscarian fics of all time. From 'this house has people in it'-type horror, to magic gone wrong, to childhood trauma, to attempted assassination, to gender fuckery, this fic has it all. Usually I don't go for convex siblings, but this one is good enough to get a pass from me. Amazingly detailed worldbuilding alongside a brilliantly creative story.

It Spreads by @foxxology may not count as a fic, actually. It's a comic. But it's posted on ao3 so it counts. I was obsessed with this one as it was updating, honestly. It rocked me to my core. The art is phenomenal. The writing is brilliant. I love sculk.

Luck of the sea by Sleepy_Duck is a lovely take on mermaid and human interactions, with Grian as a marine life conservator and Scar as a very neglected mer. This one takes us emotionally in all sorts of directions, and offers lots of hope for the future of the characters. I heavily enjoyed this fic - if you like mermaids and marine biology, check it out.

there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag is another mermaid fic but with a pretty different vibe. First of all, it follows what I would consider a rarepair Doc/Martyn. Second of all, reading this as it updated was a thrilling experience that nearly made me cry at certain points. I love how the relationship builds in this fic. It is honestly amazing. The whole idea of experimenting on a sentient sea creature, learning that he can communicate, then losing funding and having to save him from being dissected?!?! It's crazy. I love it.

Thus concludes my fic recommendations. I hope you enjoy at least some of these, and consider reblogging to spread these wonderful fics around <3

[midnight-mourning]

Sugary Sweet

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 5❄️❄️

ough, this was supposed to be late night but had a lot to say and was too sleepy to finish saying it, thank being said, hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun with it

Prompt: Reader moon and sun making those Walmart sugar cookies (like the ones with the trees on them) and hot cocoa in a warm cozy house 👀

Word Count: 1704

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Alright,"—You set several grocery bags down on the counter—"Are you ready?"

Sun nods, then salutes. "As I'll ever be!"

"Oven's on?" You ask.

"425 Fahrenheit!"

A nod. "Christmas playlist at the ready?"

He presses the button on your speaker, flooding the room with music. "Playing now!"

"And we have all our supplies?"

"3 containers of sprinkles, 5 different icings, several various candies for toppings, baking sheets, and of course—" He dumps one of the grocery bags on the counter, then another, and one final third bag as well. "—15 boxes of ready to bake cookies!"

You nod. "Okay, let's get to it then, we've got, a lot, of baking to do."

When you'd first proposed the idea of baking cookies, the Attendant had been thrilled. When you'd found however, the amount of cookies they'd wanted to make—to give out throughout the neighborhood—you'd curve the idea from making cookies to instead, getting premade and decorating them, which seemed to be just as exciting.

After a quick run to the store, you were now here, placing disks of dough across multiple baking sheets. Your oven could only handle two trays at a time, so you were probably going to be in here until late tonight, but you didn't mind. It was the weekend, and it was cold and snowy outside, so you had no place you'd rather be. 

Not to mention, since the daycare attendant had moved into your home, you hadn't gotten to spend much time together. Which, one would think would in fact quell the crush that you'd been developing since long before everything that happened, but it was in fact quite the opposite. 

You'd run into one of them in the hallway, and while the close proximity was nothing you weren't used to before, now with the added factor they were living in your house, it flustered you, to say the least. Sun's quiet giggle or Moon's soft chuckle making your heart race. 

Or sitting on the couch together while you watched TV. You were sure the casual cuddling didn't mean anything, but it certainly made you feel something. Like when Moon's arm rested on your shoulder, or his sunny counterpart covering you both with the too small throw you had, forcing you to sit closer to relax comfortably. 

Or something like making dinner, chatting away with one of the two as you worked together on a meal only you would be enjoying. Not too dissimilar to now. 

"Whatcha thinking about?"

You look up from decorating one of your cookies. The first two batches having come out of the oven just a little bit ago. 

You smile and shake your head. "Nothing important. How's your little army of snowmen coming along?"

"Splendid!" Sun replies. "I think adding sprinkles really makes them pop!"

You stand on your tiptoes to peer at the side of the counter across from you where he's hard at work. "Oh wow, yeah. Nice work."

"Thank you~ And how are your efforts going?"

You cringe, not even wanting to move back out of the way so he can see your cookies. "Oh, it's... going."

You'd just been adding small dots of icing and such to give your reindeer hats and scarves. Very poorly drawn hats and scarves. Which, to be fair, you're not an artist as is, you think trying to draw with icing is a feat in and of itself. 

"Let me see!" Before you can react, Sun's leaning over his side of the kitchen island, and being much taller than you, can see over you and down at your cookies easily. "Well done Starshine! Those look great."

Suddenly, he shifts back so that you're now only a few inches apart, meeting in the middle of the counter essentially, eye to eye. 

"Hi." You say, unsure of what to do. 

His faceplate spins once, twice, "Hello, —"

"What was that?" You hadn't caught the end of his sentence, murmured too quietly for you to pick up.

Sun's eyes widen and then he leans backwards to stand upright again, clapping his hands. "Nothing important! We have work to do, right?"

You try to ignore the warmth on your cheeks and cough, falling back on your heels. "Right."

You do your best to forget the moment, and sometime later something else happens that makes the strange feeling in your chest grow that much larger. 

You're about halfway done now, and throughout your baking session you've been finding yourself to be more and more aware of Sun's actions. 

The glances you'd catch every now and again between each other or the random touches when you both reached for the same icing. His hand on your shoulder while he set your hot coco down in front of you, lingering for just a moment beside you before returning to his side of the counter to decorate. 

To say you felt like you were being a bit delusional about it all was an understatement. As much like every other interaction you had with Sun—and Moon—on a daily basis, you assumed you were reading far too much into it. 

That was, until then unexpected happened. 

Accidentally, when reaching for sprinkles, the icing you'd gotten on your hand had gotten onto Sun's as he reached for the same container. 

"Oh! Shoot, I'm sorry,"—you look around for a towel—"Here let me—"

Before you can do anything else, you find that there's now more icing on the top of your hand. Glancing up, you see Sun's face is turned up and away, pretending to whistle a tune. 

You feel a grin split across your features. You take another dollop of icing, and reach across the counter to get him back, but miss as he steps back out of the way. You try again, and his quiet chuckle only eggs you on further. 

Finally you get frustrated enough to try and chase him around the counter, managing to swipe his arm. Sun spins around and, after arming himself with an entire spoonful of the stuff. 

You both stand frozen for a moment. Then he takes a step. Then another. 

You struggle to contain your giggles. "No, don't you dare."

He laughs again, and keeps moving toward you. 

You panic, and laughing start to race around the counter as he follows after you. You fake each other out a few times before he tricks you, managing to snatch your wrist and spin you into his grasp. Back to his chest you look up at his cheeky stare, waiting for the worst with eyes wide. 

"Boop." He places a dollop of icing on the end of your nose. 

You go cross-eyed trying to look at it and he giggles, arms shifting to wrap around you. 

Your hands come up to rest on his forearms, not sure what to do. 

"You're really cute like this." He says, more to himself, after a moment. "It makes me want to—" He stops. Then looks away, hold faltering, "I'm sorry I, I know you're not..." 

When you realize he's not going to say anything else, you reach one hand up to cup his chin, turning his face back down to look at you. Your other hand finds one of his and squeezes it. 

"Do it." You say. "Whatever it is, do it. Please."

Sun's rays spin at this, and he nods slightly. Craning his neck down, his smile meets your lips, and you melt instantly. 

It's a brief kiss, but it's soft, tender. He pulls away after a moment. 

"You've got a little something on your face." You muse. The icing from before now smeared on his faceplate. 

He seems to only half hear you, if at all. "Maybe you should fix that..."

You giggle, and he seems to realize what he's saying. 

Sometime later, after a bit of cleanup and a heartfelt discussion. You're sitting in front of the oven, watching the last of the cookies bake. 

It was dark out now, and you had only the glow of the oven to see by. Not that you minded, as after your chat you had now acquired not just one, but two robot boyfriends. One of which was sitting beside you currently, holding your hand as you sip hot coco. 

"I had a lot of fun today." You say, turning to him. 

Moon chuckles, "With which part? The decorating or the kissing?"

"Hey, there was only a little bit of kissing." You scoff, but can feel your ears burning. 

Quiet between the two of you, just the humming of the oven and the sound of your heating system in the background. 

"We had assumed that you simply weren't interested."

You twist to face him. "How could I not be?" You smile, confused. 

Moon's faceplate twists, staring at you a moment. 

"Star, we've been actively flirting with you since the moment you walked into the Daycare."

You blink once, twice. "Excuse me?"

"Did, were we not—" Moon stops, clearly baffled. "You didn't know?"

You briefly think back on all the times you'd shot down the idea that the attendant had been flirting with you, and a horrible sense of realization overtakes you, hand coming up to your mouth. "Oh no."

At this, Moon starts to snicker, then it becomes a full blow laugh. As it rises in volume you sputter, face on fire. You reach out to smack his arm and miss, falling forward into his lap. 

His laughter cuts off and you just stare at each other. 

You speak up. "Well, you going to hold me or not? Since I'm so otherwise oblivious."

His faceplate spins rapidly, and you're quickly pulled into his lap properly, facing each other. 

Just as he's about to kiss you, the timer goes off for the cookies, halting any chance of that happening. 

It should, anyway. "Hold on, let's get those out first."

"They can wait. I heard Mrs. Walters likes her cookies crispy." Moon states, leaning back in. 

You protest about it greatly, but a smattering kisses distracts you for a little longer. Though only a little. While tempting for the smallest of seconds, you'd rather not let store-bought cookies be the reason your kitchen burns down. 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the lovely request @buzzybee3 I may have went a little wild with it 😅 Still I hope you enjoyed!! Triggered a childhood memory of making cookies hehe ^_^

If you're interested in requesting, you have until 12/13 OR until I recieve 31 requests, currently only have about 14 so feel free to request if you haven't already! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[embrosegraves]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘

Just a lil something I thought of and couldn't get out of my head :P I hope you enjoy <3

Max Verstappen x Reader  “If you can justify the purchase, then you can buy it for me.” Sugar Daddy x Slightly Reluctant! Sugar Baby

very brief google translated dutch (it's like 2 thing near the end)

You weren’t sure how you managed to get to this point in your life. One night you were working at your local club, trying to make ends meet with three jobs. You needed to pay for rent and utilities and food and the ever looming University degree you had begun studying for. You never thought you’d ever get to a point of financial comfortability, because the situation definitely wasn’t the most stable but it was comfortable. 

At first you thought he was just another rich snob who wanted to impress his mates with the amount of money he could spend on a single night. And to be fair he kinda was. He just also happened to be the one that sat with you while you worked the bar, listening to your woes of being a uni student who needed to work more than one job throughout the day on top of going to class.  

Now though, almost exactly 3 years after first meeting him, you couldn’t believe what you were looking at. 

“I’m not letting you buy that for me, Max.”

“Why not?” He was almost (definitely) pouting. 

“Because I can buy my own laptop? And besides, my final year is almost over, I can get it after.” 

Max looked at you unimpressed. “The one you have now is falling apart. You need a new one.”

You grabbed his hand and slowly led him to a bench that was outside the store you were just standing in. “My love, I adore that you want to get me a new laptop for school, but you cannot justify spending three and a half million dollars on a laptop for me. I don’t care if it’s Swarovski, I don’t care if it’s the best laptop in the world. I don’t need it.”

It was always like this between you and Max. He wanted to buy you the most insanely expensive things just because he could, but you always told him not to. Looking at him in front of you, his face sporting an almost unnoticeable frown, you sighed. Keeping hold of his hand in yours, you moved your free hand to cradle his face. 

“I will let you buy me a laptop-” His face lit up, “on the condition that it cost no more than eight thousand. I know I cannot get you to spend like a regular person, so that will be the cap on how much you spend on my laptop.”

“You never let me do anything fun.” Max was pouting again, but you could see his eyes were happy. 

“Well, that’s tough Schat. If it makes you feel better, after you get the laptop because I’m not budging on that, you can buy me whatever you want-” You held your hand in front of him before Max could interrupt and start celebrating, “but you have to be able to properly justify the purchase. Which means no more mindless spending on things, okay?” 

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “As long as I still get to spoil you, like you deserve, then I will agree to your conditions.” 

You felt as he placed a kiss on your head before you moved back. You gave him a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. 

“Go. I can tell you’re just wanting to find a laptop to get me.”

He laughed and kissed you again before grabbing your hands and leading to a different tech store for your new laptop. “Let’s go then, Mijn Liefje!”

Translations (Provided by Google Translate) Schat = Darling Mijn Liefje = My Love

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Vash and Femininity: Trigun Stampede and its Themes of Bodily Autonomy, Exploitation, and Vague Gender Fuckery

alright sit the fuck down. we're gonna talk about THEMES

I was on Twitter- terrible idea usually, but a couple people I follow made some tweets that got me thinking about Trigun's overall themes, and here we are. So let's talk about some themes in Tristamp! And I'll take a couple looks at Trimax as well, just for fun :3

Let's look at how the showrunners utilize gender roles and exploitation of feminine characters to show how unhealthy Knives' obsession with his ideal of Vash is, and how horrific his exploitation of Vash and the Plants is.

Vash, from the beginning of Tristamp, is someone who cares about people's choices. When people kill others in front of him, he reiterates that whether someone lives or dies is not another person's choice to make. This is something he learned from Rem (a prominent female figure in his life). He refuses to kill people because that is not his choice to make. To kill someone is the ultimate removal of their bodily autonomy. They can no longer make any choices at all; they're dead.

Vash is also someone who has almost no choice in what path his life takes. He's constantly dragged around by outside forces, namely situations that are caused by Knives (which we'll get into later). Vash doesn't make things happen, things happen to Vash. The majority of events that occur are not his fault. He's pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. His entire life is completely out of his control.

This can be seen as early on in his life as the Fall, something he had no control over and had no idea he even had a part in. Even later, in the ship with Luida and Brad, after he's been rescued from the desert, he's kept in handcuffs right up until he's shown to be of use to them and the Plant on their ship. After that, he could theoretically say "no, I don't want to go to other ships and heal their plants," but he doesn't. He's Vash. He's helpful and nurturing at his core, and these people have done so much for him just by letting him stay, so he'll do whatever they ask, no question.

This carries over into his adulthood. At Jeneora Rock, he goes to look at their Plant at one simple request, doesn't protest when he's dragged into a duel-- he doesn't take initiative unless someone's life is immediately at stake. He lets people tell him what to do and lets himself get dragged around by the wrist. He doesn't even pretend to have control over his life like Trimax Vash does, which I mean. Fair. Why pretend to have a grip on your existence when it's impossible to do anything without a gun pointed at your head?

Vash is a very passive character. He's nurturing, kind, gentle- he's a guy that fits a lot of very typical feminine character stereotypes. If you wrote this same story but made him a woman, I wouldn't bat an eye (but I would definitely be looking at it a lot more critically, what with the amount of stereotypically nurturing/motherly female characters in media already.)

This contrasts directly with Knives. He makes a decision and carries through no matter what stands in his way. He takes initiative. If Vash is a passive character, Knives is an active character. Wherever he goes, he leaves a lasting imprint. He makes shit happen! If outside forces make things happen to him, he'll go out of his way to make sure that particular force doesn't affect him again.

These two tweets I saw are what got me thinking about this originally. I just feel like here's a good place to put them as a segue into talking about episode 11.

Episode 11 is where a lot of this feminine imagery really just. Explodes in your face. IT'S RIGHT THERE. You can't dance around it if you try. And it kind of reaches a peak when the connection reaches 100%, the gate opens, and. well. THIS happens to the Plants.

Plants, in both Trimax and Tristamp, are almost always typically feminine-looking. Knives and Vash are the only two who are male or even masculine at all. Knives, as the most masculine out of all of them, is the one trying to take charge, and mould the world as he sees fit, to a degree that is detrimental to both him and everyone else. And Vash-- passive, feminine, kind and nurturing, whose Angel Arm in the manga always sprouts decidedly feminine-looking Plant parts-- is the one being exploited for Knives' plans. It's no mistake that they made the giant plant formation at the end of ep 11 look like a giant woman that almost resembles Rem.

Vash wants people to make their own choices and keep their autonomy when it comes to their bodies and lives. Knives is the exact opposite. He wants all Plants to become independent and he uses Vash to achieve that goal, without asking what Vash wants or even knowing what the Plants themselves would prefer. He exploits Vash for the soul purpose of trying to make these Plants have Independent Plant babies. He's completely incapable of seeing that his choices are not for the greater good! He thinks he's saving them, but none of his actions are for the good of anyone but himself. He’s just violating them for his own gain.

They're really leaning into gender roles for these guys, but in a way that screams "HEY, LOOK AT THIS! ISN'T IT FUCKED UP? LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. LOOK AT THIS, AND BE UNCOMFORTABLE, AND KNOW THAT IT IS FUCKED UP."

Because it is! It's so extremely fucked up. They're using this imagery and these roles, something that makes most of us intrinsically uncomfortable, to drive home how unhealthy Knives relationship with his ideal of Vash is. That's the point. We're supposed to be uncomfortable with this.

Now of course there's some nuance to it. Like, you could see Knives as somewhat of a feminine and/or queer-coded figure as well, ESPECIALLY if you look at some of his panels in the manga, which could in turn lead to themes about infighting and control within marginalized communities, but that might be something for another post. :3

And there's definitely different ways you could take this! Vash, with all this feminine imagery, could be either transfem or transmasc coded, depending on what way you'd rather see it, which could lead into themes of how people outside the norm constantly face a lack of bodily autonomy and are exploited for purposes outside their boundaries. We could also look at Wolfwood and his lack of choice over joining the Eye of Michael and becoming the Punisher, and how masculine men (particularly men of colour) are often forced into violent roles against their will. If we look at Trimax, the exact same could be said for Livio/Razlo and people with disorders such as DID/OSDD.

There are many different ways you could spin these themes, some of which I don't feel personally qualified to discuss. If anyone who is qualified to talk about Wolfwood or Livio/Razlo or even other characters related to these themes, then god PLEASE add onto this post or make a post and tag me or something. I would love to read it!

Anyway, in conclusion: Vash is a feminine figure constantly taken advantage of and exploited and and he's so incredibly trans/nonbinary-coded that it drives me insane. Thank you

[allastoredeer]

Me : well maybe it's not that bad?

Me : looking for radioapple art and immediately get hit with big buff Alastor and tiny shorter than in canon Lucifer, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by Alastor, Lucifer in a dress getting fucked by big buff Alastor, Lucifer who look like 5 yo and 'suave sugar daddy' Alastor who holds him and each with thousands of likes and absolutely zero of anything else than that

Me : nope 🙃😔

Save me Vox/Al artists, save me

Man, I love Vox/Alastor art so much.

I just love the Vox/Alastor ship as a whole, be it one-sided, mutual, or anything in between, and a lot of it stems from Alastor still feeling like he's Alastor.

I mean, I think people make Alastor a little more cruel and heartless towards Vox sometimes, but overall he still feels like himself. He gets to be dangerous and manipulative and he gets to be silly and whimsical. It's perfect.

Adding a cut right here because this post got WAY longer than I anticipated ⬇️

I think with RadioApple, when it comes to Alastor, people lean too much into this:

And not enough into this:

It feels like his fun, sassy, and whimsical side gets stripped away and he's turned into a stereotypically tall, dark and menacing love interest.

Where's his flamboyancy? His razzamatazz! As Susan would say, "Where's the showmanship? Where's the pizzaz? Fucking mediocre."

If I'm reading a fic or looking at art and I can't imagine their Alastor doing one of his girly-pop wrist flicks -

- then I can't keep going. His girly-pop vibes are too important to me.

Of course, when it comes to tone in both fics and art, sometimes fun and whimsical aren't what the artist is going for. But even outside of NSFW art and stories, so often Alastor just feels...bland. He feels too stiff. Too much like a suave, old fashioned, smooth talking gentleman, and not enough like a fun, silly, and sassy little freak who loves trolling people.

And with Lucifer if feels like they lean too much into this:

And not enough of this:

I feel like any, if not all, of Lucifer's flaws are brushed aside so often and so easily.

He feels softened and watered down. Like he's either a sad & awkward UwU boi all the time, or he's the most flamboyant, seductive little minx there is. And to be fair, he is both a very sad boi and a seductive little minx.

But rarely does he ever come across as powerful to me. A lot of the time he feels too normal. Or too sad and naive. Literally, like he could be any other sinner if I didn't already know he was the kind of Hell. And that's so funny to me because we've seen him openly and extravagantly display his powers multiple times in the show--not to the extent that he did in the finale--but he was definitely flaunting all the things he could do, make, or summon for Charlie during his musical-battle with Alastor. He was 100% showing off how powerful he is.

Not only that, but, honestly, Lucifer feels too open and sincere because that man is judgmental as fuck.

Going back to the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, there are multiple examples of him being a self-righteous little shit: 1) he was incredibly critical of Charlie's hotel the moment he stepped inside, even if he tried, and failed, to cover it, 2) he didn't even try to hide his disgust for Alastor's bar, which he didn't even know was incorporated by Alastor (who he hadn't even met him yet) and could've been incorporated by Charlie or Vaggie, for all he knew, 3) he wasn't taking Charlie's hotel or her plan for redemption seriously from the start, he didn't even have his mind open to the possibility, he wasn't there to hear about her plans he was only there to see her, and 3) when the hotel was attacked by the loan sharks, instead of making them go away or preventing the hotel from being damaged - which he could have very easily done with no amount of effort - he hung back and smugly reiterated that he was right and sinners can't be redeemed and Charlie should just give up on her goals/dreams because it's just not possible so there's no point in trying.

Like, Charlie was very clearly in distress over her hotel being attacked and destroyed, but he was too busy boasting about how he'd been "proven" right to see that.

He's very easy to anger and his ego is so easily bruised. Alastor got under his skin immediately and effortlessly - though I also believe that's on part that Lucifer doesn't have a high opinions of sinners anyway - and Lucifer 100% escalated the conversation/argument he had with Alastor during their first meeting.

See the whole scene of him referring to Alastor as a "has-been" and insulting the name he'd given the hotel, especially when you take into consideration that until Alastor said that he named the hotel, Lucifer thought it was Charlie who came up with it.

And I'm not going to say that Alastor was an innocent, picked on little baby in that scene, he was 100% riling up Lucifer from the start, but also, like...Alastor's lines weren't outright antagonist like Lucifer's were. They were more subtle, slightly needling and passive aggressive, but nothing that could really be taken as a insult.

This is literally the dialogue, word for word, of their very first interaction:

Lucifer: What in the unholy Hell is that?!

Alastor: Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit if color, don't you think?

Lucifer: And you are?

Alastor: Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, Sir, quite a pleasure. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.

Lucifer: Who is this? Who is this now - are you the bellhop?

Alastor: Ah-ha, no! I am the host of the hotel. You might've heard of me from my radio broadcast.

Lucifer: Hmm, nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the "has-been" hotel, hahaha!"

Alastor: Ha ha ha, it was actually my idea.

Lucifer: Ha ha, well it's not very clever.

Alastor: Ha ha, fuck you.

Like. That's their first interaction. And if you go back and actually pay attention to facial expressions and body languages, this was the first time he's seen Alastor, and Lucifer was immediately disdainful.

I went back and screenshotted Lucifer's face, right after Alastor's first line (which was a relatively innocent in and of itself and didn't even sound that antagonist), and:

That's a lot of disesteem for someone he literally just met. At most, you could argue that it was Alastor's smirk or tone that set him off ⬇️:

But even that is such a small thing to get upset over.

I'd say the only time Alastor really started getting openly hostile towards Lucifer was when he wiped his hand after shaking Lucifer's cane (which Lucifer didn't even see as he was too busy fixing his hat) and commenting on Lucifer's height (as a shortie myself, can confirm, that'll get on the nerves very fast).

My point is, Lucifer was immediately unfriendly towards Alastor and escalated the situation just as quickly, if not quicker, than Alastor did. Alastor implied that Lucifer might know of his radio broadcast, and Lucifer jumped right to calling him a "has-been." He doesn't even know him. This is their very first meeting. He was judgy and dismissive of Alastor at first sight, and, let's be honest, he kind of threw the first punch with that "has-been" line. Alastor said Lucifer was shorter than expected, but it's not like he laughed, pointed at him and called him a undercooked little chicken nugget. I'm sure a lot of demons/sinners who've never seen Lucifer would also assume he would be taller and more menacing at first glance, and I doubt this is the first time someone was surprised with his height (still not cool, Alastor. We vertically challenged folk have feelings too).

But Lucifer was prejudice from the start and antagonized Alastor just as quickly, and way more openly, than Alastor did to him. And don't get me wrong, this isn't me saying that's a bad thing on Lucifer's part! This isn't me criticizing or scorning him for it. I think it speaks so much of him as a character!

Cause we've seen the soft and tender moments he has with Charlie. We know how much he loves and cares for her. But he's also egotistical, antagonistic, and judgmental as hell, and that's what makes him such a fun character to write about. He's awkward yet showy, smug yet caring, depressed yet prideful. And by god, this man will show off his power without hesitation. He knows he's hot shit. He knows he's the strongest person in all of Hell. He knows he's the top dog and he can do whatever he wants - even if he has no love or interest in interacting within the Pride Ring (as far as we've been shown).

He's got a lot of multi-facets to him and I adore it, and that's why I get so annoyed when all of that is stripped away and he's turned into this soft little sunshine UwU boi who's just a sad, sweet lil lamb who's done no wrong.

No! He has done many wrongs! There's a reason he and Charlie were estranged and I don't think it was Lilith's fault - or, at least, I don't think it was all her fault (I have many thoughts about Lucifer and Lilith's divorce, okay)

I didn't mean for this to turn into a full-blown character analysist post LOL but alas I tend to get carried away. This was all to say, I really enjoy RadioStatic because Alastor typically gets to keep his sadistic and whimsical side, and I appreciate that. His silliness means a lot a to me, and if he comes off as too stiff or formal, it takes me out of a story.

Lucifer's flaws and sheer power also mean a lot to me, and I wish there were more fics and fan-art that showed that. If Lucifer reads too much like a normal, every-day person, I lose interest. I like the idea of people getting used to him, and getting comfortable around his presence, only to get a sudden and overwhelming reminder that he is, in fact, an ancient and immortal being with immense power that their brains wouldn't even be able to comprehend.

I have so many headcanons about Lucifer as a fallen angel and how his habits and lifestyle developed over the thousands upon thousands of years he's been in Hell. Habits he's adopted that unconsciously help him duplicate the mannerisms and behavior of sinners and demons, but also those small, indistinct tells that are quick and subtle reminder that he could destroy everyone in Pentagram City with ease if he decided to; and also, those times if you were to look closely and really pay attention, you get the faint, unsettling feeling that there is something very un-human about him. A subtle, unnerving shiver down your spine as your instincts yell at you that this person is not a person at all, he's just passing off as one.

That shit gets me. Give me ancient, eldritch Lucifer and I'll love you forever.

I am sorry Anon, I did not mean for this response to get so big 😅 You gave me a paragraph and I gave you a novel. But yeah, save me RadioStatic artists, save me 🙏 I rarely have to worry about Alastor turning into a big, buff alpha man or a soft little UwU when he's with Vox, and I appreciate that.

Edit: Adding a screenshot of my tags here because apparently I wrote down too many and it cut off the character tags.

[theragethatisdesire]

perzītsos - bakugou katsuki x afab!reader, 18+!!

uh....surprise! i really love asoiaf, and i've seen so many posts about barbarian!katsuki, but i wasn't really successful in writing him, so here's my take on a fantasy au with katsuki. this takes place pre-fire and blood, really in the "medieval" days of the targaryen dynasty, with a targaryen heir!reader. i took some creative liberties with targaryen marriage customs, but i think they're sorta fun.

this is a beast of a one-shot, but there's lots of lore preceding this (do i smell a prequel?), including that reader asked for katsuki's hand in marriage, and neither of them were really expecting to wind up in a marriage bed together. i normally don't write virginity loss, but i made an exception for these two, i really do love them!!! fair warning, there's lots of high valyrian in here, which i don't speak fluently either, so i'm going to add some translations at the end :)

"perzītsos" - "little flame"

enjoy <3

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

wc: 13.5k (told ya it's a beast)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut. bakugou is roughly twenty-eight in this fic.

cws: virginity loss, aged-up characters, fingering, oral sex (fem!receiving, male!receiving mentioned), reader has female anatomy, smut, pretentious amounts of high valyrian pet names

𖤓

Leaving the raucous merriment of the great hall behind, its stone walls bursting at the seams with the raunchy, jeering calls of Bakugou’s soldiers and the titters of the ladies of the court, only seems to emphasize the echoing silence of your chambers. The servants had completed the arduous job of transferring your things into your new apartments today; you recognize the tapestries that had decorated your walls since you were a child, now dwarfed by the massive dimensions of your new quarters, and the candelabra you’d been gifted by a nobleman at your seventh name day sits upon a newly constructed ebony desk.

Nearly every hard surface in the room—desks, tables, even small areas of the floor—has been covered in the fat, yellow beeswax candles crafted in the kitchens many stories below your feet, flames dancing and casting shadows this way and that over the stone walls. Many a night have you forgone sleep in favor of losing yourself in the waltz of a small fire on a wick, the sometimes-frantic, sometimes-untroubled rhythm of the flame in the breeze of an open window. Tonight, though, not even the hundreds of flames, these little extensions of the hot, ancient blood that flows through your veins, can distract you from your fate.

“I remember these rooms,” you say offhandedly, bringing one hand to the fine curtains that hang around the tapestry bed, “they were my mother’s.”

Bakugou stays stock still where he stands, letting you examine the marriage bed. The wood was brought into these chambers several weeks ago, alongside a handful of master carpenters. The bed is enormous, easily large enough for three people to get a full night’s sleep without touching each other. It had been built inside of the room so that the intended dimensions could be fulfilled without the worry of actually fitting it through the door, which it would not. The sight of it makes an apprehensive shiver rock through your frame.

“You were born here,” Bakugou says gruffly, catching you by surprise. “I remember.”

You turn to face him, eyebrows raised cautiously at his decision to speak. Considering what lies before you both, the breach in his silence is appreciated, if unexpected. He’s hardly said two words to you all night; two words besides the lengthy wedding vows you’d exchanged before gods and men alike, speaking them practically into each other’s mouths in the purring, labyrinthine cadence of the Old Tongue. The metallic taste of his blood, brushed onto your tongue by his own thumb, is still nestled between your teeth, worryingly permanent.

“You remember?”

“Hardly.” Bakugou diverts his gaze from you to where your marriage bed lies, squinting his eyes as if he’s trying to remember what it had looked like more than twenty years past. “I was three.”

It shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is, given that you’d practically been raised alongside Bakugou, taken your first steps, tasted your first victories, had your first stumbles under his watchful crimson gaze. The required distance had been there, as you’d always been more of an heir than a little girl, and Bakugou had been busy with his training anyhow, but he was a steadfast part of your memories, even if he had been mostly in the blurry peripherals until the most recent years. This confession, that he had stood in the same room as your howling, bloodied form had been brought into the world, makes you feel more exposed than you already do in your thin gown.

Bakugou must take notice of how your shoulders unintentionally tense up, because his lips pull into a small frown, not one of anger, but seemingly guilt. You sigh, rolling your shoulders back and squaring yourself to face him, trying not to let your cheeks burn hot as your nipples peak under the singular layer of fabric hiding the finer details of your body from him. He’s intimidating, and both of you know it, but considering that you’re the reason you two find yourselves in this room, you think that maybe you should be the one to guide him along.

Bakugou approaches you slowly, making a noticeable effort to dull down the soldier’s swagger he normally walks with, holding your gaze with what you surmise is his best attempt to look open and mild-tempered. You notice how he pointedly avoids looking at your body, how it’s silhouetted by the candlelight and showing itself as a dark, shapely shadow in the white fabric of your gown. He’s close enough to touch now, toes only inches from yours. You’re reminded of how close you stood during the ceremony, how he had sworn to give his life for you, to you. Ānogar ānograro.

“They’re waiting,” you say quietly, eyes darting to the four servants in each corner of the room. Bakugou follows your gaze, and his frown grows deeper.

“May I speak freely?” It’s a laughable question coming from him, but it’s a kindhearted gesture, so you bite into your lip and nod your acquiesce.

“You’re my husband,” you say, trying not to feel discouraged at the pink tinge that rises to his cheeks, “I always want you to speak freely.”

Through a stiff nod of understanding, Bakugou lets a deep breath exhale through his nose before pinning you in place with a scrutinizing gaze. “Have you been…kissed, before?”

“Of course I have, Bakugou.” You can’t hide the breathless chuckle that comes fluttering from your lips, the dangerous hint of a relieved smile that begins to carve into your cheeks.

“Katsuki,” he says, the corner of his own mouth curling when his simple request for familiarity wipes the glimmer of smugness straight away from your face. “Your husband, remember?”

“Katsuki,” you repeat, letting the letters make a home for themselves on your tongue. Something flashes in his eyes, and he clears his throat. You can’t make out the shape of what’s flickered across his face, but you can feel the heat thrumming from his eyes to yours.

“What else?”

“What do you mean?” Your nose wrinkles in confusion, entirely lost on what point he’s trying to make. Katsuki narrows his eyes, clears his throat uncomfortably.

“What else do you have…experience with?”

Oh. He wants to know if you’ve been touched, where you’ve been touched, possibly even by whom. It’s your turn to shuffle your bare feet on the cold stone floor, to look solidly ahead at the v in the collar of his loose tunic, the slope of his neck, anywhere but his eyes. Your stomach begins to roil at the implication of this, of baring yourself to him wholly. It won’t be the first time you do it tonight, and certainly not the last.

“I’ve– um, done most things.” You somehow summon the courage to meet his gaze again, staring up defiantly. “I hope that’s not a disappointment to you.”

“You had no obligation to me before today.” Katsuki shakes his head, as if to dispel the very notion that you even have something to refuse to apologize for. It brings a spark of warmth to your heart, a hum of satisfaction pulsing through you that you’d chosen your husband well, at least in this regard. “But you are a virgin?”

You can’t control the way your eyes go wide, blinking hurriedly at him when he asks the question. Your fingertips grow hot, and you aren’t sure which potential answer would be the least mortifying, so you opt to stick with the truth.

“Yes,” you say, so lowly it’s near a whisper, “I’m a virgin.”

Katsuki swears quietly in the Old Tongue, and though you’re more focused on your feet than his face, you can see the awkward repositioning of his feet, how his hands clench and unclench at your confession. He’s your husband, you scold yourself, you have no need for fear. You jerk your head up to look unflinchingly at his face, unapologetic in your stance. Despite the way he had voiced his indifference to your prior experiences, you can see some strange mixture of relief, nerves, and that same undefinable heat rising to his face, coloring his features and darkening his eyes.

His eyes run over your consummation gown, long, loose, and traditional as they come, lovingly hand-stitched by your longest serving lady-in-waiting. Your handmaidens had taken the liberty of freshening you up after the feast, scrubbing most of the heavy, ash-black ceremony makeup from the bridge of your nose, wiping the kohl from your eyes until you were bare. Your elaborate wedding hairstyle had been let down and reworked into a long, singular braid down your back, loosely secured by a knot of cowhide. That, amongst other things, is for him, and only him.

“After this,” Katsuki wets his lips with his tongue, “we won’t share a bed again–”

“Katsuki–”

“Not until you’re ready,” he amends. His fingers twitch by his sides, a boyish gesture for a man of his massive stature.

“I’m your wife,” you say, puzzled and looking up at him, “I may be a virgin now, but I’m no stranger to what that entails.”

A heavy breath shakes through Katsuki’s frame, and his brows knit together in an expression of comfortingly familiar exasperation. You almost want to smile back at him.

“I expected as much,” he says, one hand reaching forward ever so slowly to brush tentatively through your fingers dangling at your side, to pinch at the thin fabric of your gown and rub it between his fingers, “but that’s a matter for the morning.”

You catch the implication in his tone, in the way he’s holding the sheet separating you from him. There’s something to be taken care of. Your palms turn clammy, fingers beginning to tremble by your sides. It takes everything in you to set your jaw and look up at him, shoulders rolled back and expression carefully schooled into something that you can only pray approaches a warm neutrality.

“Would you like to take it off?” Your eyes flit from your gown to his face.

Katsuki considers you, dragging his eyes over your frame at an agonizingly slow rate, still maddeningly rubbing that fabric between his fingers. Suddenly, his face crumples into a scowl.

“You’re shaking,” he says matter-of-factly. Your cheeks warm, wishing he wouldn’t have brought it up. “Are you nervous?”

“Not of you,” you answer him truthfully, willing the tension in your spine to melt into pleasurable anticipation. Katsuki catches your meaning instantly, the concern in his eyes glittering into something more akin to the anger that settles so comfortably into the frown lines on his face, that strikes his sharp features so suddenly and beautifully you almost gasp.

“Turn around,” he barks suddenly, his posture straightening into that of the formidable general you’ve known him as all your life, not the surprisingly gentle husband he’s shown himself to be in the last few minutes. You start in his arms, beginning to spin on your heels to follow his command when his hands catch you by the shoulders, an apology writing its way into the fine features of his face.

“But you said–”

“Them.” Katsuki jerks his head towards the servants posted in each corner who are, miraculously, turned away from the two of you, heads down and poised towards the corner. You look up to Katsuki in amazement, and his eyes soften. “I wouldn’t speak to you that way.”

“Oh.” It’s light and not enough when it falls from your mouth, and you want to apologize, but Katsuki’s already loosening his grip on your shoulders, urging you to spin.

“Now you,” he says gently, “turn around.”

Too stunned by the duality of him to argue, the whetted and wartorn angles of him contrasting with this unbearable softness, you turn your back to him, urging yourself to relax under the weight of his hands. Katsuki’s hands subtly squeeze your shoulders, as if to warn you of their departure, and the next time you feel his touch, it’s on the end of your long braid, his scarred fingers fumbling with the cowhide tie.

You hold your breath as you feel the tension along your scalp go slack; he’s gotten the tie off of your braid. Katsuki’s fingers begin to methodically comb through your long hair, starting at the bottom and working his way up, deftly avoiding knots and keeping the lightly-oiled strands from tangling themselves as he undoes your braid. He’s surprisingly good at it, and an unexpected pang of pain accompanies your curious thought as to whether he’s had much practice undoing a woman’s hair, something so sacred. Before you can ruminate on the hurt beginning to come to a simmer in your chest, Katsuki’s spinning you back around, causing the calming perfume of your hair oil to cloud around your head as your hair fans out. It centers you, gives you the wherewithal to look up into his eyes.

Katsuki’s face is candid, beautifully so, in the way he regards you. Crimson eyes dart over every feature you have to offer him, now so wild and unbidden compared to your usual state of being, and he reaches a tentative hand towards your hair, before flinching and pulling back. You shake your head, bringing a hand out to catch his and pull it back towards the part of you he so clearly wants to touch before you can think better of it. Katsuki’s eyes widen, only momentarily, before his face settles into an expression of quiet approval, and he runs his fingers through your hair again, less purposeful this time and more for the simple pleasure of memorizing the feel of you under his hands. You blink up at him, waiting.

“Gevie,” he mumbles under his breath, watching how his fingers card through your unruly hair. He mistakenly brushes your nipple, still peaked under your consummation gown, and realizes what he’s done when you gasp lightly. 

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, surprising yourself when you realize that you mean it. Your back has already begun to arch unwittingly towards him, as if your body has accepted him as your husband while your mind is still trying to wrap itself around the idea. “Touch me.”

You can see the thought cross Katsuki’s face before he even reaches for your gown, pinching it at the hips on either side of you.

“Do you want to take it off, or would you like me to?” Katsuki says, hardly louder than a whisper. You blink, still trying to marry this man with the outspoken, ruthless general you’d invited to the altar with you.

“Traditionally, the man–”

“I know,” Katsuki says, a bit of an agonized bite behind his words. You bite your lip, worried that you’ve finally overstepped, but he sighs, heavy and surrendered. “I know what happens traditionally. I don’t care. We’re doing this on your terms.”

“My terms,” you repeat slowly, trying to gather his meaning.

“Yes,” Katsuki affirms, “your terms. Now, do you want to take your gown off, or do you want me to?”

You want to run to the washroom to realign your expectations, is what you want to do. This is supposed to be quick, you remember your handmaidens preparing you with monstrous stories of being unceremoniously bent over the bed, gown ripped to shreds or simply shoved above your hips instead of carefully pulled between a considerate thumb and finger. You study him, study that freshly sincere affection on his face, his willingness to bring you through this unscathed and…dare you say it, satisfied. Your hand, which, so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed drifting, comes up to cup his sharp jaw, plush palm giving against the angle of his face.

“I want you to,” you say, nodding when his eyebrows raise in surprise. “I want you to take it off of me, please.”

Katsuki only answers you with a curt nod of his own, schooling his momentarily bewildered expression back into one of careful concentration, more for your benefit than his, you think. You can feel a slight tremor in his hands when he brings them to the strings that suffice for your gown’s sleeves, little more than strips of fabric tied in loose bows over your shoulder. Despite the painstakingly beautiful embroidery in the stiff linen, curling flames and stars rising from the hem of your gown, everything else about the design of the garment reveals its purpose: to be removed.

You hold your breath while he works at the tied strings, partly because you feel like you should and partly because the slightest brush of his fingers over your skin feels so climactic that you feel that it should make a sound, maybe that of pottery breaking or lightning clapping across a dark sky. It’s silent, the slip of the linen through itself, three cautious pulls and your gown is sagging on one side, the collar falling until your nipple is almost exposed. You gulp and try to look up to Katsuki, but his jaw is set, even grinding a bit in concentration as he keeps his gaze centered firmly on the bow he’s set upon on your right shoulder. You study him, looking for any indication that he’s anxious, or pleased, or disinterested, but he’s an unreadable mask of focus as his large fingers tug on the bow. It slides loose as easily as the first one had, and your gown slips from your body and crumples around your feet on the floor.

Katsuki sucks in a sharp inhale, forced to take in the sight of your naked body now that he’s finished his task. You watch intently as his eyes drag over every part of you, slow and savory, nostrils flaring and pupils dilating. You’re so exhilarated by his wild eyes taking you in, you almost forget to be insecure, to be nervous. This is something you might grow to enjoy, you think; Katsuki’s carefully concealed appetite.

“Am I alright?” You feel your mouth form the words, hear them float into the charged air. You don’t think you meant to ask, but once it’s out, you’re glad you did. It may be a politically-made marriage bed, but as fate would have it, your crown sits upon the head of a young woman, a young woman looking into the eyes of the man that would have her for his own, wanting to be thought of as a thing to be admired. Katsuki’s eyes flicker back to yours, and his brows knit together.

“Alright?” Katsuki’s eyes leave yours once more, and he meets his own gaze with a bold hand on your hip, thumb rubbing circles over your hipbone. “You’re more than alright, but you already know that.”

You feel so small, so silly when you tell him: “I was hoping you’d be the one to remind me.”

Katsuki understands then, meets your fixed look upon his face and lets that molten desire cool into something more digestible, easier to hold, and then he speaks. “Iksā gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

When you’d learned the Old Tongue as a child, you’d been taught to purr the sounds, to run them together like the slow, controlled flow of ink from the end of a feather. You learned to curl the consonants behind your teeth and let them breathe the same air for a beat, to birth the sounds into the world off of your tongue instead of simply pushing the air out. But when Katsuki speaks the Old Tongue it’s…a growl, forceful and quaking with restrained power. Raw and godlike, the words sound like they were written with his low rasp in mind.

Wife. His beautiful wife. Your breath hitches in your throat at the same time as a vicious swell of desire rips through you, mouth beginning to hang ajar. Katsuki frowns slightly, tilts his head.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Take me, then,” you say, breathless from your own courage. Katsuki’s eyes widen, and if you could see clearly through your own sudden lust, you’d see the corner of his mouth twitching. “Make me your wife.”

“I will,” Katsuki comes closer, speaking not smugly, but matter-of-factly. He slides one hand around your waist, thumbs at your chin with the other. “But there’s an order to these things.”

No sooner have you opened your mouth to protest Katsuki’s condescension than he’s closing the wide gap between his height and your plush, open lips, pressing his mouth to yours, and your mind goes quiet. You’ve been kissed upwards of a dozen times at this point, something you were proud to remind your ladies-in-waiting of this morning while they giggled and squealed about your big night with the general. A few princes, a handful of noblemen’s sons, the expected suspects. All your ladies had said in return was “Those are boys. The general is a man. You’ll see the difference.”

There’s nothing demanding or unkind in the way his fingers are pressing into the plush curve of your hip, but it’s firm, steady in a way you’ve never dreamed about being held. His hand spreads across your jawline, keeping you tilted up and open for him to move his mouth against. There’s none of the hurried pecking, no errant tongue forcing its way between your teeth before you can even offer– Katsuki’s a man. You understand now, understand your handmaidens’ flushed cheeks and the way they fanned themselves theorizing about whether your new husband was as ruthless in bed as he was on the battlefield. Katsuki makes a fire catch behind your ribs, a desperate urge to impress, to keep your now horrifyingly-apparent lack of experience under wraps.

You bring a hand to the back of his neck, willing yourself not to tremble, and card your fingers through the close-cropped hair, smiling when Katsuki’s lips stutter against your own. His grip on you tightens, one big hand slipping to the nape of your neck and pulling you flush against him. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting like ceremonial wine and something mannish and mature; you’re hardly able to swallow the gasp that threatens to reveal how the pit of your stomach is beginning to curl in on itself. Your breasts are pressed tight against his chest, only separated from his skin by his linen tunic. The fabric kisses your sensitive nipples, brushing against the untouched skin, and despite yourself, you whimper pathetically into his waiting mouth, cheeks warming.

Katsuki pulls back, to your disappointment, and you begin to chew at your lip, frantically thinking through the last several minutes to wonder what you’ve done wrong. Had you been too forward, touching him back so quickly? Your fretting dies down quickly when you see that Katsuki’s only stepped back to finger the hem of his tunic, ripping it over his head. You only have a moment to catch a blurry flash of honed muscle and scarred skin before he’s back on you, calloused hands wrapping around your hips. It only takes a few moments of him kissing you, of your fingers dragging absentmindedly up his veiny forearm, before you ask him for what you want, palms pressed flat against his chest and pushing lightly.

His brows knit together, and his eyes flicker over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. You take a deep inhale, hoping to hide how rapidly you’ve lost your breath to him, steeling yourself to look him in the eye.

“I want to see you.”

Katsuki’s face screws up almost comically, and he tilts his head.

“See me?”

“See you.”

You take a step back, keeping your hands on his arms, holding him just where you want him and– is it a sight. He’s sharper than you would have imagined, deep grooves carving into his skin where his muscles bulge beneath it. You suck in a sharp breath as you let your eyes move slowly from his hardened stomach to his broad chest, little nicks dotting his skin where a stray swordtip had punctured armor, and a particularly nasty gash cutting across his front, stretching from his shoulder to his ribcage. It looks like it should have been fatal. Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest, maybe in an attempt to stop you from ogling him like you are, but it’s counterproductive; all he’s done is give you a golden opportunity to watch the skin of his arms stretch to accommodate the way his biceps swell and shrink with the movement, the twitching and flexing of each individual muscle laid bare for you to see clearly.

When your gaze finally returns to his face, you almost want to snort at his expression: pink cheeks, a scrunched nose, and eyebrows lifted to indicate just how entirely unimpressed he is with your drooling.

“Done ‘seeing’ me?” Katsuki asks, mouth lifting in just the smallest hint at a smile. Your heart flutters lightly in your chest; it’s the first attempt either of you have made at humor since your betrothal, and it’s hugely relieving to have something to smile about.

“It was only fair that I take my turn,” you say, gesturing down at your bare skin. Katsuki’s lips lift a little more until his gaze lowers; his eyes darken as he lets himself take you in. You can see the same thought crossing his mind just as it occurs to you: you belong to each other now, every bit of skin, muscle, heart that you’re bearing to each other isn’t just your own anymore. That scrunch in his nose, the scar across his chest, the way he narrows his eyes to study you. It all belongs to you now.

Katsuki steps forward, letting his hand interlace with yours, fingers hanging in the spaces between your own.

“Are you ready?” His question is no more than a puff of air against your forehead, both of you mercifully standing so close that you aren’t forced to look in his eyes when he asks.

“Yes.” Your voice shakes despite your attempt to be resolute in your answer, and you tighten your fingers around his in apology. It’s all new.

Katsuki kisses you again, slower and warmer than last time. It’s not desperate or hurried, but it is sensual, a promise of what awaits you when he lays you down on your bed. You sigh into his mouth, growing comfortable now with the feel of him on you; so comfortable, even, that you don’t notice he’s been backing you up until your back hits the poster of the bed, effectively pinning you between the hard, ebony wood, and Katsuki’s strong chest.

Your confinement does something to him. It’s immeasurably minute, the way his breath seems to puff out a bit heavier, the sudden jerk of his fingers into your hips, but it’s there.

“When you said you had experience…” Katsuki says, voice gravelly and dangerously close to a pant, “what did you mean by that?”

“I–” you pause, swallowing thickly around the growing lump in your throat, “I’ve been kissed, and I’ve…been touched.” You settle on that, hoping he grasps what you’re suddenly too shy to say.

“Did he make you cum?” He asks it so quietly, you almost wonder if you’ve heard him correctly, but you do hear him, and your chest caves in on itself as the breath leaves your lungs. You’ve snickered over such things with trusted girl friends, your ladies in waiting, but to hear it so gruffly, from the lips of a man—your new husband, no less—is a shock to your system.

“I think so,” you murmur, hardly able to form the words. You can’t see him, his head hunched over your shoulder and his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, but you can practically feel him frown.

“If he had, you would know so.” Katsuki presses a soft kiss on the cartilage of your ear, travels down to bring your earlobe between his lips. He moves farther down, kissing gently down the slope of your neck, so slowly as if not to scare you.

“How would I know?” You can’t believe you’ve even dared to ask the question, not entirely sure you’ve prepared yourself well enough to hear his answer. Katsuki sucks in a sharp breath against your collarbone, pausing his ministrations where he’d begun to lick and suckle at the prominent angle of it. Your face warms as you realize how deeply his faint touches have begun to affect you, how your chest is beginning to swell and sink with heavy breaths, how your skin tingles and sparks in anticipation of the next absentminded swipe of his knuckles, of the light pressure of his mouth.

“I can show you,” he whispers, and the world stops turning for a moment, “if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you breathe out before you can think better of yourself. You trust his hands, the steady way that they graze the curve of your hip and splay out against the small of your back. He’s stable and unwavering, keeping you afloat.

Katsuki nods against your shoulder, almost imperceptibly, and brings one of those strong hands up between your shoulderblades. He spreads his fingers out, forcing your back to arch for him, and brings his free hand up to your chest, pausing when he’s only a hair’s breadth from your breast. His eyes meet yours, a concentrated divot appearing between his eyebrows as he searches your face for any signs of discomfort. You arch into his touch, surprising even yourself with your boldness, and your jaw drops a bit at the sensation of his rough palms on your soft, supple breast.

Your eagerness spurs him to action, and he bends at the waist, scattering a litter of kisses across the top of your chest. You hold your breath as he dips lower, but your attempt to remain silent fails entirely when he closes his lips around your peaked nipple. A horribly broken whimper slips from your lips, and you squirm, though whether your body’s trying to push you into or away from the wet heat of his mouth you can’t tell.

Katsuki’s mouth stretches into a ghost of a smile around your flesh, or so you think, until his teeth graze your nipple properly and a quiet cry bursts from you. He smiles fully with your breast still between his teeth. His hand holds your back firmly in its bowed position as he moves to your other breast, twisting his tongue around your nipple there and kissing gently along the fat curve of the underside. He continues his descent, grazing his lips over your stomach, and you don’t realize he’s on his knees until he’s suckling softly on your hipbone, one hand now sprawled over your stomach. Katsuki rubs his thumb over the top of the thatch of hair between your legs, almost reverently, and it makes you regain your bearings, gulping.

“W-what are you doing?” You nearly cringe at the sound of your own voice, words syrupy and thick on your tongue.

Katsuki raises a cautious eyebrow, pulling back from the slight bruise he’s begun to place upon your hipbone. He’s still moving carefully, ghosting over where he wants to touch you as a warning before pressing his skin fully to yours, unwilling to spook you just yet, but something’s quickly changing in him. His jaw ticks as he considers you, looking down on where he kneels between your legs with wide eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Katsuki asks back, looking genuinely confused. Your cheeks are aflame.

“You’re on your knees.” It sounds too simple as it leaves your mouth, an insult to your own intelligence, and you scowl in frustration, looking off to the side. The quiet chuckle between your legs snaps your attention back to Katsuki.

“I’m on my knees,” Katsuki agrees, leaning in and brushing his lips against your inner thigh, sending a full-body shudder racking through you, “for you. Do you…not like it?”

Your mind, foggy in the places you’re accustomed to using and glaringly sharp in useless departments like, for example, the way Katsuki’s eyes are glinting dangerously in the low light, struggles to find an answer for his question. You do like it, seeing this hulking, powerful man kneeling before you, tucking his chin up to the supple flesh of your thigh and blinking up at you curiously, but not for any reason that you can put your finger on.

“I didn’t say that,” you say carefully, willing your senses to come back to you. “I just…you look like you’re planning something.”

Another cutting half-smirk flashes across his face, gone as soon as it appears. “You’ve never been tasted before, have you?”

“Tasted?” You try to keep your face from showing your shock and confusion; surely he’s not about to do what you think he is. Katsuki hums an affirmative, placing another kiss to the clammy crease of your thigh and your cunt, a gasp ripping from your throat before you can stop it.

“Do you not want me to?” Katsuki tilts his head, expressionless. You try to find the answer to his question on his face, but he’s blank, leaving the decision entirely up to you. “It’ll help with the pain.”

The pain, that’s right. Soon, he would be taking you for his own, stretching your body in a new way that you’d heard the whispers about: bloody bedsheets, sore between the legs, pleading for the end. You chew into your bottom lip, considering your options.

“Do you want to?”

“I do,” Katsuki says, eyes dark and unreadable, “I want to make you feel good. But we’re doing this on–”

“My terms,” you finish for him, nodding, “I remember.”

“Good.” Katsuki nods, and you try desperately to ignore the heat that thrums through you. “So, if you don’t want it, I won’t. Simple as that.”

You think for a brief moment. Katsuki’s admitted to wanting something of you, of your body, perhaps for the first time since you’d gotten him wrapped up with you. You repeat his words over and over in your head, trying to make sense of them. I want to make you feel good.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Katsuki knits his brows.

“I want to try it,” you say, and add with a shaky exhale, “being tasted.”

If you’re not mistaken, Katsuki’s shoulders shiver between your legs, his eyes glazing over a little at your words. You feel pride ringing in your chest, seeing him uncoil, even if it’s only the slightest bit. You’d chosen correctly. Much as he did when you asked him to undress you, Katsuki nods tensely, and he moves deeper between your legs, nudging your knees apart for himself.

“It’ll feel good,” he murmurs quietly, picking up one of your legs and draping it over his shoulder, “but if you want me to stop, tell me, alright?”

You nod down at him, knowing that every bit of your nerves at being so exposed is showing all over your face. Katsuki flits his gaze down to your cunt, glistening in the candlelight and humiliatingly wet from his touch, and you can see him bite into the inside of his cheek, see his eyes flutter closed. Despite your embarrassment, you’re keen on watching, learning from him. Katsuki leans in, and his tongue slides between your wet folds, but even over your choked noise of surprise, one thing rings clear in your mind at the startling new sensation.

Katsuki groans, louder than you’ve ever heard, languid and gratified, face pressed so firmly into your center that you can already feel his shadow of stubble scratching the insides of your thighs. His hand, wrapped around the thigh over his shoulder, suddenly tightens, fingers digging into the meat of your leg much harder than he’s touched you yet. You focus on the muscles of his jaw, tensing and straining on the side of his face, while he licks into you like a man starved.

The way he eats you is such a deviation from his feather-light touches that you almost can’t believe it’s the same man, lewd noises echoing throughout the room as he suckles on something between your legs that you hadn’t even discovered properly for yourself, only swiping at it blindly in the darkest hours in your chambers. Your back curves viciously, breathy moans spilling from your lips, fingernails clawing into the ornately-carved posts of your marriage bed. Katsuki holds you tight against him, eyes hooded in bliss and mouth moving ceaselessly against you.

You’ve snuck a hand down between your legs before, rubbed shyly at the growing wetness, at the swollen skin, and experienced maybe a glimmer of the feeling that’s now glowing hot in the pit of your stomach. You would almost feel panicked at the spiraling, swooping sensation; that is, if you weren’t so wholly consumed by the white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Katsuki– I, it’s so– oh,” you trail off, losing your words as Katsuki establishes a rhythm of flicking his tongue between your legs right on that damned spot that you wish you’d known about before, maybe you could have prepared– “Oh, Katsuki, it’s– so good.”

Katsuki elicits a sound that’s closer to a snarl than anything else you can think of, tightening his iron grip into your skin. One of your hands absentmindedly fists in his hair, and before you can find the presence of mind to rip it away, he moans, openly and unashamedly, eyes screwing shut. He likes it, your foggy mind realizes, and you dig your fingers in harder, anchoring what’s left of you to the earth using the straight, sandy locks.

The heat, the sparks that are flying around every nerve ending in your body, begins to pick up an overwhelming speed, and all of the sudden, you feel like you need to kick out, to curl in on yourself, to scream so loud the windows blow out.

“Katsuki,” you say desperately, making watery, scared eyes at him. Katsuki’s brow furrows, and he only holds his pace, red eyes glaring into yours. You’re trying to warn him, but no words will form, and you can’t catch your breath, panting and clawing at his hair and almost sobbing until–

Everything peaks. A broken cry comes shooting out of your throat, your standing leg threatening to give out under you, and you writhe and twitch on Katsuki’s face, shamelessly surrendering to the most intense tidal wave of pleasure you’ve experienced in your life. From the fuzzy peripherals of your consciousness, you can hear Katsuki groaning encouragingly into your wet cunt, still dutifully moving his tongue against you and smearing the evidence of your arousal all over his cheeks. When the world comes back into focus, it’s dazzlingly harsh, your muscles weakening as soon as Katsuki’s face clears into its typical arrangement of sharp angles and hard lines.

“Oh–” you gasp, your one good knee finally buckling underneath you. Luckily, Katsuki has already begun to stand, and one of his strong arms darts out, catching you around the waist. You wish he wouldn’t look so smug.

“How do you feel?” Katsuki asks innocently enough, but even in the aftermath of that,  you don’t miss the twitching at the corner of his shining mouth, the expectant arch of his eyebrow.

“Good,” you pant, willing your cheeks to lose even a portion of their heat, “it was– fine.”

“Fine?” Katsuki’s eyebrow raises fully, disbelievingly.

“It was good,” you reaffirm, glaring at him. Katsuki grins brightly, the most light you think you’ve ever seen enter his face. It makes you blush almost as hard as the orgasm he dragged you through. Something wild and wicked flickers in your mind, and you look up at him curiously. “Do you…do you want me to do that to you?”

Katsuki’s smile drops as quickly as it came, and his cheekbones darken, a deep flush spreading over his face. You almost wonder if you’ve misstepped, upset him in some way, until you catch him palming over his pants. Your throat tightens.

“No,” he says, all the mirth drained from his face, “no, you don’t have to– no.”

“Alright,” you acquiesce, transferring your weight from Katsuki’s firm grip around your waist back to your feet, finding your legs weak and shaky beneath you. Your gaze floats over your shoulder, back to the plush sheets of your marriage bed, and Katsuki clears his throat, backing away a step so you have the room to climb into the bed, lay yourself down.

You’d expected to feel shyer, but there’s surprisingly no urge to curl in on yourself, not even Katsuki’s eyes take you in, darkening in the candlelight. The aftershocks of pleasure— white-hot, addictive pleasure he’d introduced you to— are still echoing through your limbs, and you’re just curious enough to bite back your initial trepidation. You want to know what else he has to teach you.

Katsuki begins tugging at the laces keeping his pants snug around his waist, loosening them and shooting you one final look, one last assurance. His eyebrow is cocked questioningly, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he looks a little nervous. You nod, holding a breath deep enough in your lungs that it aches, and his pants hit the floor.

You’ve seen naked men, here and there, over the course of your life, and your ladies had described enough of the act before you that you can’t find yourself shocked at the sight, but more so at the wanton aching that ricochets through your limbs, chill bumps erupting over your arms and shoulders rolling of their own accord. You don’t have much to go by, but you’re fairly sure he’s big comparatively, so hard that the tip is an angry shade of red. Katsuki climbs over you before you have much chance to look further, but the damage is done; a fresh wave of arousal courses through you, and you widen your knees to let him situate himself.

“I’m going to get you ready,” Katsuki says between chaste kisses to your lips. “Is that alright?”

“But you already–,” you feel frustrated at your own inexperience, knitting your brow at him, “I’m ready.”

“You’re not,” Katsuki assures you, and before you can bite back another retort, his battle-scarred fingers are rubbing softly through the mess between your legs, and your jaw falls slack. Katsuki’s monitoring you for any signs of unease, eyes bright and focused on your face. You’re wet enough that he’s sliding through your folds easily, meeting little resistance as he rubs tight, concentrated circles into that spot that he’d used to make you see stars earlier. “Do you trust me?”

“Mhm.” It’s all you can manage to hum an affirmative, biting back the breathy noises trying to break free of your throat. It’s a wonder, how so little effort from him has your blood molten in your veins, limbs pliant and muscles twitching.

Katsuki’s fierce gaze doesn’t let up, but you understand why when you feel it: a finger, presumably, stretching you in a new, uncomfortable way. You’re unable to contain the gasp that bleats out of you, eyes flying wide, and Katsuki’s hand stills, eyes squinting as he tries to determine the nuances of your reaction. It’s novel, and admittedly, makes you a bit restless, but it isn’t unpleasant, and embarrassingly, your hips cant up into his hand, answering for you. Katsuki works slowly, never ceasing the small circles he’s rubbing into you, letting the discomfort align with the deliberate, savory pleasure that’s now ever-present in your core. When he begins to move his finger in and out of you, working you open, you realize it feels good, more than good, even.

“Alright?” Katsuki asks, distrusting of the whimpers and shaky moans beginning to fall from your lips. “Talk to me.”

“It’s strange,” you admit, words fragile and breathy in the space between your lips, “but I like it, it feels good. Really good.”

Katsuki hums approvingly, teases your entrance with the rough pad of a second finger. He arches his eyebrow at you, the question hanging silent, but clear between you. The prospect is daunting, but you welcome it; he’s already shown you so much, made you feel so much. You trust him, nodding eagerly.

“Please.”

Katsuki works his second finger in, grinding his jaw when you choke on a moan, rolling your hips into his palm. He nods, letting you wriggle your hips around as you need to, to ease the stretch of him inside of you. You can feel the power behind the lightness of his touch, eyes flitting down to the strained, corded muscle of his forearm as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. He’s holding back, and when you think wildly of what might happen the day he doesn’t have to anymore, your body clenches around him.

Katsuki pulls a face at you, amused. “What is it?”

“What?” You pant, feeling that knot begin to tie in on itself tighter and tighter behind your bellybutton.

“Y’liked something, thought of something,” Katsuki studies you, mouth quirking up into a little half-smile, “I could feel it.”

If you were any more present, you’d be mortified, but all you can do is reach a hand to stroke along the bulge of his bicep, dig your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Was thinking about you,” you admit shyly, trying to force your words to come out a little less broken than you know you sound, “you’re strong.”

“I am strong,” Katsuki agrees, curling his fingers against something inside of you that makes you jerk, makes him smirk at you.

“You’re holding back on me.”

“I am,” he says, placing a kiss to your shoulder, “you’re not ready for it. Need to go slow this time.”

“One day you won’t,” you say, mustering all the strength your hazy mind has to offer to look him squarely in the eye, watch his reaction. Katsuki inhales sharply, eyes widening at your boldness, only to narrow at you, predatory and curious. His fingers have stilled momentarily, and you pull your stomach muscles, jerking your hips up against his hand, frustrated. Katsuki only glares down at you, jaw ticking.

“One day I won’t,” he finally answers you, pulling his fingers from where you’re throbbing and needy. You almost whine, but bite into your lip before the admission of desperation flies from you. “If that’s what you want.”

You don’t have the chance to answer before Katsuki’s sucking his own fingers into his mouth, sucking you off of them. Your jaw stutters, and you gape at him as his eyelids flutter, a low groan rumbling in his strong chest.

“Taste good,” Katsuki says, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, “sweet.”

“Can I try?” The question flies from your lips before you can even think to contain it, and your eyes grow even larger, shocked at your own debauchery. You’re seconds away from stuttering out an apology when Katsuki’s massive hand appears in front of your face, fingers glistening in the candlelight.

“Here.” Katsuki offers his fingers to you, eyes dark and hungry. You only stare at him for a moment, trying to discern if you’ve done something horribly wrong, but he’s completely sincere, brushing his wet fingers along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, suck him in. It’s more viscous than you would have imagined, sticky and thick on your tongue, but it’s pleasantly gamey; a little bitter, a little sweet. You don’t realize that you’re suckling on Katsuki’s fingers until he groans again, deep in his throat, gritting his teeth.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, pulling his hand free from your lips.

“What’d you think?” Katsuki regains his composure quickly, tilting his head at you with something impish sparkling in his eye.

You’d chosen your new husband due to his unwavering dedication to the kingdom that he’d sworn his life to protect, his kingly attributes that had set him so far apart from your other, softer suitors. You hadn’t even thought to consider what other sides to him might be lurking beneath the formidable exterior of decorated general; could it be so that the red-cheeked, boyish creature above you, so intent on helping you explore your body, was the fierce warrior that had supposedly cut down over a hundred enemy soldiers entirely on his own?

“I liked it,” you say, biting into the smile starting to grow on your face. The way his eyes light up makes you feel like a vixen, like somehow, you can be a woman after all. “Everything is…it feels good.”

Something virile glints in Katsuki’s eyes, but you don’t shy away, holding his gaze. “Good.”

“I want to…I want you to have me. I want to have you.” You’re not even sure if you’re making sense, tongue heavy and useless in your mouth. Katsuki’s hand has wandered back down between your legs, rubbing lazily at the wetness there, and it’s got that steady heat creeping back through your limbs, setting your nerves on fire.

“You’re sure?” Katsuki asks, raising his eyebrow at you. All the mischief has drained from his face as he examines you, and while you appreciate his caution, the craving for something more is growing uncomfortable.

“Please,” you say, tilting your chin up to press your lips gently to his in reassurance. Katsuki is finally convinced, it seems, because he rolls off of you and settles his back against the headboard, reaching an errant arm over to tug you on top of him.

You hadn’t anticipated this; Katsuki’s set you right on top of his hips, your dripping cunt placed firmly against his hard cock, back ramrod straight from the sudden exposure, nipples peaked in the charged air. The feel of him pressing insistently against where your body needs him most makes your head spin; you hadn’t expected it to be so distinct, hard and thick beneath you.

“What are you–”

“It’ll be easier this way,” Katsuki says, looking very much like he’s putting all his effort into appearing unaffected, but only a moment ago, you felt his hips twitch upwards into yours, “you can control it.”

“I don’t– I don’t know how to do it. Not the right way, I mean.” You’re burning in your humiliation, hot in so many different ways now you aren’t sure if you could even count them, but you’re bared completely to him, and you figure your dignity was left somewhere crumpled on the floor with your consummation gown.

“Don’t worry about that,” Katsuki says sternly, looking so unbelievably flustered that if you were any less preoccupied, it would make you giggle, “not yet. You need to get used to having something inside you, first.”

Something inside you; him, thick and hard and drooling wetness onto his bellybutton. That’s right. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, doing everything in your power to ride the wave of exhilaration going through you. You roll your hips experimentally, once, twice, swallowing the gasp that aches to leave your jaw.

“Just like that,” Katsuki mumbles, so quietly you almost think you hadn’t heard him, “take your time.”

You take his advice, bracing your clammy hands on his neck. You grind down on him again, feeling sparks of pleasure shoot up your body. With each swipe of your hips, you can feel your cunt grow wetter, feel that bottomless want in your stomach open a little more. The growing hunger in you is primordial, some hidden part of your mind directing you. The urge to have something inside of you, to feel full in a way you can’t begin to imagine, is causing you to grow restless, fingers drumming anxiously on Katsuki’s shoulders. When you meet his eyes, a muscle feathers in his jaw, but he stays silent, hands placed gently on your hips as he watches you grow accustomed to his girth, the weight of him between your legs.

“I think I’m ready. Can I?”

Katsuki stays silent, only nods sagely in assent. His grip on your hips grows tighter as you lift yourself up, reaching down blindly to grip him. He sucks in a breath when your fingers wrap around the length of him, and your eyes flit to his in alarm, but he only shakes his head, brow furrowing.

“Go ahead.”

You nod back, wincing at the anticipatory trembling of your thighs on either side of his hips, pulling his cock up from his stomach. You rather like the smooth feel of the skin in your hands, and you think briefly that maybe this will be something to revisit later, having him needy and in the palm of your hand. The swollen head catches, and you almost gasp at the surprise of it, how a dull thud of satisfaction rings through your body. You inhale deeply, and begin to sink down.

Katsuki’s fingers dig into your hips even harder, but you hardly feel it over the incomparable stretch between your legs. You’re sure now that he’s big; he has to be, the way it feels like your very insides are moving to accommodate him. You’re trying not to huff at the feeling, but a whine escapes you, and Katsuki’s tight grip stops you just as you’re nearing the halfway point.

“Okay?” He’s tense, coiled like a snake, all the muscles in his strong body locked, but his eyes are concerned.

“Uh huh,” you manage, wiggling your hips around and dropping yourself down a couple more inches, making you both gasp, “s’just big.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki hisses, throwing his head back. You pause, body contracting around him in your attempt to take him wholly, only a short distance from the blonde hair at the base of his cock.

“Is everything alright?”

“Can’t say shit like that,” Katsuki grits out, voice hoarse. You realize with a slow, muggy blink that you haven’t yet heard him swear, not in the Common Tongue, haven’t yet seen him become so unraveled and yet, at the same time, so rigid. It’s affecting him, that instinctual part of your brain supplies, it feels good for him.

If you were any less dazed, you’d smile. Katsuki Bakugou, High Commander of the fiercest army the world has seen in over a century, famed warrior an ocean over, is practically twitching trying to bite back his own pleasure as you take him inside of you. The rush of adrenaline that thought sends through you gives you the motivation to let yourself go, nestling the entirety of him deep inside yourself and meeting his hips. You choke on a moan, eyes prickling with tears.

“Oh,” you pant, lifting yourself just a bit, trying to squirm away from the discomfort.

“Does it hurt?” Katsuki grunts, eyes running over every bit of your body.

“No, it’s just,” you keen again, interrupting yourself with breathy, whiny little noises, “full.”

Katuski makes a noise that you think was meant to be a hum of agreement, but only comes out as a growl. If the white in his knuckles and the sharp, tense bone of his jaw is anything to go by, his arousal is only barely being held back, restricted to a tight leash. You’re not his first, not the only wet warmth he’s buried himself in, and this isn’t at all the first time he’s experienced this white-hot, carnal pleasure that’s licking up your veins. You find the strength to blink back the budding tears in your eyes, to really look at him.

He’s holding it together well, fingers grounded where they dig into your fleshy hips, crimson eyes looking you up and down, taking you in, but like the quiet snap of embers in the background, ruining the illusion of the room’s heat emanating from you and Katsuki, his body betrays him. His muscles are jumping under his skin, twitching involuntarily like the hide of one of the cavalry’s prize stallions, ready to run. Katsuki’s fucking a princess in his mind, you think, a future queen, and he’s proceeding accordingly, trying to keep his caresses light and his infamous temper in check.

You blink at him, vision watery, and realize suddenly that, for the first time in your life,  you want to be a hot-blooded, wild, mortal. You want only to be a woman with a man inside of her, and you want to be regarded as such.

“Still doin’ alri–” Katsuki cuts himself off with a grunt when you roll your hips, biting back a wince at the unfathomable pressure in your stomach, the depth of him snug inside you. “Wait–”

“I’m fine,” you say, surprising even yourself at your sharpness. Confidence swells in your chest as he squirms under you, kissing away the burn of how he’s worked you open.

“But–”

“Eminna skoros iksis ñuhon,” you say down to him, looking upon your new husband with hooded eyes as you grind your hips down into him, adjusting to the strange stretch that accompanies his body inside of yours. Each movement of your hips into his makes it easier, soothes the slow throb of your body trying to make room for him. Pleasure begins to ignite again along your fingertips, and when you scoot forward a bit, pushing your hips back, his cock nudges something inside of you that makes your jaw drop.

Katsuki’s eyes widen momentarily, but you can see the moment he loosens the leash, succumbs to his baser instincts. His grip on your hips loosens, shoulders slackening, and his eyes darken, lids dropping a bit just to cover the tops of those crimson irises. He’s beautiful, godlike even, planes of hardened muscle at your command, the flames from the candles reflected in his eyes. Katsuki drags his gaze over you, nostrils flaring, bringing one hand up to the back of your neck and pulling you to him, pressing your foreheads together. The shift in him makes you gasp; the calm force with which he chooses to exert his strength.

“Lo emilā nyke, emagon nyke,” Katsuki says against your lips, all trepidation gone. You shudder in his arms, letting pleasure wrack down your spine like fire catching. “Yn eminna ao, hae sȳrī, dārilaros.”

Your blood sings at the low purr of the Old Tongue, poured into your mouth like a fine wine, but you curdle at Dārilaros. Princess. “Eman daor pāletilla skori iksā iemnȳ yno. Iksan iā ābra, iksan aōha ābrazȳrys.”

Katsuki nearly snarls, swears under his breath. “What did I tell you about saying shit like that?”

“You call me your wife,” you say, thoroughly pleased with yourself at his rapid unraveling. It’s never been like you not to have the upper hand. “Treat me as your wife.”

Even a hair’s breadth away from his face, you can see Katsuki’s last shreds of honor, that warrior’s heart, dying out. His eyes flicker over your face as you fruitlessly roll your hips, not able to get to the full extent of your pleasure with him gripping you so tightly. For the first time, you can feel his hands tremble against your skin. He’s only steps away from joining you in your damning mortality, finding the raw, primal humanity deep down inside of him. You rut your hips at him again, useless against his resolute grasp.

“Please,” you sigh against him, not even thinking to be ashamed of the breathy, needy plea you let out, not even wholly sure of what you’re begging him for, “make me feel good again.”

Katsuki groans, low in his chest, and nods, a covenant you’re building in the hot air between your mouths. His hands grab into your hips more fully, and he lifts you, only part of the way, before sliding you back down the length of him. You gasp into his mouth, caught off guard by the punch of him back up into the space he’s carved out for himself. It feels like he’s in your lungs, your breath coming out labored and pinched.

“Move,” Katsuki commands, settling back a bit and forcing you to sit up straight, hands on your ribcage. You’re bared completely to him again, and it’s still horrible, but the arousal dims any humiliation that threatens to rise. “Move.”

You wiggle your hips again, moving shakily along his cock, but Katsuki’s not pleased, evidently, as he digs his hands back into your hips.

“Like this,” he says, using his iron grip on you to correct your movements. Katsuki drags you up and down his cock in smooth, fluid motions, and despite the slowly-easing discomfort, your nerve endings come alight, the molten want finding a new peak as he rips a moan out of your throat.

“Oh–”

“Better?” Katsuki huffs, a vicious grin cutting across his face. Your arms flail a bit as he moves you, rolling you along his length as if you’re nothing more than a doll to him. Katsuki notices your awkwardness, takes one of your hands and places it firmly on your breast. You follow his lead, thumbing gently over one hard nipple, and, at the jolt of pleasure, you quickly bring your free hand to match on the other side, letting your head fall back.

“Katsuki,” you pant, quickly losing your composure and falling victim to the sensations devouring you, “it’s– that’s so good.”

“I know,” Katsuki breathes, still pulling you this way and that, “you’re perfect, so soft around me.”

You’ve never gotten to be soft; iron princess on the iron throne, made of embers and scalding steam, but for him? You bloom, pretty as a petal, letting your body meld into his like it was always supposed to be here. You’re not soft like silk, you let yourself be soft like candlelight, like magma, like the crashing of the ocean when you’re far enough away that the waves won’t get you, drag you under. Soft like doom.

“I feel– fuck, I think I– I need more.”

Katsuki’s lips twist at the breathless curse that flies from your lips, so foreign and funny-sounding in your regal mouth. You want to tease him right back, but he slides you off of him, and the loss is so devastating, your bottom lip nearly juts out as it did when you were a child. Before you can protest too much, Katsuki’s laying you on your back, hands sliding along your thighs, and you follow your instincts and bring your legs up to wrap around his waist.

“If it’s too much…” Katsuki trails off, losing his words when he goes to brush your bottom lip with his thumb and you suck him in voraciously, nibbling on his finger.

“I’ll tell you,” you promise, spitting him out and letting your own hand flutter across his cheekbone. He’s almost glaring down at you; so intense is the desire in his eyes that a small part of you wants to shy away, but you don’t. You wiggle your legs that much wider, arch your back, lean into the burn of him. You were born for the heat.

Katuski’s mouth quirks up in a little smile, already so fond it makes your chest ache, and he slides back into you, groaning when your cunt sucks him in greedily. You try to embrace the novelty of it, the dull throb of his cock splitting you wide, digging your nails into his arm by mistake. Katsuki swears in surprise, and you jerk your hand away, until he looks down at you admonishingly.

“Go ahead, perzītsos,” he hums, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your hairline, “I won’t break.”

He pulls back and thrusts back into you, harder than you’d expected, and your nails return to his wrist beside your head, digging half-moons into the pale skin. He’s different from this angle, not so agonizingly deep in you, but nudging against something inside you that renders you incapacitated, fuzzy-minded and pliant in his arms. Katsuki’s not faring any better than you, eyes hooded and little grunts slipping from his lips each time his hips connect with yours.

“What does it feel like?” Katsuki asks, beginning to look out of his mind with need. “Ivestragon nyke.”

“Deep,” you choke out, letting your jaw drop when he leans down to lick into your mouth, “full, I feel– full.”

“Good,” Katsuki mumbles, “good. Doesn’t hurt?”

“No.”

In answer, Katsuki moves his hips faster, snapping them against you with brute force. He’s keeping that ever-cognizant eye on you, monitoring you for any indication of pain or panic, but even through the haze of the tightening knot in the pit of your stomach, you can see him tumbling over the same edge that you have, lost to your baser instincts. You’re soft to him, your warm walls hugging him snug as he chases an end for you both, but sharp in the way your fingers claw into his skin, your teeth nip into his shoulder. Mine. Mine. Ñuhon.

“Katsuki,” you warn him, the balloon of pressure welling in your belly, growing so large you feel as though you might choke on it.

“I know,” he says, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. His voice is broken and ragged and tastes like hot coals, like copper and bronze and prophecy. You drink him down eagerly, so out of your mind with want that you’ve transformed. You’d entered the room as a blushing virgin of the highest, most noble bloodline, and here you are, twisting and keening under him, all molten limbs and whorish pants. Sweat dapples your forehead, drool smeared over your chin, and you’ve never felt more beautiful.

“I’m so– it’s the, the same,” you gasp, familiar words devolving into nonsense, “but it’s not enough, I don’t, I–”

“Here,” Katsuki growls, closing one strong fist around your wrist and sliding your arm between your writhing bodies, “just like I did it, remember?”

You find the same sensitive spot that Katsuki had shown you quickly, swollen and raw with pleasure, and try rubbing shaky circles over it, try to maintain some semblance of a rhythm and imitate his earlier movements. It’s uneven and inconsistent, but the added stimulation rockets through you, and your back pulls taut as a bow, arching off the featherbed.

“Close?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still not grasping what you’re close to, but feeling very much as though you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, that same rushing building in your ears. You somehow had the presence of mind to register that what’s building inside of you now is different than it was with his mouth between your legs; it’s faster, wetter, fuller, and it feels like it’s choking you.

“Come on,” Katsuki urges you, bordering on a snarl as he pants desperately into your mouth, “want to feel you cum around me, feel this little cunt milkin’ my cock.”

“Kat–” you try to call out for him, so overwhelmed the edges of your vision are going dark. He’s grinding his hips into you forcefully, pinning your fingers to the apex of your cunt, forcing you to rub yourself harder. 

“You can do it, raqiarzy, come on–”

You cut him off with a loud sob of his name, thighs caging him in and the innermost walls of your body clamping down on him. Light bursts behind your eyelids, the white-hot flames of dragonfire and the embers of a burning forest exploding as your body is racked with wave after wave of bliss. Katsuki’s skin breaks under your fingernails, the slight dampness of tearing flesh familiar even in the haze of your orgasm. He works you through it, driving his hips into you despite the vicious tightening of your cunt around him, whispering affirmations into the pallid skin of your shoulder. Every muscle in your body contracts painfully, and you’d feel ashamed of the sounds escaping you if you could find enough wherewithal to care.

“Close,” Katsuki grits out, rolling his hips into your still-contracting cunt as your high begins to dwindle, “you ready for me?”

“Uh-huh, please, I– yes,” you babble nonsensically, interlocked ankles bouncing at the small of his back. As your orgasm drains from your veins, your muscles go lax, zapped of the fervent energy that had overtaken you. You find your body to be pliant and receptive, but your mind solely focused on watching that same ethereal pleasure that had possessed you wash over Katsuki. “Yes, I w-want you to cum.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki swears, hips stuttering, “take it, take it all–”

A guttural groan accompanies a sticky warmth flooding your insides; you squirm in his tight grip and moan at the sensation of being filled, feeling a fresh rush of arousal flow through you as you feel his cock twitching inside of you. You bite deep into his shoulder to muffle the pathetic mewls slipping from you at the feel of both his and your cum leaking out of your body, pooling in a little puddle underneath you. Everything is so earthy and musky; Katsuki’s salty skin between your teeth, his bruising grip into your hips, the stink of sex and sweat permeating the bedsheets.

Katsuki’s chest heaves against yours as his hips rock into you one last time, the thatch of blond hair at the base of him pressing against where you’re swollen and achy hard enough to make you whimper. When you wriggle around underneath him, he seems to snap back into himself, propping his upper body up on his elbows and bringing a hand to your face, thumbing over the arch of your cheekbone.

“Y’alright?” His carmine eyes are still glazed over, words gummy between his teeth, but the tenderness of his hand as he strokes your cheek lets you know he’s there.

“I’m alright,” you say, and you mean it. Something so deep in you that you don’t even have a name for is throbbing, and your body is still clenching and fluttering around where he’s softening inside of you, but your limbs are heavy and your head is in the clouds.

He’s a sight to see, a sight you commit to memory; sweat glistens on his pale skin, his eyes are hooded and sleepy, and a contented, lazy grin is starting to tug at the corner of his mouth. Katsuki pulls his hips back, pressing his lips to your temple in apology when you murmur something unintelligible, but hinting at discontent. You feel empty in a way you had never known you were supposed to, not until you’d learned what it meant to be fulfilled.

“Anything hurt?”

You shake your head, not sure how to verbalize that you’re not feeling any pain, but a deep-seated satiation that hints to the fact that you might never be able to lift yourself from the bed again. Katsuki’s still caging you in, heavy body crushing yours, when a jarringly unwelcome sound floats over his shoulder.

“Ah, um– Princess? I need to confirm–”

“I know,” Katsuki, sliding back into the skin of a general with ease, growls over his shoulder, “that you’re not daring to speak to my wife while she’s naked underneath me.”

Even given everything, your cheeks flare, and you shove at Katsuki weakly, making apologetic eyes at the attendant despite your humiliation. “It’s his job, Katsuki–”

“They can’t send a woman for this shit?” Katsuki cages you in even further, glaring at the servant who’s nearly shaking in his slippers. “Well?”

“I–I can fetch a female servant to confirm the consummation of the–”

“Do that, then.” The attendant’s soft footsteps as he scuttles away are hardly overshadowed by your breathy, tired giggles.

“You didn’t have to terrorize the poor man,” you swat lightly at Katsuki’s chest, “it’s his duty to confirm that the marriage has been consummated. The priests won’t have it any other way.”

“I’m sure he heard enough,” Katsuki grumbles, flopping onto his back beside you. He opens one eye, notices the sheet dragging dangerously close to your nipple, and tugs it up to your chin, closing his eye again and humming contentedly. His arm pauses for a moment, like he wants to stretch it over your shoulders, but he pulls it back by his own side, thinking better of it. You aren’t sure if you want to be held, if the intimacy outside of your duty as his new wife will be too grating against your already-raw nerves.

“My ladies will be here soon,” you say quietly, “to bathe me and help me prepare for bed.”

“Figured,” Katsuki grumbles, sounding entirely displeased at more people disrupting your peace. Something about it warms your heart, some small part of your mind hoping that his displeasure is rooted in a desire to keep you all to himself, hidden beneath the sheets.

“Your own attendants shouldn’t be far behind.”

“My what?” Katsuki sits up on one elbow again, looks down at you disbelievingly. “I don’t need any…ladies.”

“You’ll get used to them,” you tell him offhandedly, wondering if you’re being truthful. You’re just beginning to get acquainted with the intricacies of the man behind the title, but the general seems fiercely independent to you, and the image of him getting his hair scrubbed by a flock of servants is enough to make you chuckle to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you assure him, “I’m sure you’ll be a perfect royal specimen.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow in irritation. “You didn’t inform me that ladies would be a part of my duties.”

“We can get men!”

“That’s worse.” Katsuki’s face screws up in an ugly scowl that makes you laugh outright. The lightness of your laughter makes his face fall a little, the hardened exterior giving way to the same man that had kissed reverently up the inside of your thigh, had been so achingly gentle with you when you weren’t sure what you would need to get through the night. A man you think you could love.

You look into each other’s eyes, something like starlight, like candlelight, like true, gods-given warmth buzzing between you, when the door creaks open, a gaggle of ladies and one priestess entering the room. Katsuki groans, tugs the blankets even further up your chests, the moment broken.

Ignoring his grumbles of protest, you pull yourself from the blankets with ease, baring your nude body to your ladies. There’s no shame in front of these women who have raised you, much to Katsuki’s astonishment. You don’t miss the way their eyes catch on the purple blooms on your hipbones, the way they squeal with excitement when you lay back and spread your legs for the priestess, displaying the thin trickle of Katsuki’s seed still steadily leaking from you. The priestess nods solemnly and leaves in the same manner; at least that’s done.

Your ladies do an absolutely dismal job of trying to appear subtle as they stare at Katsuki’s still-heaving chest, his narrowed eyes darting around the room suspiciously, his round biceps– your closest lady, Alanna, whisper-squeals in your ear about how huge your new husband’s arms are, and you have to pinch her cheek harshly to get her to stop, sensing Katsuki’s tangible discomfort from across the room. He behaves well as they bathe you, sitting up in bed and watching silently as you’re preened and fawned over, as your tangled hair has a brush torn through it and is twisted neatly into your nighttime braid.

A group of women hovering silently by the door, eyeing Katsuki nervously, appear to be his newly-appointed handmaids. You do both Katsuki and the women the favor of dismissing them for the night, unsure of how Katsuki, who is still gripping the sheets to his chest like a young, blushing maiden, will react to being pampered and scrubbed by foreign hands. 

“You can dismiss those serving girls for good,” Katsuki says gruffly, clean and ambling over to a looking glass to swipe a brush through his hair. “‘M not a boy, I don’t need any help getting myself to bed.”

You conveniently slide past the omission on the tip of your tongue– before Katsuki’s anxious staff had left, you had requested them to bring a hot bath, all of Katsuki’s bathing things from his old chamber, a freshly-dried sponge from the Narrow Sea for him to wash himself with. It’s enough to keep it to yourself, seeing how content he is in his new living space now, that you could do something for him amongst the chaos you’ve now thrown his life into.

“We’ll see,” you hum, picking at a stray cuticle over the covers and trying not to ogle him too obviously.

He’s still blessedly nude, unabashed in his swagger around the room as he dries himself with the strips of soft, woven cloth your ladies had left behind per your request. When he approaches the bed you’re laying in, you stiffen, unaccustomed still to these small intimacies. Royalty has proven to be a lengthy and lonely existence in your experience, and sharing it with someone is foreign to your solitary nature. Your own parents had had their own separate chambers, as every monarch before them. It was Katsuki’s one condition to accepting your proposal; you were to share bedchambers, like a common husband and wife.

“Princess?” Katsuki is hesitant when he approaches you, as if he already senses your trepidation. You will yourself to unclench your muscles, to relax your shoulders. You have no right to make him feel unwelcome in his own bed– the bed you now share.

“I told you I don’t want you to call me that.” You try to offer him a playful smile, but it only glimmers across your face. This is yet another bridge you need his guidance over.

“You did,” Katsuki nods sagely, the corner of his mouth twitching as he remembers the circumstance of that particular conversation, “I’m sorry, perzītsos.”

“Come to bed.”

“Are you sure?” Katsuki cocks an eyebrow at you, looking down at the huge bed warily.

“It was what you wanted.”

“Only if you want it.” Katsuki sighs deeply at your look of not-quite-belief and sits on the bed a respectable distance away from you. He reaches for your hand, a question, not a demand, and you slide your fingers into his calloused palm, humming contentedly when he runs his large thumb over your knuckles. He stays like that for a moment, contemplative and looking at your hand, bare of all of its usual finery and rings. “What did I say earlier?”

“When?”

“Before.” Katsuki raises his eyebrows enough that you catch his meaning.

“That we were doing things on my terms.” Something in your chest, warm and wet and laden with flowers, swells big and tight enough to pop.

“That didn’t just apply to, ah, earlier,” Katsuki coughs uncomfortably, flicking his eyes up to you, “that’s for all of this. Our…our lives are…the same now, and I don’t want you to think I need you– seven hells, that’s not what I meant–”

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” You interrupt him suddenly, a saccharine smile curling the corner of your lips. Katsuki flushes a vicious red, frowns and shakes his head in confirmation. “Neither am I.”

“No?”

“I haven’t suddenly found myself married before, so no.” It feels silly, all of the sudden, to have guarded yourself at all. Katsuki is many things, but above all, he is steady, a resolute rock against an angry ocean. “But while I feel many things about our…unexpected union, one thing I do not feel is alone. We can do this on our terms, not just mine.”

Katsuki nods again, looks back down to your hand in his, and cracks a wry smile. “This is why you’re the politician.”

“I’m a princess,” you deadpan, “not a politician.”

“But I can’t call you that,” Katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes. The lightheartedness lifts the atmosphere in your bedchamber, oppressive with marital expectations and the stuffy heat of candles left burning too long, and it gives you the needed weightlessness to have your eyes slowly blinking closed.

“Exactly,” you agree matter-of-factly, stifling a yawn. “Will you call someone in to dispose of the candles?”

Katsuki snorts, pushing himself off the bed without answer. Before you can protest or feel hurt by his sudden abandonment, he crosses the room and bends at the waist, blowing out one of over two dozen candles. You can only watch in growing fondness and amusement as he huffs at each little flame, the room growing darker by the moment. By the time he’s finished, your eyes are hardly open, drifting shut as you sink into the pillows. A satisfied throb echoes through your body as you wriggle down beneath the sheets, the lingering evidence of Katsuki’s presence on and in you bringing a warmth to your cheeks even in the now-dark room.

The last thing you register as you slip into the beginnings of a heavy sleep is the dip of the bed behind you, and a thick, muscled forearm creeping stealthily over your waist.

“This alright?”

All you can muster is a tired mumble of acquiesce, nuzzling into the firm chest behind you. Katsuki chuckles quietly into your hair, a dark, soothing sound that has your mind careening towards sleep, eager to melt into this world of warmth and comfort in his arms.

“Ēdrū sȳrī, ñuha perzītsos.”

───── ⋆⋅ 𖤓 ⋅⋆ ─────

as promised, high valyrian translations here :)

Ānogar ānograro = "Blood of my blood."

Gevie = "Beautiful"

Iksā gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys. = "You are beautiful, my wife."

Eminna skoros iksis ñuhon. = "I will have what is mine."

Lo emilā nyke, emagon nyke, yn eminna ao, hae sȳrī, dārilaros. = "If you will have me, then have me, but I will have you as well, princess."

Eman daor pāletilla skori iksā iemnȳ yno. Iksan iā ābra, iksan aōha ābrazȳrys. = "I have no crown when you are inside me. I am a woman, I am your wife."

Perzītsos = "Little flame"

Ivestragon nyke. = "Tell me."

Raqiarzy = "Beloved"

Ēdrū sȳrī, ñuha perzītsos. = "Sleep tight, my little flame."

[reginnaofallwaters]

☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL

duckin' (boothill x gn!reader)

tw: none

additional: hint of forbidden love, a lot of censored cursing tbh

a/n: i'll proofread this when i wake up lol. i just had an idea and i needed to do word vomit before i forget all of it <//3 anyway hi :)

A relationship between human and cyborg.. How did that even work?

That was the question you always heard when the people of your planet met your boyfriend.

Granted, cyborgs were, in a way, still human. Not completely for sure, but still human. They had human feelings, human desires, human minds. It just so happened they had a body of steel and metal. There was no denying, however, that cyborgs felt.. a little inhuman sometimes. Their bodies was one such example, the steel often glinting underneath the light. Often times, they had.. "unique" features that weren't present in normal humans. Some had retractable arms, extended legs, and even extended—

Let's not go there.

Point is— cyborgs weren't quite human. Their unique features would make regular humans fear them. But, hey, this was the whole damn universe, of course there'll be the occasional weirdo or two with the sheer amount of planets that littered the whole, wide galaxy (I mean, Planet Screwllum literally exists), but that's to be expected.

Anyway, where were we? Right. Unique features.

For one, your boyfriend, a cyborg named Boothill, had this fun, little tech embedded in him called the Synesthesia Beacon. It was a translator device that allowed one's thoughts and consciousness into a language the receiver could understand. In this case— you.

Oh, and it was so, so hilarious.

And it also just happened that someone tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon (Aeons knew who but a part of you thanks them for it). As thus, any fun curse words he wished to say were basically censored.

"That fudging idiot!" Boothill hissed lowly under his breath. "Can't forking believe that someone messed around with my Synesthesia Beacon. How the heck did they manage to do that anyway?"

You bit back a laugh and attempted for a gentle smile to hide your smirk. That obviously failed with the way Boothill shot you a warning glare.

"Ya sure ya weren't behind this, darlin'?" He plopped himself onto the seat next to you, cold, mechanical arms immediately wrapping around your waist like it belonged there. The thought made you a little happy. Just a little, of course. "Maybe ya did this to mess with me, hm?"

"I would never," you retorted with a chuckle. "I can't even trust myself with tinkering with elaborate machinery or whatnot, what made you think I'd have the balls to mess yours up?"

"Hah. Fair enough," he replied. "Still. Look at me. I sound like a character from those duckin' kid shows."

Boothill's face contorted, an unpleasant sneer forming on his lips at the realization that a simple 'damn' got censored too. God, that expression was hilarious.

"Pfft—" You really, really couldn't hold it back for much longer— "Duckin', huh?"

"Sweetheart, ya know I love ya, so spare me the laughin' and just don't for the love of frills— The fork?! Frills? Frills? Are you friggin kiddin' me right now? That friggin' son of a birch, I swear."

You laughed silently as he continued to rant on (Read: Attempt to cuss) with no end. You shifted in your place to face him, gently removing his grip on your waist. Once you've faced him, you gently cupped his cheeks, eyebrow raised.

Boothill stopped.

You always had that effect on him. One simple touch was all it took to rid him of all of his anger. It didn't matter whatever shit he was worrying about, the moment you touched him with a knowing glint in your eye, he immediately went quiet each time. His shoulders relaxed, obsidian eyes softening, and the deep frown on his face easing into a neutral line.

"You calmed down much more quicker this time," you hummed, thumb gently tracing his cheek. "Color me surprised."

"Duh, because it's ya, sweetheart," he murmured in reply, nuzzling further into your touch. "Don't know how ya do it, but ya always make me feel calm. I like it."

You didn't reply this time, your other hand reaching out to remove the hat atop of Boothill's head and placing it aside. Your fingers threaded itselves through his long, black and white locks, brushing aside the occasional tangle. His hair wasn't soft and perfect by any means but.. you didn't mind.

You still recalled the way your friends and family were.. rather concerned for you once they learned of your relationship with Boothill. In your planet, cyborgs, mechanical, and inorganic life forms weren't exactly welcome. It was taboo to even interact with one. Yet, you went ahead and got yourself a cyborg boyfriend anyway. Of course, they would be concerned.

Putting his whole "cyborg" origin aside, Boothill's personality and position as a Galaxy Ranger was something to.. definitely worry about. Galaxy Rangers were known for being lone travellers throughout the universe. Rarely do they travel in groups unless subduing an evil that a Ranger couldn't deal on their own. Wouldn't you be just abandoned? Be neglected? Those were the words of your loved ones.

Boothill wasn't like that in the slightest. Despite his outgoing and unrestrained personality, he made sure to never leave you alone for too long. Made you sure were happy first and foremost. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't him doing his best enough?

As you gaze into his eyes, you smiled again.

Yes. It was definitely enough.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said in turn. "Too duckin' much."

"..Pfft. Duckin'."

"I take it back. I don't love ya anymore."

"Hey!"

So, how did a relationship between a human and a cyborg work?

You don't know. It just did. To your planet, it was a taboo. To you, it felt right. It didn't matter to you one bit. In the end, Boothill being a cyborg did not matter.

And wasn't the most important thing here was love? You love him. He loves you.

That alone was enough.

[thydungeongal]

D&D 5e being poorly designed issue #499:

Flesh to Stone requires three failed constitution saves to actually petrify anything, and even then requires ten rounds of concentration to make it last longer than a minute. Constitution is the most common save to have a bonus in in this system, and since it is a sixth level spell, this bonus tends to be quite high. As a result, this spell pretty much never actually does what it is billed as doing.

If the target does make their saves, this effectively translates into 3-5 rounds of a single target being restrained, at the cost of a sixth level spell slot and concentration.

The web spell, meanwhile, creates an area of effect in which any creatures that fail their dexterity saves are restrained. Dexterity saves are pretty common, but they have to keep making them as long as they're in the webs, and it's a strength check (rather than a save, so usually a lower bonus!) to escape. The spell requires concentration, but the maximum duration is an hour.

That's right. Web is objectively and unambiguously better than Flesh to Stone, despite being four spell levels lower. This is because the people making 5e wanted to get rid of save-or-suck effects, but didn't want to get rid of the spell names, and so nerfed them all to the point of uselessness. There is no use case for Flesh to Stone that would not be better served by Web or some other, notably lower than sixth level spell. You could cast Web with that sixth level slot, and it'd be a waste of resources, but it would still be less of a waste than Flesh to Stone, because it lasts longer, is slightly harder to resist, and can affect more than just one creature.

This is your game design on nostalgia and self-reference.

Yeah there's a lot of weird and conflicting ideas going on with spells in D&D 5e because they really lacked a coherent set of design goals: the designers seemed to have lacked a clear consensus on whether they wanted the game to be a balanced (albeit tipped in the player characters' favor) tactical combat game like 4e or an old-school experience with lots of nasty save or die effects. Part of the issue is that at an early point in the design process they decided not to take 4e's lead on monsters effectively having their own unique spells and spell-like abilities, and instead decided that the same spell lists should be available to both monsters and player characters.

And as anyone who's played 3e will tell you, when spells are as readily available and effortless to use as in Hasbro D&D and both sides have save or death spells available, it leads to rocket tag. And rocket tag is really not conducive to a fun tactical combat game that is supposed to be slightly tipped in the player characters' favor.

(Rocket tag is also the name of the game at higher levels in TSR editions of D&D and I feel it does harmonize better with the sheer amount of "fuck you" design in those editions. I think the assumptions written into the rules that combat isn't supposed to be fair or fun affects that very much.)

Anyway, so it's not just pure nostalgia, it's a combination of nostalgia while at the same time trying to copy D&D 4e's homework but not understanding the assignment. The biggest issue with D&D 5e in the context of all the various editions of D&D is that it had the benefit of more than thirty years of design and still ended up without a clear set of design goals besides "let's make the game that's the most D&D!" Like, ultimately as a dungeon game it's fine, but given the context of what's come before it should've been great.