#finally the self indulgent stuff i was talking about the other day

[midnightfrappe]

it was a really cold day and i was making this at almost 3 am in hopes to not wake up shivering the next day

[skishie]

Airphone.. im so normal about them

[mydearesthrry]

casual - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent because i will never get over the fact that half of this happened to me literally verbatim because im a loser ok bye. this is my way of coping enjoy please i got so carried away ugh the impact of a british man hahaha. i suggest casual by chappell roan or …what are we? by lizzy mcalpine

wc: im guessing 1k>

warnings: angst thats really it harry’s lowkey a cunt but its not him ok. THIS IS FRAT BOY HARRY FOR THIS ONE!!!

y/n was startled to see her front door swing open, harry stepping into the threshold to get away from the cold air outside. “hi baby.”

“hey, h,” she replied, stepping up from her place on the couch to meet him where he was toeing off his shoes. “how was your day?”

y/n’s hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, pushing his coat off his figure and hooking it on the coatrack. “it was okay, how was yours?”

“fine, thank you,” she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “tired, i guess.”

“that’s not good, princess, you need to get your sleep. can’t have my pretty girl all sleepy, hm?” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the girl and pressing a kiss into her temple.

“yeah, just had a lot on my mind recently, i guess.” she says through a sigh, unwrapping harry’s arms from her body, walking away from him toward the kitchen.

“like what?” harry questioned, following behind her like a puppy.

“i… nothing, it’s not important,” she considered it. she really did. but it just… she couldn’t find it in herself to ruin what they had so easily. to ruin them so easily. “don’t worry about me, really.”

harry physically recoiled as if he’d been burnt, “i want to worry about you, y/n. i want you to be okay, always.” he’d used her real name— a true indication that she’d offended him.

“i- i know, i’m sorry. i jus’ don’t wanna bother you with my stupid stuff.” she glanced up at him through her lashes, refusing to make eye contact.

“it it has to do with you, it’s not stupid. now, tell me, princess, what’s wrong?” he tried once more. he could tell that she was getting closer to telling him the truth, he just needed to coax it out of her.

“can we sit?” she asked, harry immediately nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her over.

“so, what’s on your mind?”

“i’m scared to tell you.”

harry looked confused then. “why?”

“because… if you don’t know, and i don’t know, then it doesn’t make sense for this to keep happening,” she paused. “and i don’t want to lose you.”

“wait, what are we even talking about? lose me? why would you lose m-“

“you confuse me.” that’s definitely one way to put it.

“what?” harry tilted his head, his hand still covering hers.

“i- it’s just, sometimes i really can’t tell if you want me, or if you’re just keeping me around just to keep me around. like, sometimes you treat me so platonically it confuses me, and then other times you’re rattling off how i’m the only one for you. i know we said no strings, i know, but i know you don’t really see me as a friend. there’s no way that this is just casual, harry.”

harry didn’t know what to say. staring down at their intertwined hands, he cleared his throat and bit at his lip.

“what is it, please just tell me what’s on your mind,” y/n pleaded, squeezing his hands.

“i… honestly don’t know, my love, im sorry,” he finally said, but he chose to twist the knife. “i don’t know what we are.”

oh.

oh.

“oh, um,” she whispered, sliding her legs off of harry’s knees, withdrawing her hands from his grasp to slide under her thighs. “yeah, i… i didn’t think you would.”

“i’m sorry, princess. you won’t lose me though, y’do know that, right?” he could sense her sadness like it was his own. his phone ringing distracted her from her thoughts, the name reading ‘Claire’, making a scoff leave her lips.

“go handle business, i’ll be upstairs.” y/n said coolly, standing from the couch once more. as she began her trek to the stairs, harry grabbed her wrist.

“don’t be like that.” he grumbled, pressing the pressure point between her thumb and pointer finger.

“be like what? i’m gonna go take a nap, didn’t you just tell me to get some rest?” she smiled, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

not exclusive, more than friends, less than lovers. how could she be so naive?

“are you sure?”

“your phone’s still ringing.”

“that’s unimportant. are you okay?”

“peachy.”

he knew she was lying. he just didn’t know what she wanted to hear.

“okay, pretty girl, dream of me, yeah?”

“mhm. see you later, lock the door if you leave.”

“i will, i’m sorry.”

as she walked away, she could hear his voice fill the living room.

“hey angel, i’ll be there in 20.”

more than friends, less than lovers.

—

part 2

[antidesire]

your older boyfriend is just soo considerate ♡

disclaimer.. age gap relationship, re6/vendetta leon so 37+, reader is 21+, first part is fluff, other part.. size kink, like a big one, calls reader small/tiny, hint of dacryphilia, he likes taking care of you, it feeds his ego, roughness, spitting, choking, manhandling, this is so self indulgent don’t even talk to me, just jumbled headcanons about size kink w older bf leon

reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open

leon would spend hours upon hours, way into the early morning listening to your worries and woes, how your job was stressing you out, how you are convinced that one professor is failing you on purpose, or how your friends had gone quiet on you suddenly. any little worry he would reassure away alongside a firm kiss on your forehead.

you admired him so very much, if he couldn't see you had the biggest heart eyes for him then he was a fool. every little thing he did, all his silly little habits had your heart bursting at the seams.

he would encourage you over the smallest of things,

oh you learned a neat new hobby? that's great, leon wants to hear every little detail on what it's about and how far you've gotten with it.

you've worked so hard this week? you need a little treat, he's giving you his card for the day.

got out of bed today despite struggling? you're spending the entire night in his arms, you want a massage? head rub? shoulder to cry on? you get it all. you're the most important thing to him.

he'd showed up at your college/university to pick you up early, and it was lunch time so he caught a lot of attention. "leonnn!" you called out ever so sweetly, quickly rushing over to your boyfriend in the parking lot, admiring your cute little outfit you adorned yourself in today, "y'wanna meet some of my friends?"

you had done nothing but gush about this man to all of your friends, and when they finally met him, they understood, they more then understood, some of them were evidently jealous.

you'd never have to lift a finger with him around, he spoiled you rotten.

okay sappy stuff over, i wanna fuck this old man

he's just soo considerate.. ♡

that you don't even realize his presence until he is pressed against your ass, plucking your purposefully placed by him favourite glass down from the top shelf, his other hand swiftly finding place under your shirt, warm fingertips pinching the soft flesh of your hip.

"you're too small, you'll hurt yourself." he'd scold you, lips attaching to your neck, laying fleeting kisses there which got your breath heavy as your hands gripped onto the kitchen counter, feeling him press you further into the appliance.

it was a little humiliating when he’d whisk you into his lap in public, important meetings, fancy dinners, you name it, no matter what, you’re sitting on his lap.

he’d watch you toy with his fingers, fiddle with his rings just to see how small they were against his, would be purposefully pressing you against his hard-on just to watch the way you dig your nails into his palm helplessly.

constantly squishing you against him, towering over you, pinning you to things, against things.

tell him he won’t fit, give him fat tears rolling down your cheek to match and he is talking so sweet to you, “ohh baby, s’okay, i got you sweetheart shh shh, i’ll make it feel so good.”

sometimes even he’d use the excuse that he’s just too big, like there’s no way you’re not getting his fingers fucked into your pussy and ate out before you attempt to take even an inch of him :((

“you’re so tight baby, how many times have i fucked this cute little pussy and you’re still not used to it?” he’d rasp out, dragging out every second of pushing his fat cock into your pussy to set an example.

“needy cunt can’t stop sucking me in, relax sweetheart.” he’d coo in a voice that sounded like pure honey.

the way you could feel the burning stretch every time he pushed his cock in your cunt had your back lurching off of the mattress, he had to push you back down with his hand pressing against your stomach which sent you into a frenzy, seeing the way his fingers sprawled out across your stomach.

bulge kink ♡

when he first saw the outline of him in your fucking tummy it sent him absolutely ballistic, he’d be sweating, dick twitching inside you and saying the crudest nastiest things as his fingers trailed the shape,

“look, look right fucking now-“ he grunted and you’d have to force yourself out of your daze, leaning up on your elbows and seeing what he saw, you’d cum right on the spot, especially when he stuffs himself deeper, he’d be totally pussy whipped, pussy drunk, whatever you wanna call it, he is just crazy for it.

“you feel my that baby? deep inside you? mmh? you make me feel so good, you know that don’t, you angel?” he wouldn’t let up on you unless you gave him a coherent answer.

a lot of bouncing on his knee, pretends not to notice you’re all hot and bothered until you’re eventually rutting against him, begging for his attention with tears in your eyes, sticky underwear, and a puddle of your arousal making his denim even darker.

loves the way you struggle to take his cock down your throat, you always have your hands all over him, throat sore, gagging and spitting to try make it easier- you’re so sloppy and your teeth graze against him a lot but he can’t help but find it endearing, just means he has a lot to teach you.

one day, laying you down to fuck your throat, watching the way his cock slides deeper and deeper, he can see how your throat expands to accommodate for his size.

manhandling you, like a lot, like everywhere, i told you you never have to lift a finger. his strength would make your stomach clench in desperation every time, you’re riding him but he still takes the lead, hips fucking up into you as he pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch so he can toy with your nipples in his mouth.

his entire body engulfing yours as he fucks you into the mattress, arms flexing either side of your head, all you can smell is him, all you can feel is him, everything is about him.

if you ever got too tired from doing such a good job bouncing on his dick he’d let you lay limply against him so he can use you like his own personal cocksleeve ♡

this man fucks you against walls, lifts you up to fuck you, the most uncomfortable positions are just so easy for him- they’re so worth it, he loves nothing more than wrecking your cute little cunt.

always slapping away your hands when you try to initiate anything, thumb playing with your clit before you could even reach down, his hand around your throat before you could even push his hand towards it, fingers stuffed down your throat before your tongue even fully hung out your mouth, spit dripping down your tongue as the two of you made out.

“let me take care of you.”

[agi-ppangx]

to feel wanted (bang chan x gn!reader)

hurt/comfort i think???, very self indulgent, channie is here to stay an: this is the aftermath of me procrastinating on uni stuff, have fun reading it😽

“why would you say that?”

you blinked a few times, tilting your head to the side. did you say something wrong? 

“what do you mean?” you mumbled, taking a sip of your coffee. you grimaced, feeling it taste more bitter than usual. 

“you said we’re not close,” chan elaborated and you nodded. you did say that, yes, but what was so wrong about it? “i don’t wanna make it about myself, but it hurts, y’know?” he added, making you freeze. you looked up at him with a bewildered face and it almost made chan apologise, but he couldn’t drop the topic now, not when he finally worked up the courage to broach it with you. 

“i don’t think i understand,” you said with a forced smile, huffing gently to lighten the mood around you two. you hoped he’d just say “yeah, forget it”, but it seemed to seriously bother him as he searched for the best way to voice his concerns. 

“i know you don’t have a lot of close friends,” chan started hesitantly, not sure if it won’t hurt you. you frowned but nodded nonetheless, aware of your nonexistent social life. “but saying that we aren’t close? c’mon,” he sighed. you dropped your head, stirring the straw in your coffee a few times. your cheeks burned and your breathing became erratic. you took another sip of your bitter drink. 

“it’s just… easier for me,” you started quietly, not daring to look him in the eyes. you reached out for a napkin from the dispenser, desperately trying to busy your hands with something, anything just to not focus entirely on the conversation you never wanted to have in the first place. “i always do this, it’s like some kind of… defence mechanism or something. at least that’s what i tell myself.” chan glimpsed at you with a concerned look on his face, straightening his posture. 

“so… what does it mean exactly?” he asked, observing as you folded and unfolded the napkin. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the vulnerability.

“throughout my life i learned that people don’t really like me. they tend to think i’m rude or weird and they never want to talk to me after they meet me,” you shrugged your shoulders. “i’ve always been the kind to get attached really quickly, so it hurt me whenever they left. so now i just kind of… gaslight myself into thinking that people don’t care about me and that i’m not close to anybody.” chan observed you intently as you spoke almost nonchalantly about your struggles. he stayed silent as you put the napkin away and just stared into the table. 

“you know i’d never leave you, right…?” he whispered, not exactly sure how he should feel. he was hurt, of course, because for the past few months you two had known each other he considered you one of the closest people in his life. you made him happier, like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day or a cup of warm tea on a winter evening. why couldn’t you see how important you were to him?

you finally made eye contact with him, looking for any type of sarcasm in his sight, but instead you were met with softness, gentleness, love. 

you nodded silently, blinking rapidly as you felt the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you couldn’t open up fully just yet, but you wanted to believe him. you wanted to know what it’s like when someone genuinely cares about you and is willing to keep up with your odd traits and strange personality.

you wanted to feel wanted. 

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[atyourmerci]

† Corruption †

Read pt.1 here

†

Summary: After that fateful night when Abby stumbled into your room and began her demise, she follows you into the showers to reconcile her sins

Warnings: smut, MDNI, switch!abby!?!?, switch!reader, heavy religion play indisone, fnv, cunnilingus, dirty talk yurrrr, no use of y/n

A/N: sorry this took 4ever I just really wanted to get this right and I still don’t love it but I must feed my babies. I mightttttt make a pt.3 that’s up to yall but either way I’m going to work on some other stuff so please send in recs!! (Also I know hotels don’t have communal showers just shut up and enjoy the porn:))) 

†

Your vision went blurry, plunging you into a coma that kept your breathing synchronized until you couldn’t remember anymore. Maybe all the heavy breathing took you out, maybe God was retaliating at your corruption of his loyal follower. Either way- it was a good way to go out.

When you woke up, severely late at that, there was no sight of Abby, she was gone like the wind. In any normal case, that was what you preferred. The useless banter, awkward cuddling and sentiments were far beyond you. But this felt different- she- was different. Not in a way that you couldn’t have her, an unforbidden love tragedy, but in a way that she altered every being in you. She fucked everything you knew.

Days went by with no interaction; you both avoided each other like the plague. She probably condemned herself the moment she left; fuck she was already in suit of redemption mid orgasm. You avoided her because you knew you couldn’t stop yourself. This wasn’t her way of life- it was yours. Sure, she initiated it, but you reveled in it, got off on it, desired more.

Your thoughts were selfish, self-indulgent, downright merciless. While your days were spent avoiding your unrequited love, your nights had grown breathless as your hand was shoved deep into your panties trying to get yourself off to thoughts of Abby, to no avail. It felt like your karma for fucking God’s favorite devotee. You wished she would hear your aimless attempt, swoop in and return your favor. But she never did, of course she didn’t, she feared her own fucking reflection.

After a week of thoughtless days and sleepless nights you decided to shove the night as far back as possible, stop ruminating on the idea of her. That’s all that night was, a desperate idea of what she could be without moral. That wasn’t the Abby anyone knew, and neither did she.

Friday was terrible, there was an attack at the camp and a few soldiers were pretty bad off. Since you were the only medic, you were tasked with treating multiple injuries at once, scaling them at the urgency of attention. In a sick way, you hoped Abby was hurt. You wished you could have tended to her, even in that light, any way you could get your hands on her.

The only sight of Abby was her bringing in wounded soldiers’ bridal style into your med tent. When she first arrived, it was the first words either of you had spoken in a week, only for her to bark at you about the incident and return with additional members. After she had carried all of them in, she stood and watched you tend to them for a second before you aggressively whipped back to her with a, “I got it, stop breathing down my neck.”

You weren’t trying to be harsh with her, but the last thing you needed was her presence in the wake of this monstrosity. She had already clouded your every thought, and this was not the time to finally have her at the tips of your fingers again.

After hours of stitching, compacting, and amputating wounds you were spent. Blood trailed up and down your body, caked in sweat and dirt. You were barely mobile at this point, but the thought of going to bed decorated with the blood of your friends was unnerving.

You set off to the communal showers in the middle of the rundown hotel, it was so late at this point that you were guaranteed a peaceful shower uninterrupted by any needy suitors. You removed your blood adorned clothes, dropping them to the cold white tiled floor and started the rusty shower head.

The hot water drowns your skin as blood and dirt trail down your body into the drain, you let it soak in your tired flesh as you let the day out of you. You let your fingers run through your tangled hair when you hear a creak of the door open, causing a heavy sigh to linger out of your breath.

The last thing you wanted to do was having to entertain the presence of someone else so you decided to ignore the rustling, continuing to wash through your dirty locks.

Your peace was faltered as you left a breath coming from behind your neck, heavy in almost a pant. You feel strong hands whip you around to face your attacker, and shoved into the cold back tile of the wall sending you into a gasp. Abby stood before you, already stripped of her clothing, the water fell in between your bodies and into your open mouths.

Her hands still gripped at your waist, “touch me and don’t make a fucking sound,” she aggressively whispers low enough so no one could hear, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night, or that the water wouldn’t muffle out any noise, maybe she was that scared of being caught.

“Abby if you think this-“you begin to protest when she cuts you off by pulling you in by your waist to kiss you like a woman starved. It had only been a few days, but she gripped onto you like it had been years, years since she let herself go out of morality. You wanted to stop yourself, tell her you wouldn’t live this lie for her, but your body had a different agenda, it ached for her touch, anything she would give you.

She pulls away from you to simple mutter out a “please,” and you were convinced. It was like a parasite had wormed its way into you, you had gotten just as starved as she was. Without a beat you sunk to your knees as the water flooded your vision, the only sight was her sticky floods pooling between her muscley thighs. You attacked her pussy with your lips spewing a guttural moan out of her lips, she gripped onto your soaked hair for leverage. Her grip on your hair was almost painful but you couldn’t stop lapping her slick into your needy tongue to stop her.

Abby was already shaking from the overstimulation, you couldn’t pace yourself, you needed her to cum for your own validation, to know how much she needed you. Even if she never touched you, you were still fulfilled by the act. “F- fingers pl-ease” she says muffled by the water drenching you. You turn up to watch her plead tongue still deep into her slit, mascara running down your face as the water pelleted your eyes.

“D-ont look at me like th- this,” her mouth agape, she looked like she was crying, maybe she was, maybe it was the hot steam. You run a fat strip from her leaky hole up to her clit never leaving her gaze, she couldn’t look away and neither would you. “What are you going to do if I don’t Anderson?” You say with a cocky smirk and drive your tongue deep into her cunt again making her shake.

With an angered grunt you feel your hair being pulled up so that you’re back to your feet, you let out a wince from the pain before she throws you back onto the tiles, this time you had been too worked up to feel the chill of them on your skin. She places her left hand onto the titles next to your head, the veins in her arms bulging from using them to pull all of your body weight by your hair.

Her chest is flesh with yours that you can feel your bodies breath’s heave back and forth, eyes drilling into each other. “Fingers.” She demands. You didn’t realize you were so in shock by her aggression your hands were pinned at your sides, you moved them down her chest slowly, feeling every chiseled-out crevasse on her. Her breath only becomes more rapid as you draw your fingers closer to her aching cunt.

She whimpers out a “fuck,” as your fingers reattach to her clit, rubbing slow enough to relieve the pain but not enough to get her off. You watch as her head finally drops, and her arm shakes next to your head. Her cross was laid messily on her chest, flipped backwards, you hold back laughter as you think to yourself how God couldn’t watch this right now.

“You like getting fucked by a girl huh Anderson?” You dip your head closer so that you’re in her ear now, “you touch your little pussy every night since I made you cum, yeah?” You taunt and tease her as she whimpers into your ear. “St-op it,” she begs with her head nuzzled into the crook of your neck in a way to almost hide herself.

“Its okay baby, tell me how much you like getting fucked like a godless whore,” you start to circle her clit harder and faster so you can watch how much she likes it. All she can spit out in return is a desperate “fuckkkk,” and you know you’ve broken her. “D- don’t let me cum- I- I don’t deserve it,” she moves her head so you can see her now and begins panting on your lips.

“oh no Im going to enjoy watching you break again,” you say back with a wide grin, reveling in her desperation. You’re ready to dip your fingers into her dripping folds when you feel her free hand travel up your thigh. Her hand finally meets your cunt and she grips it harshly causing you to buck your hips into it.

“A- abby what are you d-doing?” Every emotion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Why was she touching you? This wasn’t her thing, not her job, that was your job. Would you be able to stop her? Control yourself? Let her have you? Why did she feel so fucking good when she was barely touching you?

She continues pulsing her palm into your aching cunt, “just let me try,” she breathes out against your soaked lips. Your fingers begin faltering at her clit, you try continuing your pace but it slows as her palm rubs against you.

She follows your lead by tracing her thick fingers through your slick folds, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back from exposing yourself. When she begins circling your clit you can’t help but to whimper a choked out, “fuck just like that,” she was doing so well already.

She seemed pleased by her work, letting out a moan that followed your own. She was getting off on your pleasure instead of her own at this point.

You are barely able to keep your pace on her clit anymore, so engulfed by the feeling of her rough fingers on your swollen clit. She removes her fingers from your clit to move your hand off of her own clit, moving it so your palm lay against her chest.

She returns her fingers back so that only you are being pleased by her. You couldn’t believe that this was the first time she had done it, she felt like she was made to touch you, circling your bud like it would bring her to salvation.

Words were barely at the forefront of your mind at this point but you needed to ask her, “di- did you do all of- fuckkkk- ju- just to fuck me?”

She pierces her bright blue eyes into yours to make herself clear, “I worship you,” she says as she dips her long, thick ring and middle fingers deep into your cunt, immediately inching your g spot. The palm of her hand grazing your clit to give just enough friction.

All you can muster up to respond with is a guttural scream that rips through you, causing to use the hand that was placed on the wall to cover your mouth quickly. “Shhhh pretty girl I know I know,” she coos.

You bring her fingers into your mouth for leverage, anything to keep you from losing all control. Her pace quickens as she feels your walls clenching around her dripping fingers. How the fuck does she know you’re close.

As you begin nearing your climax, your mind runs free from all morality, she begin corrupting you just the same, driving out what you knew and replacing it with only her.

You didn’t even know you were doing it, not until she moved her fingers out of your mouth to understand you, “abbyabbyabbyabbyabby” with your eyes rolled, head slack on the tiles you begin worshiping her, praising her ever being like a mantra.

What brought you back to consciousness was the heavy breath and the ringing of your own name in a mantra beside your ear. You had never repented before, but she had begun her reconciliation along with you. If this were to be your religion, you’d give into her over and over again. At your knees to serve her, punished at your wrong doings and give penance for your sins.

“Serve me with your completion, give your god what she deserves,” she demands. You couldn’t disobey your savior, she showed your needy body mercy, and you must obey her.

It all hits you like a wave, all you can see is white as your body trembles under her. You can’t recall screaming but she moves her hand over your mouth. Your entire body shakes as she rides you over your high, kissing your forehead as you bite into her fingers, never letting up on her pace until she knows you can’t take it anymore.

As all of your limbs give out she slowly moves her fingers out of your abused pussy, picking you up before you fall straight into the hard tiles. She gently places you onto the tiles in front of her, holding you by your waist as the water floods from above you.

You try to mumble out something but she stops you with a quick “shhh I’m going to take care of you,” as she begins to wash out your hair gently. You lean your head into the crook of her neck and she lays peppered kisses from your shoulder to your neck.

“Please don’t run off again…” you muster up as she threads her fingers through your hair, “you’re all I know.”

“You’re all I have.”

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2

[pressureplus]

sebby x transmasc reader headcanons? i'm feeling self indulgent today >:)

Whoo, Yeah! I'm finally getting to answer this one! I personally have little to no gender at any point in time, and my lovely Co-Star has all of the gender and fluctuates fairly regularly between the shiny genders they've collected. So this is written from the shared trans braincell, gotta support the homies ✨

(Hope you have a wonderful day!)

Sebastian Solace x Transmasc Reader

[Warnings: Transphobia and misgendering (neither one from Sebby) and mentions of Dysphoria]

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

• Honestly, this fish bastard couldn't care less

• Your gender, job, and species are COMPLETELY irrelevant to him, the ONLY thing he really cares about is whether or not you are going to buy his stuff

• His gender? Shopkeeper. Now give him your data-

• If it's not addressed, you are literally just another man that Urbanshade sent on a suicide mission, he really doesn't care what is or is not in your boxers

• Can't stress enough that he's ONLY supportive when you or someone else brings it up, Sebby never pushes the topic. If you didn't know you told him or that he found out, you'd honestly think he didn't know

• Now, are there ways this becomes relevant to him? No, absolutely not, you are just another guy that's going to buy an expensive flashlight and then die several terrible deaths.

• It's not until one of the other expendables starts to misgender you that he even seems to notice

• "She? I don't particularly see any women in my shop at the moment- If you're sick I'm going to have to ask you to leave so we don't catch whatever nasty thing you have."

• "I think you meant 'Him', as in 'I am going to hand Him my gun and look away when He makes you a stain on my tile'. Do you understand me, expendable?"

• "It's funny hearing someone only packing 3 inches try to decide what is and isn't a man. I think we all know his is bigger than yours is, so if you could shut up about it that would be great."

• Sometimes he's more sassy, sometimes more outwardly aggressive, and occasionally he tells someone off in a way that's a bit more on the side of entertaining, but he does always make a point to stick up for you

• If you need your hair cut, he'll do it. He cuts his own hair and has for the last decade, so he's actually pretty good at it! Better at messy styles, but he'll try a clean one if you really want him to

• "If you die because your hair is in your eyes, I won't get your data. You must understand this is to my own benefit, Y/N."

• Sebastian is... Starting to call you by your name. You're not sure when you stopped being an expendable like everyone else and started being the name you actually chose for yourself, but you've surely become different to him

• Sebastian was born a man, and handles issues regarding your situation completely casually unless it 100% HAS to be verbally brought up, so you are left completely confused by what you did to get closer to him like this

• Was it somewhere between him validating you or defending you? Was it when he sat with you for the first or third time while you were wrestling your disphoria? Was it trust, or maybe pity... It couldn't be pity, right?

• One day you'll find out he's sees himself in you

• He says it like a joke when he starts to talk about how they treat you differently when they don't understand you. Researchers treated him the same way a handful of the other people down here treat you.

• He knows it's not quite the same, but it feels the same for him sometimes. When they call him 'it' instead of he... Sometimes he calls himself an 'it' or a 'thing', too even though he knows he hates that. Do you feel that way when they call you a she? He'll just go ahead and start banning those people for you both, he doesn't like them anyway.

• He isn't comfortable in his own body anymore either. He didn't choose what he is now the same way you didn't choose what you were born as

• Sometimes, his body doesn't fit right, either. He hates that he understands that feeling, but he does...

• He's starting to get comfortable with that familiarity, and with maybe not feeling so alone

• Is it wrong of him to enjoy having found someone he can relate to? If even just a little?

• Sebastian knows it's probably awful of him, but he's making a point to be good to you for it

• It makes himself feel better for a while when you can connect like that so naturally...

• It makes him feel human again.

[vrisrezis]

Atsv characters taking care of s/o in pain

Fun fact I deal with physical pain a lot bcuz my health is shit. I have been in so much pain I couldn’t even sleep for the last 2 days. Was especially bad today so here’s smth kinda self indulgent.

(Hc portion)

Gwen is insistent on having miguel or jessica check you out to see if they could possibly ease your pain. Miguel is from the future technically, there has to be something. She hates the idea of you being in so much pain you can’t even lie down comfortably, you can’t sit still, you can’t sleep, or even worse if you start crying? She feels awful. She has heating packs to help you ease your pain if it helps, and she keeps you on a strict schedule with taking medication so that your pain is as limited as possible. She does everything she can for you, especially given the lack of knowledge she has on this typa thing.

(Small fic portion)

“I hate seeing you like this” she sighs, kissing you on the forehead, pressing the big heating pack to your stomach. There is instant relief, even if that relief is short lived and your once again reminded of your pain, she still feels you relax. Even if only slightly. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you.” she frowns, feeling guilt.

“Nonsense” you say, giving her a weak smile, putting a hand on her cheek. She puts her hand on yours, holding it in place on her cheek. “You being here is enough for me. You did everything you could. This is just… how it is, yknow?”

She sighs, taking your hand off her cheek so she can kiss your knuckles. “But it shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I wish I could just take this pain away from you.” she presses her forehead against yours, and for a moment, even if it was brief, you feel peace.

(Hc portion)

Miles is so unsure how he can help you but damn if he isn’t determined as fuck to help ease your pain even if only slightly. He is extremely sympathetic towards you. He genuinely cannot imagine how it must be to constantly go through pain to the point you can’t even get proper rest. He will try to get you to relax your muscles, which can be difficult granted the pain you’re in, but he knows if he’s able to succeed with that you can at least get some sleep. Back massages or even massaging the places that hurt, he’s all on it. Always has medicine with him, might even ask his mom to watch over you for him while he’s gone doing Spiderman stuff, even if just to check on you.

(Short fic portion)

“You didn’t have to do this miles,” you say, chugging down your third dose of ibuprofen today. “Thank you though.” you say, before lying back down.

“Of course I had to do this for you babe!” he says with a roll of his eyes, annoyed you’d even suggest he didn’t have to help you out. “If I can’t be here for you in your time of need, what’s the point in being your boyfriend, your best friend for that matter.” he continues to speak as he lies down next to you. “Roll over.” he commands, which you aren’t quite used to him doing. He’s been acting rather motherly towards you lately, but you can’t exactly blame him with the state you’ve been in.

You follow his orders and do so, and he begins to message your back, and you audibly sigh without meaning to. He laughs as a result, making you laugh too. “Shut up.” you roll your eyes, and he can’t help but laugh even more. “Hey I’m glad you’re just finally relaxing.” he says before kissing the back of your neck.

Somehow you’re boyfriend always knows how to make your agonizing pain a bit more bearable.

(Hc portion)

My man hobie somehow manages to get his hands on morphine. You will not be dealing with this pain on his watch, he will find a way. High key hates the fact you’re going through this and does everything he can to ease it or prevent it. Might talk to you about random shit, about his day or about other people or crazy shit that happened, anything as a means to distract you. Though this can prove to be difficult, hobie has a relaxing voice and he’s able to soothe you no matter how bad your pain is. Might sing ya to sleep with his lovely voice.

(Small fic portion)

Your quiet as you listen to hobie hum. While his music tastes consisted of punk (obviously) he was a bit of a metal head as well, and it’s not that you didn’t like that genre of music but it was far from relaxing. So you had calmly asked hobie if he could please sing something that wasn’t so intense.

Soft shit was not his thing but if it eased your pain, who is he to complain?

He had his arms around you, your head on his chest and you felt it rumble as he quietly sang to you.

“Cariño, eres un amor”

“Something about you babe.”

“Something about you babe”

he finally finishes, and you smile for the first time today.

“Thank you, hobie.” you whisper, and he kisses the crown of your head. “Anytime hun”

(Hc portion)

Pavitr feels terrible omg bless this boy he does everything he can. Buys you a lot of fattening foods as tribute. He knows he shouldn’t make it a habit especially if you’re pain is like constant and happens a lot but he cannot help himself. His baby should not be in pain! Sometimes kisses the spots your in pain and likes to rub the spots in an attempt to soothe you and your pain. Buys a lot of medicine and pain relief creams. May try to distract you with watching movies and stuff, but also will straight up ask you if there’s any other way he can help you. Definitely makes you peppermint tea to help ease your pain.

(Small fic portion)

You drink the last of your tea, placing the empty cup on your end table and lay all the way back next to your boyfriend. He offers to put the cup in your sink and clean it, but you shake your head. “It’s fine I can do it tomorrow.” you say, before resting your cheek on his shoulder, “besides I want you here with me.” you admit, and he smiles at your little confession before wrapping is arms around you in an embrace. “Aww babe!” he says, before smooching you on the cheek with an annoyingly loud, “mwah!”

you laugh as he attempts to kiss you more all over your face, putting your hand on his face and pushing him in an attempt to get him to stop smothering you. “Baby cut it out!” you laugh, “why? I just wanna love youuuu!” he whines, and you giggle, “because I’m trying to watch the movie!”

Your boyfriend sighs before conceding. “Fine.” he says, and you finally turn back to watch the movie.

“Just kidding!” he says quickly, attacking your neck with little kisses this time, making you laugh even harder than before. “Oh babe Cmon!”

He’s just glad he succeeded in distracting you from your pain, for a little while.

[kaleidohscopic]

SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached. 

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good. 

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew. 

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it. 

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass. 

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before. 

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?” 

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise. 

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke. 

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice. 

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh. 

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect. 

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.  

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again. 

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest. 

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having. 

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile. 

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you. 

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed. 

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on. 

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic. 

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing. 

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way. 

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip. 

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter. 

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle. 

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth. 

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created. 

Which you had absolutely no intention to. 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it. 

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying. 

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles. 

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin. 

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face. 

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.” 

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes. 

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry. 

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth. 

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes. 

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you. 

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

[voxmortuus]

I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)

This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.

I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?

►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.

"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.

He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.

Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?

He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.

The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.

Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.

"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.

Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.

"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.

The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.

Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.

With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[Tags: platonic, fluff, self-indulgent]

A/N: This fic is dedicated for @rainlovesyou12 hope you like it <3

You are a medic, and you come from a rich family, so naturally you're placed in an elite team, at least populated by polite men

While you're not a spoiled brat, you sometimes dare to challenge anyone when you disagree with them. Your "courage" is usually dubbed as rich kid syndrome in the military

Strangely, the captain (Price) is amused by your behavior

He never scolded you, even when people said he should

Your job is a medic, but you're more like a secretary of the team.

You help Price with the paperworks, taking care of the base, and sometimes even their foods.

He also asks you to accompany him to meetings or private talks with the superior, the reason? They don't give him a proper secretary, even when they should.

When you first come in, the team is still on a mission. It took 3 whole months before you met the whole team

Your first reaction: "Wow, life's so unfair."

Their heights tower you that it's almost unreal

When you greet them one by one, a member catches your eyes

It's Soap

As a medic, it's your obligation to heal them if they have any injury. So when you see the blood on his clothes, you immediately point it out to him

"You're injured!"

He seems confused for a second as he looks down to his gears, before he laughs. "Tha' ain't my blood, bonnie."

"Still, I have to check if you have any wounds."

Surprisingly, most of them are minor

You begin to check the other members, but it's the same for them too. Just scratches and bruises

They'd dismiss you, if not for your question about their discomfort, or if they had any dislocation

And that makes them all your patients

Even the reluctant Ghost finally gave in. "Fucking hell Price, she's a pushover." He said, "You'll come to like it someday" Price replied

After that, you and the team settle in the base, trying to get used to each other's company

(You also didn't ask questions on why the big man is still wearing a mask even though he's in the base)

Soap, and Gaz are the easiest to talk to, while Ghost is just polite, but still keeps his distance.

The three of you bond over food, because it's mandatory to cook if you wanna save money. You and Gaz are great at it, while Soap is strictly prohibited from entering the kitchen

Soap absolutely ravaged the foods that you joked about how he always makes the plates squeaky clean

On rare occasions, the giant man does show up at the table

When you ask him about what they eat usually, you can't believe your ear

"I ate the ratio that's been provided by the base." "You ate that dogshit???"

You end up scolding him (unintentionally) and end up telling him to eat the cooked food, but when he gets defensive, you tell him he doesn't have to eat together, just reheat the food whenever he's hungry

He didn't touch the food for 2 days, until one day, the leftover is gone, and the dishes were washed

You have no idea when did he do it, but you're glad nevertheless

Remember when I said you're more of a secretary than a medic? That Price often took you to meetings? Well, that leads you to an unfortunate meeting with Graves

Even Price was hesitant to bring you along

When you first met him, he's exactly the man that you picture in your head; arrogant, stuck up, flashy, and playboy. Basically all the bad stuff

He shamelessly flirts with you, to the point that Price has to clear his throat to remind him of the ongoing negotiation

One time he asks you (forcibly) if you'd like a bottle of a fancy wine that you don't even know

"You look like a girl that'd enjoy the Chateau Lynch-Bages' Pauillac." He'd smile

After several failed attempts to decline, you eventually give up

"I'm flattered that you'd give me such luxurious items, but I'd love to receive basic ingredients for cake. That way I can repay you back, how's that sound?"

He literally takes it as flirting

The next day, you literally received the high quality flour, eggs, sugar, etc etc that come in 2 boxes, along with a message: "While I hope you'd return the favor in some other way, I can't wait to taste what you made" and a scribbled wink

You end up baking a peanut caramel chocolate cake (A/N: try it, it's soooo good) because of the amount of chocolate he gave

The team watch you as you assemble the cake

You cut the cake into a good size for gift, and give the rest to the team

They treat it like a delicacy

After you sent it via his man, you received his reply on the next day

"I know you didn't give me all of the cake, so I hope you'll make up for it the next time. Ps. I like it, you should make more for me in the future" along with the abominable wink

Although you're irked by his narcissism, you feel a bit embarrassed and puzzled that he knew it's not the whole cake

You try to figure out how, and finally it clicks; he purposely bought a bigger size pan, and a medium sized box. Along with the evidence of a long rollcake box that somehow can fit the rest of the cake. You sigh, this man is really petty

And stubborn as well

The pile of unopened letters, with his name signed on the back would be the proof of it

Soap and Gaz tease you about him when they read the notes, but you dismiss them by saying: "I'd rather date Ghost than him."

Fast forward, Price and Gaz'll leave for a mission for months. But Soap and Ghost stay behind

Weeks would pass relatively quiet, and they're still radio silent. You couldn't help but worry, though Soap quickly assured you that they'd be fine

Ghost still kept a distance between you and him, until one night, when you and Soap fell asleep on a movie marathon, you woke up startled by the sight of him on the sofa.

"Shit, you scared me."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't."

"Why are you here?" You quickly corrected yourself, "It's not that you're not welcomed, but you're not around much, so…"

"No reason, just feel like it."

Silence

Then you gather the courage to say, "By the way, I'm glad that you didn't eat those ratios anymore. Let me know if you crave something in particular, I'll try to make it."

He just stares at you, before saying, "I don't understand, Price can just order takeouts for us, why should you burden yourself with cooking? Aren't you a medic?"

"Well," you scratch your head, "I'm the one who suggested it, because I couldn't stand eating takeouts everyday. The foods he ordered were greasy, and I didn't want to get sick because of it."

He lets out a snort, "You don't have to care about your weight when you're in the military."

"It's not about that." You shook your head, "But if you said it that way, well, I won't be here forever, so I have to maintain it somehow. Besides, I'd like to keep my cholesterol level normal so I won't die of heart failure or something."

That catches his attention as he gives out a small laugh, "The doctors I knew are either dead or diabetic. You're the first one that cares about your own health."

You shrug, "As I should. You should too."

For a split second, you let out a cold sweat, wondering if it somehow offends him for some reason, before you let yourself relax when he continues watching the TV. The two of you watch in silence, before you fall asleep again

Nearing the arrival of your team, you decide to busy yourself with dinner. Which, more like grocery shopping and planning on the dishes

"They usually eat pizzas after a long mission, ye don't have to do that." Said Soap one morning

"I don't care if they end up ordering pizzas." He furrows his brows at you, "I just feel the need to do that, I don't know why."

He playfully grins, "Wife instinct?"

"That's not it," you laugh it off, "It's just that, Price ever said to me that maybe one day, one of them won't ever come back. It has stuck with me ever since, and I don't wanna think about that at all."

He nods understandingly. You need a distraction

"Let me help then."

You both settle with beef bowl, eggs, and potato salad, based on his input that 'they'd probably want to eat a lot, so just make them easy to get refill'

You bought a ton of sliced beefs and onion, rice, and potatoes

The day that they come back, you're hit with a bad feeling and fear the worst, but after seeing them both in one piece, you let out a relief sigh

Still, the dark mood is still persistent

They look like they don't have any appetite, even for a pizza

You actually would let them rest, if they didn't look like they're malnourished

(Actually, when you think back, it's just an excuse to feed them. You actually just want them to eat your food)

"Would you guys like a beef bowl?"

Price perks up at the offer

"Well shite (Name), just what I need."

You tell him there's also potato salad, but that day he just wants the rice

They end up eating one portion—a small size compared to what they usually eat

They're still quiet even after the dinner, so you decide to excuse yourself, giving them space and the rest they need

You're in the office, sorting through documents until Price knocks on the door

He looks weary but still offers you a smile

"I'm sorry for being so gloomy tonight." He told you

"That's fine, really. You don't have to apologize."

"I feel like I have to, especially when you too are affected by it."

You let out an awkward chuckle, "Well, it's nothing like that. I know you guys are tired so I don't wanna bother you with too many questions." You shrug, "Anyway, I'm glad you guys are alright."

A warm smile spreads on his lips, "You're a good girl, too good for us men." He uncrosses his legs as he leans away from the door frame, "Thank you for the food, we'll talk again tomorrow, yeah?"

The two of you exchange a "goodnight" as he walks away, and you come back to your work

After Price, you didn't expect anyone to come to your place again, until the second person showed up at your door. You lift your head and see Gaz standing there, almost shyly

"Oh hey." You greet him, "Didn't see you there. Need anything?"

"Hey." He greets back, "No, I don't need anything. Just checking on you."

You tilt your head, face clearly shows a questioning look but you cover it with a smile

"Uh, y'know what? I wish I could tell you what happened, you must've been worried about—"

"Oh, no, no. You don't have to tell me. I don't wanna know either." You offer him a reassurance, "Don't worry about it, Gaz."

He seems relieved upon hearing that

"You're right." He said, "But it doesn't mean that I can't tell you funny stories."

He pulls up a chair as he begins to tell you stories from the mission. From the horrible dad jokes, and a moment when Price slipped on the ladder. In exchange, you tell him about your encounter with Ghost, which makes him laugh

It actually surprises you to hear Gaz telling you stories and all. You assume that he only does it to cheer you up, or that's just his way to destress. Either way, it's nice to have a company like him

He'd keep going if you didn't remind him of the time, and you have to force tell him to sleep, promising that you'll talk tomorrow again

The next day, you're surprised to find almost all of the members are in the kitchen. Chatting and eating the leftover beef with reheated rice

All of them, except for Soap, but it's because he hasn't wake up

You didn't want to admit it, but seeing the pan empty makes your pride swell

You join their talk as you sit on the table, and they immediately complain about you not making enough batches for breakfast in a humorous way. You complain back by saying you didn't get paid enough for this

And that leads them to protest about the food budget to Price

He just sighs

By the time Soap joins in, all the food is already gone. And he's pissed about it

"You gotta order pizza for today." Gaz jokes

"Fookin' cunt."

As the conversation flows, Price announces something so suddenly, that you doubt your hearing

"What did you say?"

"You'll be on the same mission as us next month. Pack up and be prepared."

Gaz whistles, "We won't be doing paperwork then?"

"She'll focus on being a medic, so she won't be doing your paperwork."

He groans

"That's… great news." You responded when they all stared at you, "When will we be leaving again?"

"Exactly one month from now." He explained before he sighed, "But don't be too happy yet, because it's not easy to be stationed in the red zone. I know you can handle it but still." He shook his head, "The bad news is, and you wouldn't like it when you hear it but, the person who requested your assistance… Is Graves."

[voltronisanobsession]

Hi! Could make a request about Percabeth x gn reader who is clingy/likes to spend as much time as possible together and physically affectionate with Percy and Annabeth, but not to others? Thank you!

Percy and Annabeth with Clingy Reader

Double combo 😍🔥🔥 I love writing self-indulgent stuff hehe

Hope you enjoyed this one, I loved writing for both of them😔😔😔 not proofread

Being the clingiest one out of the three of you, its really hard to unstick yourself to the other two

No matter what, reader is always seen with AT LEAST Percy or Annabeth

You feel at your best when your with both of them, so it’s not uncommon for other campers to see you hanging out with either Percy or Annabeth, or even both!

You love spending your day with them, spending as much time with them before dinner by accompanying them to their activities or chores

Since you’re the most open about your affections, you’re always somehow touching them

Whether it be a lingering hand on their back or an arm wrapped around their waist, you’re always clinging onto any part of them

Hand holding is a MUST for you

Annabeth takes your right while Percy takes your left😩

The one who would let you fully indulge in your clingy antics is Percy because,,

Cmon on now

I headcanon Percy as super clingy and affectionate too💀💀

He would let you latch on to him whenever you want bro, he’s all yours

He’s clinging just as tight

He loves when you just randomly jump on him and hug the living life out of him

UGHHH 💔💔💔

Since he’s just as affectionate as you, you already know he’s gonna play along with you as wrap your arm around his

He’ll then wrap his arm around your shoulder which causes you to hug him

His final one up on you is hugging you back while lifting you up in the air, your laughter ringing through his ears like music (SCREAMING)

Now, with two extremely affectionate people, Annabeth has to be the one to balance y’all out

As much as she loves being bombarded with your love attacks, she’s more calmer with her advances with you

So while your energy is bought all the way up with Percy, you’re able to just calm down and settle next to Annabeth when around her

Percy is more high energy and Annabeth is more soothing

She loves the more quieter moments between you two since she thinks they’re more intimate

Like during the campfire while Percy is somewhere in the dark night, you’d rest your head on her shoulder

She’d gently lay her own on top of yours and just

Sit there

She relishes in the moment you share, allowing you to take her hand and hold it, looking down at the serene look on your face while smiling

In private, you’re 100% more clingy

If you’re bunking in Percy’s cabin, you’ll cling onto your boyfriend and girlfriend, loving the way you’re sandwiched between them despite the bed offering so much space

You’d play with both of their hands while you slowly fall asleep, Annabeth’s warm and Percy’s cool hand comforting you as you close your hands

Now about what you said about reader not being affectionate with others, it would be more about how comfortable you’ve grown with Percy and Annabeth

Yeah you’ll hug your sibling every now and then, but for the most part, you’re just not as close to anyone to be as affectionate as you are with your partners

And people find that fine tbh, whatever your more comfortable with is better🔥🔥

Spending so much time with Annabeth and Percy have made you all grow closer

Sure there have been some problems sprinkled in here and there, buts nothing that a good talking can’t fix

You’re living your best life as long as you got them both at your side 😭😭💔💔💔

[t0rturedangel]

I read all of your fics so far and they're great!! I really like your writing, it's fantastic! :3 Could I request a fic for Lucifer with a reader who is anxious and depressed, like him? - 🐇

╭ . . . 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚍 ੭

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ♰ ৎ﹕𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦

WOOOO I LOVE LUCIFER SM ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY so I'm so happy I have a request for him, i don't think i did a good job since I'm not sure how to write for stuff like this but still hope you like it!!!! also this is short so i'm sorry

✧⠀⨾ Mainly, since the two of you probably don't want to interact with the world of sinners, just stay in Lucifer's home.

✧⠀⨾ the two of you are probably coming up with new duck ideas, just the two of you- since literally no one else is welcome : the both of you hate interacting with anyone you don't have to, unless it's Charlie and her friends though that's rare

✧⠀⨾ whenever the two of you get like really anxious, or stare out the window in dread at all the sinners the other one will bring a duck over, like a personally made duck to try and help

✧⠀⨾ Lucifer has defiantly made a few ducks that look like you to try and help take your mind of your anxiety and focus on his craftmanship

જ⁀➴ Staring out of one of the many windows Lucifer had in his home, your eyes scanned over all the sinners and imps alike running around and causing havoc. Their behavior was one of the main reasons you and Lucifer never went out, beside the sheer anxiety of interacting with anyone. Sinners were crude, vulgar and had no respect for themselves or the people around them. At the thought of even talking to someone besides Lucifer caused your heart to speed up, your breathing quickening little by little which was your cue to turn from the window yet you found it difficult to do, the next option was to try and think of something different, anything different, like spending time with lucifer 

The isolation from the rest of hell wasn't bad at all, you had Lucifer, Lucifer had you and the two of you had ducks! dozens and dozens of ducks... it's almost concerning really- you and his would always spend your seemingly endless days in Lucifer's workshop for hours, always designing and creating these silly little duck toys, and while Lucifer would always bring himself down at the end of the completed project, saying how the parts that he worked on were terrible while simultaneously praising your side of the work- it was almost pitiful watching the king of hell say such things though you never indulged or agreed to his self-degradation, instead you attempted to bring his spirits back up by complementing his work. Though, your methods would only sometimes work, as at those times Lucifer would sort of- avoid listening to your words.

     Speaking of Lucifer, and the ducks- you noticed that Lucifer walked in the room you were resting in, a huge smile on his face as he held something behind his back. Your curiosity was peaked almost immediately, what did he have behind his back? was it money? food? a duck? the questions were endless and only came to a halt when Lucifer called to you. ˓˓ [name], my dearrr ʾʾ the tone of his voice perfectly matched his pale face, he was defiantly happy about something but what was it? finally, your mind was off of the outside world and now on lucifer and whatever he had behind his back  ˓˓ hm? ʾʾ was your reply- moving so you would be sitting at the edge of the window sill, your tail wrapping around the handle of the window to ensure that you wouldn't fall however you could only stay in that position for a little while as your dear Lucifer beckoned you down to which you happily obliged.

     Landing right by Lucifer, you and him both shared a smile- your one being more of a grateful smile as he did save you from your anxiety fueled thoughts. ˓˓ Hello Luci!.... what is that behind your back. ʾʾ at that question Lucifer smiled even more, chuckling to himself ˓˓ geeze aren't you curious today? ʾʾ he spoke while trying to hide what he had, you were trying to move around him so you could see what he had in his hands ˓˓ Just let me see for hell's sake ʾʾ you were determined to see what it was, and Lucifer- feeling ever so merciful today- grabbed your wrist to crease your movement ˓˓ Okay, okay [nick name] I'll show you ʾʾ finally! he was going to show you

     It was no surprise to you that what he pulled out was indeed a little duck, but what was different was that this duck looked a lot like you- like really a lot like you. ˓˓ You.. made this? ʾʾ examining the little duck, you smiled at how carefully it was made made- the small details that the duck was designed with matched your visage perfectly, you could immediately see that Lucifer put a lot of time and care into this.. that is so sweet.. ˓˓ yes, why? do you not like it ʾʾ the joy in his voice seemed to falter ˓˓ I love it Luci, it's so beautiful ʾʾ looking up from the duck you faced Lucifer's slightly shocked yet pleased smile ˓˓ I'm glad you like it, I know the both of us have been dealing with quite a bit with our anxiety and stuff so... I sort of made this for you try and remind you that hey! you're not alone! The two of us will always have each other right? ʾʾ he rambled, a golden hue on his face- did he find this embarrassing? he really shouldn't, this gift was not only adorable but so incredibly delightful

     ˓˓ of course! Of course we'll have each other- geeze Luci, this is so sweet what the fuck? ʾʾ instinctively you hugged Lucifer tightly, an action he happily returned. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you pulled away ˓˓ now I defiantly need to make something for you ʾʾ ˓˓ you dont have to! ʾʾ  ˓˓ I sure as fuck do! ʾʾ you laughed, quickly speeding away to start working on something for Lucifer while he tried to catch up to you to try and stop you.

[tobiasdrake]

Fun Fact: Goku is not the main protagonist of the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai. My favorite thing about this arc is its perspective flip on who Goku is and what he means to the story.

The Muten-Roshi first introduces the idea of the Tenkaichi Budokai at the start of Goku and Krillin's training.

In typical Goku fashion, Goku doesn't understand what they're talking about and yet is probably gonna win 'cause. Y'know. Goku. The arc leading into this made a pretty compelling argument that Goku's all but invincible and unstoppable. He's a strange little monkey boy who breaks everyone that goes against him.

Fitting his role as an adaptation of Sun Wukong.

Going into this, the Muten-Roshi lays out what he wants the boys to learn:

Roshi doesn't want this to be about vanity or self-indulgence. The tournament on the horizon is simply a motivator. The philosophy he wants to instill in these boys is Dragon Ball's core theme: The yearning for self-improvement.

Having something you're improving yourself for can be useful in keeping you on track but the focus is on the journey to get there, not the destination. Goku and Krillin aren't supposed to win the tournament. They're supposed to sharpen themselves into the kinds of people who could win the tournament.

...but it quickly becomes apparent that Roshi's methods will need some adapting to work with Goku's... Goku-ness.

Goku is a beast. Teaching him is going to be an ordeal.

This sets up a significant conflict to come. Not a conflict for the characters, but for the story: How do you even have a tournament arc for a character like this? Goku was created to be a funny little guy who eats challenges for breakfast.

So the day of the tournament comes to pass, and we're introduced to the "enigmatic" Jackie Chun.

It's not hard for the audience to tell who this man is, but the kids are fooled and that's what counts. At this time, we're still primarily in Goku and Krillin's perspective. Hoo-wee, this here tournament sure is gonna be a humdinger!

(That's Goku. That's what Goku sounds like. He's a backwoods hick who speaks informally and irreverently with a rural accent. I genuinely wonder what Goku's reception would have been like if his dub acting had faithfully reproduced his dialect.)

We stay with Goku through Krillin's first match.

While Jackie's first match seems poised to set him up as the archrival to be beaten.

Roshi's first match here seems set up to demonstrate how tough he's going to be to beat. He's the final boss of this tournament. Goku's going to need to take him out in order to overcome.

But Goku's first match, on the other hand, reminds us that Goku's been nerfed ever since the end of the previous arc. Losing his tail messed up his balance and he's been off ever since.

Everything we've seen from him during their training and the preliminaries was Goku fighting at a handicap. As of this moment, the gloves are off. The Monkey King is back in full form.

This is all good tournament stuff. We have a powerful rival, the strongest opponent around that Goku could possibly take on, but we've been given more than enough reason to believe Goku's up to the challenge.

We're inclined to root for Goku because he is our main protagonist. We're experiencing this world through his eyes. He wants to win the tournament. So we want him to win the tournament. We like it when characters we like succeed.

The semifinals are... interesting, through that lens. Four contestants are left: Goku and Krillin, as well as Jackie Chun and Namu. But Jackie's match with Krillin doesn't go by so easily as his fight with Yamcha.

Against Krillin, the Muten-Roshi has to work for it. Krillin's underhanded style brings him a hair's breadth away from victory. To win, "Jackie's" forced not only to reveal his ability to perform the Kamehameha, but also to introduce the Zanzoken/Afterimage technique for the very first time.

Though Goku pierces the illusion instantly. This fight shows us that the Muten-Roshi has his limits. Krillin didn't tax those limits too hard but this was still a harder fight than you might expect. Further, nothing he did here is shown to be truly threatening or ominous for Goku's chances.

Quite the opposite, even for the Zanzoken that clinched the match, we see Goku follow along just fine. He's gonna be alright in the finals.

By contrast, Goku's match with Namu sees him effortlessly dominate. He's invincible, he's unstoppable, and the closest he ever comes to defeat is when he accidentally dizzies himself from spinning around too much.

Goku eats Namu alive. He takes the best Namu has to offer and gets right back up without a care in the world.

It's the end of this match that lays out who the underdog in this upcoming match actually is.

Roshi watches Goku eat Namu for breakfast and he comes away shaken. Rather than wondering if Goku has a chance at winning this, we're left with the impression that he can't possibly lose. Goku is too strong, he's too invincible, to ever possibly lose this.

And it's here, in the wake of Goku's unbelievable shitstomp of a semifinal round, that the switch occurs. Because now that we've laid out that Goku is invulnerable, that Goku is almighty, that Goku's triumph is inevitable... suddenly, Roshi lays out the stakes of this arc.

If Goku wins this tournament, Roshi fears that victory will go to his head. He'll become proud and complacent. An arrogant brat with more power than he knows what to do with and no will to learn. Looking ahead to characters like Tenshinhan or Piccolo or Vegeta, characters who only began to work on themselves once Goku humbled them and gave them mountains to climb, it's easy to understand what he's talking about.

Though Roshi later questions whether this was really necessary, right here in this moment, we feel it. Just like that, the entire perspective of this arc has flipped. We move into the finals not wondering if Goku will win, but staring down the barrel of the invincible and unbeatable protagonist we've known from chapter 1.

The Monkey King Son Goku breaks every opponent that comes before him. He can't be beaten. He can't be stopped. He is all-powerful and invincible and an instant master of any technique you come at him with. He's absolutely favored to win this thing after that semifinal.

And for the sake of his development as a person and as a martial artist, the greatest master that our world has to offer, the man who would seek to educate the impossible, must. Take. Him. Down.

Jackie Chun is not the final boss of this tournament. The final boss is Son Goku.

The final match of the tournament is a Sisyphean ordeal, as Roshi breaks out every tool in his toolbelt only to be stymied at every turn by the sheer impossibility of Son Goku.

You can feel Roshi's growing frustration as Goku matches and overcomes everything in his path, devouring Jackie Chun as he devoured Namu in the preceding match. Whether that means matching his, the old master's Kamehameha:

Or one-upping his Double Zanzoken with a Triple Zanzoken:

With each passing chapter, we are experiencing Goku through the lens of an adversary. Rather than being privy to Goku's private monologue, it's Roshi whose thoughts we sit with as he tries again and again to find an answer to this impossible foe.

Every chapter (but one) ending the same way: Roshi tries. Roshi fails. Goku learns and analyzes and internalizes Roshi's abilities, making himself stronger. And Roshi's back gets closer and closer to that wall.

A fun playtime for Goku and the fight of his master's life.

And when Goku finally, finally goes down, we feel, viscerally, how hard this battle was fought. Roshi pulls this off only by the skin of his teeth; A victory that is, in its own way, as desperate and nail-biting as the battles with Vegeta or Piccolo or Majin Buu, despite the smaller scope.

You can feel Roshi's spirit dying inside as Goku asks that. But the job's done. The lesson has been implanted. The shape of Goku's future has been forged.

And the things he learned here today are values he will carry with him for the rest of his natural life (and beyond). That is the triumph of the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai.

...whether or not it was actually necessary to go this far, on the other hand, is left up in the air.

We can't ever truly know the results of the choices we didn't make. But the choices Roshi did make on this fateful day would become the first step in shaping the greatest martial arts master in the universe.

[kvgs]

summary: megumi x chubby fem! reader, this is fully self indulgent b/c as a chubby girl i’ve been feeling like shit about myself, megumi just being the gentleman he is

warnings: bad self image, kinda talk of ed and bad family life, suggestive….stuff

you were never good at feelings, neither is megumi. that’s what happens when you come from shitty home lives. but you knew one thing—megumi fushiguro is your best friend and you have feelings for him. feelings you cannot express without wanting to throw up or run away or curse at your parents for never showing you proper love.

plus, you’re not built like everyone else in your friend group. you’re painfully aware of this, so, megumi has to be as well.

he always says he doesn’t have a type, just an unshakable personality—nothing else matters to him. you refuse to believe that. giving yourself another excuse to hide your growing feelings for the brooding boy.

“y/n,” maki says, nudging you from your self deprecating daydream. “hm?” you hum, tugging the hem of your uniform’s skirt further down. “i asked if you wanna get food with nobara and i. get your head out of your ass,” maki lightly smacks you upside the head. a hiss falls from your mouth at the dramatic pain, your face twisting in annoyance. “megumi and yuuji are coming too. but more importantly,” maki leans in with a teasing smirk, “megumi is. the fact that you like that nimrod—“

“maki—no,” you cut her off quickly. she and nobara are the only people you’ve told directly that you like megumi. you can only assume that the others know because it’s not like you’re going at hiding it. blushing at every small thing he does for you. every small he gives you and not the others makes your heart sore. the way he remembers everything about you and has to ask maki, his own family member, when her birthday is. all basic things but things you never got as a kid.

the trio makes their way across the field and towards you guys. your hands clam up. you last saw megumi at breakfast where he insisted you eat more cereal, that there’d be a lot of training done today and you’d need the nutrients. he wasn’t wrong but you still felt guilty. “where’s panda and inumaki?” you ask, leaning to the side as you two stand up. maki smirks, “training, i assume. there the slowpokes are!” she announces as they get closer. “hey! i’m not a slowpoke!” yuuji groans as they approach.

“i am. i’m too tired. ugh,” nobara says, resting a dramatic hand against her forehead. megumi’s focus stays on you. his blue eyes are lit up unbeknownst to the both of you in a way that only light up when you’re in his sights. there’s a bit a sweat sheen across your forehead from training so hard and from the japan heat radiating off your skin. “you okay, y/n?” megumi asks with only a softness you receive. you raise an eyebrow, “yes, i’m a-okay.”

nobara huffs, “that’s great. i’m hungry. let’s go!”

you should’ve known this was gonna happen. you should’ve known when you woke up and saw what you didn’t like in the mirror. you ate near to nothing at lunch and here you are—forced into megumi’s dorm because your best friend knows when something is wrong with you. he knows when your world is about to combust and take you with it.

he’s currently on the corner of his bed, you on the other, refusing to meet his concerned blue hued eyes.

“y/n……something is up. and don’t say there’s not because we both know—“

“—that you know when something is wrong. yeah, yeah,” you huff, finally meeting his eyes. his face softens at your annoyance. you just wanna lay down and cover yourself until some bout of confidence comes over you and you can wear clothes without wanting to throw up. megumi inhales sharply, eyes shifting away from yours as he takes the chance and scoots closer to you.

“bad day?” megumi asks so low that if his room wasn’t so peaceful you wouldn’t be able to hear it. your gaze focuses on the carpet. “in what sense?” you question. megumi blinks, moving closer and closer until his thigh knocks into yours. shamelessly, his gaze wraps around you. the way your thighs sit on his bed, staring at the way your thigh high socks have your skin spilling from them. it’s sexy. you’re sexy. megumi hates me crude, he does but how you don’t find yourself sexy will always baffle him. of course he’s been attracted to other people but you—you are just everything he wants and needs.

“your brain,” he answers, forcing himself to lock onto your face again. he doesn’t regret it though. but—his heart sinks at the tears brimming your eyes. the ones that dare to stain your beautiful, chubby cheeks he’d love to lay kisses on. you snort sarcastically, “how’d you guess that one?” you sniffle. he furrows his brow, leaning back on his elbows. you turn to face him and for once you notice the way his eyes trail down your frame. you freak out. he sees it too. he finally sees it and you know it. how disgusting you are. how you’ll never be a good sorcerer because of the body you were burdened with. just like your parents said.

you wish in that moment your technique let you become as small as an ant so you could slip out of this room and never come back.

your feet hit the ground, “i’m gonna go—“

“y/n—“

“meg, i don’t wanna hear this. whatever bullshit, okay? i just—i wanna cry and be not—me,” you admit with a choked sob. megumi shoots up from his spot on the bed, hand’s subconsciously reaching out for you. your body winces, expecting something—anything except the soft touch that he holds your wrists with. “don’t wanna hear what, y/n? i just wanna help you. i’m not—i’m not the best with it and i’m sorry but i care about you,” he gulps, “a lot.” megumi shudders as he becomes vulnerable in front of his best friend. the same best friend he imagines kissing till neither one of them can breath, the same best friend he imagines losing it all to in her bed or his. the same best friend he wants to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how short or long.

“you can’t—help me, meg. no matter what i do i’ll be stuck here, in this mindset—me and you both know i’m gross—“

“what the hell are you on about?” megumi remarks offendedly, “gross? what are you saying?” you pout, the words of self deprecation circle your head but your mouth falls into an ‘o’, none of them able to fall from your mouth. it clicks for him. you think your body is gross. that’s never a way he’s heard you describe yourself. it strikes him with such a force that he might be more offended than you have ever been. he releases your wrist and you brace for impact. the agreement of your insult.

the face he adores so much refuses to look at him, only at the floor of his dorm. “y/n,” he says your name as if it might harm him. not that you’ll ever hurt him, but that the solemn look across your face might and once you look up—it strikes him in the heart like a bomb.

you’ve been silently crying while you stared at the floor. your brain feels like static and you’re surprised you even heard the call of your name with the war in your head. it’s shouting horrible things, your own brain is trying to kill you and sometimes it might be easier to let it but megumi won’t let you. no. for the first time in a while megumi has more than two people he cares about. people he feels responsible for. people he just wants to see happy and god, is your smile the one he always wants to see lit up, eyes crinkled in the corner from how ecstatic you are.

eyeliner from your makeup has fallen down your cheeks. mascara is basically gone along with the slight shine from your usual lip gloss. the things you put on everyday in hopes it’ll make you feel better about yourself. some days it does, some days it really does but other days you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like a pig with lipstick on.

megumi exhales sharply, swallowing at the sight of your tear stained, puffy lipped face. his hands are still around your wrist but one let’s go, carefully reaching out for your face, giving you ample time to rush away from him. but—you don’t. his large hand cups your right cheek and you lean into the touch. the silence rips apart. your sobs fill his dorm room, body weak as you feel yourself give up. megumi, who isn’t good with feelings, knows he has to hold you. so, he encases you in his frame, a hand holding your head to his chest. he tries to remember what his mother or sister would do the rare times he got upset like this.

“i’m tired of it, megumi,” you cry into the dark cloth of his t-shirt. it’s your favorite shirt on him and you’re ruining it. you ruin things. just like if you tell your best friend your harboring feelings. his hand rubs your back and you wince as if he has hurt you when it ghosts past a roll that you despise. “tired of what, hon—,” he cuts the pet name off, settling for a bite of his tongue instead. only you would let such a sappy thing fall from his mouth.

you don’t hear it over how quiet it was with your sobs. you force yourself to leave his hold, already feeling cold and you wipe your tears, staring at the makeup that now coats your fingers.

“feeling like i’ll never belong. i’ll never be—girl enough because of how i look. never pretty—“

“you’re gorgeous,” megumi says so quickly that he himself doesn’t expect the confession. the worlds fall down his throat with a gulp, echoing through his head as he watches your eyes widen. your fists clench and unclench, the cycle repeats until it feels like you’re back on earth and not dreaming that those words just fell from his mouth. he takes a step closer, “y/n?”

“yeah?” you say, tearful eyes flashing down his frame. your cheeks are hot as a blush works it’s way up from your throat to them. megumi scratches the back of his neck, for once wishing he listened to nobara or yuuji’s more than likely horrible love advice. it’s better than the blank brain he has right now. no, he can’t be that desperate.

your bit of confidence dies down when he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a loss for words. “megumi, you don’t have to say anything to make me feel—better. i’m just expressing my—feelings. something we’re both not good at,” you comment with a nervous chuckle and another wipe of the tears that don’t seem to stop. the gears are turning internally, splitting megumi open as all the things he’s been wanting to say for months pile up in his tongue.

it physically hurts him and he curses his father wherever he is at for leaving him, causing his feelings to pain him physically.

“you’re—pretty, y/n,” megumi admits once again with a hiccup to his throat. flustered, you look anywhere but the dark haired boy. at his polaroids attached to the wall, at his books stacked on his desk. even the teddy bear you got him at one of the local fairs a couple months ago. it sits perfectly up right on his desk, right next to all his study material. something to remind him of you as he gets his school work done. your heart swells at the thought while the other half fights to beat you down again.

in a split second, his hands have dipped your face again. he’s admiring you. all the things you hate, he’ll love ten times harder. you’re gravitated to look into his eyes and when you do, your heart skips a solid two beats. it’s a look you’ve never seen in him before. or maybe never noticed.

love. lust. admiration. just a simple twinkle you’ve never seen in anyone else before.

your eyes match his, making his stomach twists as butterflies flutter from their cocoons. he can feel your skin heat up under his pale hands and he finally learns of the affect he has on you.

the tension is—intense. you’ve never been here. neither of you know what to do next. but, your lips are twitching as your gaze lands on his lips. so, you follow your heart.

your lips lock onto megumi fushiguro’s and with no hesitation, he’s pulling you in deeper. his hands find your neck, yours tug at his hair until somehow, someway you get turned around and your calves hit his bed. you whimper, pulling away breathlessly. you’re both panting but smiling. big smiles that radiate love and need. you both finally got the thing you’ve been yearning for since you’ve seen the other.

the break doesn’t last long because megumi can’t take the separation. his lips attach to yours more feverishly this time. carefully, he rests you against the bed. you disconnect for a moment, only to crawl up to his headboard with him hovering above you. his black shirt falls a bit, letting you peek under it to see his toned body. you ball the collar in your hand with a new found confidence. moans and whimpers fill the room from two inexperienced and needy people.

after what feels like a blissful forever, you pull away. his lips are swollen, coated in your mixed saliva. his hair is messy with a goofy look across your face. “fuck,” you say between pants. his elbows land on either side of your body, caging you against his bed. he’s bright pink. “you believe me now?” megumi asks, sight falling to your neck and then your pushed up breasts because anywhere is better than your eyes right now.

but—the gentleman side of him wins and he shifts from your rapid moving chest to your face. “believe what?” you question and for a second he thinks you’re joking. his face falls for a second, head nearly falling with it to the comfort of your stomach. he chuckles, “that you’re pretty, idiot,” megumi sheepishly says.

you swallow and megumi can feel your nervous breaths beneath him. “i—uh, might need a few more to just—prove it,” you tease, hands sliding around his neck once more. megumi smirks, clicking his tongue, “yeah? i think i can do that.”

“good,” you say lowly, leaning closer to him, full thighs wrapping around his torso. megumi licks his lips, “good,” he matches you tone, falling forward to land another never ending kiss on your lips.