#god. what an effort that was but I'm happy with how it turned out

[maareyas]

a little animation I made as my contribution to the Kaleidoscopic Absolution @silverfanzine! [Go download it for FREE here!]

I think he should be allowed to just chill and let time pass by :^]

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[invoncible]

Ooo, I'm in love with how you write stuff for the series

Could I have something with a viltrumite reader that acts kinda like Beerus from dbz? Like she's all ready to have the plan be set in place but once she has a bite of the earth's most favorite comfort foods. She's suddenly all up for Earth's freedom

Like she'll fight off Nolan to keep her favorite donut shop from being put to rubble cause she make delicious cute animal shaped donuts

I'm not sure who you write for so you can do it for whoever you like

NOLAN GRAYSON & viltrumite!reader

— first time writing for the big man also idk if you wanted it to be like a relationship thing but i kept it kinda neutral

— trying to get through all these requests bear with me 😭

dubbed the 'god of destruction' by your own people was an impressive achievement, considering the average viltrumite was a higher being with a need for slaughter. your reputation preceded you, making you the perfect candidate to oversee the occupation efforts on earth.

you were sent alongside nolan to take the planet in the name of the viltrum empire. your ship crashed on that beach, and within minutes, a monster started to attack.

"not gonna help?" nolan hummed under his breath playfully. as if he needed help.

you didn't bother to respond—couldn't care less about the kaiju, more interested in what made this planet a topic of interest to your people. you flew into the city behind the shores, ignoring the screams of surprise below you as you touched down onto the roads and toppled a few cars onto their side.

you stalked into a nearby sweet shop, opening the door with such force it fell off its hinges.

you scoffed. "just how weak are you people?" you muttered, tossing the door to the ground.

the entire shop froze, unknowing if you were a superhero they haven't heard of or the last thing they'd see before death. you walked up to the counter, intrigued by the aromas wafting from the kitchen in the back.

"you. what is this?" your eyes drifted down to the steaming, sweet smelling treats underneath the glass.

the attendant trembled behind the till. "uhm... donuts?"

"give me one."

you were promptly handed a little baggie with a cute pink design on it, two glazed warm donuts safely packed inside. you ate one in two bites and unlocked a new level of happiness.

"this is good." you nodded as if you were performing a professional assessment. "kind of worthy of your meaningless lives."

"huh—?"

"don't worry about it," you waved the attendant off and left the store, flying to where nolan just finished cleaning up that kaiju. "want one?"

nolan raised his eyebrow. "looks cheap."

"i got it for free." you shrugged, offering the baggie to him. "i don't want to get rid of this planet anymore."

nolan's eyes narrowed. "it's barely been an hour."

"okay. and?" you swiped your fingers in the bottom of the baggie, colleting the sugar icing and licking your fingers clean. "what are you going to do, fight me?"

if you were to go up against nolan in a full fight he might give you some trouble, but in the end... you'd win.

he sighed. "i bet everything you'll change your mind."

"yeah, okay." you rolled your eyes, crumpling the bag and tossing it away.

in the next instant, you both turned to the sound of a helicopter touching down on the sand. a tiny man with a red tie jumped out of it, walking through the carnage with a surprising amount of indifference.

"littering is a criminal offense," he said, eyes darting down to the paper buried in the sand. "could have you fined for that."

"who are you?" nolan's voice was booming, and you snickered beside him. he always did that thing where he made himself sound more intimidating when going up against an unknown enemy.

"cecil stedman." he introduced himself. "you guys don't look like you're from around here."

nolan droned on and on about the cover story you memorized, how viltrum sent you two on behalf of the world betterment committee, and blah blah blah.

"okay," you put a hand on nolan's shoulder and tugged him away from the tiny old man. "let's go explore. there's gotta be more stuff like this." for the first time in your life, you were actually ... looking forward to something?

"wait—!" cecil yelled out, but was blown away by two sonic booms. he grunted in frustration and quickly retreated to his helicopter. back at the GDA, he reviewed the footage of his meeting with the two new players on his field.

"heart rate is elevated." donald informed him.

"yeah, i don't believe it for a second. 'world betterment committee?'" he scoffed a laugh. "talk about fairytale."

"and the other one, sir?"

cecil quirked a little smile as he caught the moment where you picked the baggie off the sand and tossed it in a bin. "nah, i think that one's okay. just keep them entertained and fed, and i think we've got a serious ally on our side."

© invoncible

[nerdygirlramblings]

Meghan Trainor's "Wrap Me Up" has me feeling some kinda way

poly!141 x fem!reader

"We'll be home by Christmas Eve," John sighs. It's been a long mission, made even harder being away from you at the holidays.

"Oh, John," your voice catches. You will not let him know you're about to cry. You take a deep breath and put as much love as you can into your reply. "That's the best gift I could ask for."

Half a world away, he smiles at his phone.

~~~

Two weeks later and you receive word from base the boys landed safely, and Johnny textes when they leave so you wouldn't be spooked when they troop through the door. That gives you a 40 minute window to make sure the gift you arranged is wrapped and under the tree.

You'd ordered takeaway from everyone's favorite kebab place. You know they would have preferred home cooking, and if it weren't so close to Christmas, you would have had a whole roast going for them, but you put effort into their gift and want it to be perfect.

You dash to the bathroom, arranging your hair to highlight the big red bow. Your makeup is understated, a barely there, natural glow accentuated with some gold glitter near your eyes.

Finally, you pull on the lingerie set you'd bought just for this. Red and lacy with ribbons holding most of it together. You'd practiced putting it on a few times already, making sure you could secure everything. As you tie the final bow, the one that held your breasts in, you dust more glitter across your collar and cleavage.

You are already wet, and the boys won't be here for another fifteen minutes.

You know how to take care of your boys, and this present was going to be as much for you as for them. You hadn't had a good orgasm the whole time they were gone. Even the toys they'd gifted you, molded from their cocks, weren't enough. Yes, they'd been together and thus not in so much of a dry spell as you, but you also knew quickies on cots and hand-jobs in the field were a far cry from what they wanted. What they craved. What they deserved.

A nice night at home, fucking, cuddling, and reconnecting would make everyone feel better.

You hear gravel crunch in the drive and lay yourself out on the area rug in the living room, white lights twinkling in the spruce behind you and a fire crackling behind the grate. You're grateful the house has a slight entryway with a wall hiding their Christmas surprise from immediate view. As a final touch, you turn on the radio low to some traditional holiday music.

The door opens and you hear bodies shuffle in, thuds as they drop their gear and remove their boots.

"Bonnie!" Johnny calls, tired but you hear the relief in his voice too, "We're home! Where are ye?"

You pitch your voice to carry over the music. "I'm in the living room." You watch their shadows move, and then there's a body in the doorway. It's Simon, his face bare in the safety of your home, searching for you and effectively blocking the others from seeing anything yet. He doesn't think to look at the floor, so you lightly say, "Happy Christmas, Si."

His eyes snap to you, and you watch the change come over him. He goes from weary to energetic in an instant. "Why isn' this a nice present," he says as he stalks to you. Kyle and Johnny follow him in and track his movement, clocking you immediately.

"God, doll," Kyle sighs. "What a sight you are." He too has a spring in his step you're sure was not there a moment ago.

Johnny moves so fast he's on his knees next to you before Simon reaches you. He stretches a hand out to pull the end of the ribbon across your chest, but you smack it away. When he pours, you simply say, "This is a present for everyone. No opening it without John."

"Oi, Cap! Get cher arse in here!" he bellows. Kyle and Simon are fully in the room, kneeling like Johnny, hungry, revenant looks on their faces. They haven't tried untying anything, but their hands twitch. You can tell they'd like nothing better than to pull open the bows and ribbons and lay you bare.

John finally comes in, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Until he finally pulls himself into the moment and sees you on the floor. His back straightens, shoulders unfurling. He stands larger in his frame. There is pure want in how he looks at you.

"Welcome home, Captain. Happy Christmas," you say, smile stretching wide. He starts walking as you continue. "You boys have been so good, I thought we could start with presents first this year."

John shoulders his way past the others, taking a space immediately in front of you. The others shuffle around to give him space and access.

"You said our return was the best gift you could ask for. Well, you're the best gift we could ever get." He leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss, one hand on your head and the other going to the bow Johnny tried to undo.

The others take it as permission to finally unwrap their present.

main masterlist

[jiexclusive1]

𐙚🧸ྀི cockwarming- l. haechan

boyfriend!haechan x reader, cock warming, somnophilia, dubcon, creampie, unprotected sex (no no), sex under the influence of alcohol, haechan is a bit selfish and begs.

MDNI!

W/c- 1.4k

a/n- I had to… happy vday y’all, mwah!

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You and Haechan had decided to stay in on a Friday night, both too exhausted from the week to do anything else. A movie and a few drinks seemed like the perfect way to unwind—except for one small problem.

Alcohol affected the two of you in completely different ways.

You were curled up against his shoulder, his arm draped lazily around you, fingers tracing slow patterns on your thigh. With every passing second his touch inched higher, his intentions clear. You tried to reciprocate, tried to match his energy, but your eyelids grew heavier, fluttering shut despite your efforts.

"Baby—" You mumbled, shifting slightly to look at him. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to sleep."

Haechan's lips parted in protest, his words slightly slurred. "But... but what about—you're just gonna leave me high and dry like this?"

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the couch with an unsteady sway. "Don't say it like that. I'm not leaving you anything—I'm just going to bed."

Without another word you stumbled toward your bedroom, leaving him pouting.

"But baby, I'm so horny." He whined, stumbling after you into the bedroom.

"Then fuck me Haechan." You shot back, suddenly turning to face him.

"How am I supposed to do that if you're just going to go to sleep on me?" He questioned, his lips curling into a slight pout as he looked at you.

You shot him a sly smirk before turning around, slipping your shorts down your legs and letting them pool at your feet. Without another word, you crawled into bed, the cool sheets brushing against your bare skin as you settled in, completely unfazed by his lingering stare.

"This isn't fair." Haechan huffed. "You can't just tell me to fuck you, take your clothes off, and then decide to go to sleep." He let out an exasperated sigh as he climbed into bed beside you, his body pressing close to yours

"I can, and I will." You murmured, tugging the covers up over your shoulders, settling in comfortably without a second thought.

"Fine, at least let me sleep with you." He sighed.

You nodded, allowing him to settle in behind you. His body pressed flush against yours, his bulge hard against your backside as his hand slipped over your waist, pulling you in closer.

The room fell into silence for a while, the only sound being your steady breathing as your eyes fluttered shut, but then Haechan shifted behind you, his body pressing more firmly against yours. He began grinding lightly against your ass, soft whiny moans escaping from his lips as he couldn't help but move, the feeling driving him crazy.

"Haechan." You said firmly, your voice low. "Stop."

"Can we at least cockwarm?" He asked, his voice full of frustration.

"Haechan—"

"Please." He pleaded, dragging out the word. "I'll leave you alone after that, I swear."

You sighed, rolling your eyes before nodding. "Fine, but that's it." Your voice held an edge of irritation, but it was hard to stay mad at him for long. He hummed softly in response, his hands gently pulling your underwear down, along with his own.

"Deal." He smiled.

He gently parted your legs, a shiver running through you as the cool air met your skin. 

Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groaned. He wrapped a hand around his length, teasing you as he slowly circled your clit. Your breath hitched as he finally aligned his tip with your aching entrance.

"Just put it—" Your words were cut off by a sharp gasp as he pushed himself into you, stretching you open in one slow thrust. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

"Oh my god." You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as a shiver of pleasure ran through you. 

"See? Doesn't that feel good?" He murmured. "I can make you feel even better." His lips brushed against your neck as he spoke, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He nuzzled into you, his nose grazing your skin.

"No. We had a deal, zip it." You shot back, your tone firm as you closed your eyes, shutting him out.

But—" He began, his voice hesitant.

"Go to sleep." You interrupted, your tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine." He sighed as he wrapped an arm around your waist before finally closing his eyes.

But how could he possibly sleep when he was buried so deeply inside you? Your tight walls pulsed around him, keeping him snug in your heat while the slick evidence of your arousal pooled at the base of his shaft.

How could he go to sleep when your breathing was heavy? He tried so hard— tried to go to sleep, but how could he when you would moan ever so slightly every time you moved a bit? 

He knew you were in a deep sleep at that point, and he didn't want to bother you. He really tried to ignore his urges, really, but he was so turned on it hurt. Plus, you did tell him to fuck you, so he's just doing what you asked.

He began to move his hips slowly at first, just testing the waters. Your body responded instantly, tightening around him in a way that almost had him unraveling right then and there, the sensation so overwhelming that he could feel himself on the brink.

"Fuck." He grunted lowly, the sound of it barely audible as he tried not to startle you. His movements quickened, becoming more urgent, the desperation in each thrust growing with every second.

A soft moan escaped you as your body shifted, the movement causing Haechan to react instantly.

He bit down on his lip, the pressure almost painful as he fought to stifle the moans threatening to escape. The way you shifted, grinding against him just enough sent a surge of heat through his body. He could only imagine you thought this was all just a vivid dream, but in that moment, he didn't care. He was lost in the feel of you, consumed by the need that took over him.

His hand flew to his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the whimpers that escaped him. His hips moved aimlessly against yours, each subtle shift sending waves of pleasure through him. His eyelids fluttered shut, lost in the sensation, trying to hold on as his body betrayed him.

"Oh my god." He breathed out in a soft whimper, his voice strained with desire. His hand moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he guided you back down onto him.

You didn’t know if it was him getting a little too rough and reckless with his movements, or if he thought he was being quiet as he moaned softly directly into your ear, but whatever it was the sensation snapped your eyes open, your breath hitching as you tried to focus on what was happening.

At first, you were confused, the overwhelming sensations leaving you unsure, but as he continued to move deeper inside you, a wave of pleasure followed, washing away any hesitation as your body responded to him.

"Haechan?" You moaned, your voice a mix of pleasure and confusion, the sensation making it hard to focus.

He didn't answer, instead using the moment to thrust harder, his movements growing quicker and more desperate. His whimpers became louder, the sound of them muffled as he nuzzled his head into your neck, losing himself in the moment.

"Didn't— didn't I say..." You started, but the words trailed off as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. He stretched you just right, it was intoxicating, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“G-Gonna cum." He stuttered, his voice breaking as his whimpers grew louder with each movement. His thrusts became messier as the pressure built inside him.

Your mind was a haze, barely able to process anything as the pleasure clouded your thoughts. You were still half asleep, your body reacting on instinct as you gripped the pillow beneath you, trying to steady yourself.

Fuck." He gasped, a choked whimper escaping him as you felt him twitch inside you. A warmth spread through you as he came, his release filling you as he rode out his orgasm, his movements messy and unsteady with each stroke.

He sat in silence, not pulling away, his hand sliding back up to your waist. You didn't speak either, your body still tingling, the heat pulsing around him. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut once more.

[hummingbird24220]

With your love for Various strawhats x reader I feel like sex pollen/aphrodisiac could be right up your alley. Reader comes across a strange plant or takes a strange drink from someone shady either way they come back to the ship and they realize that they have very attractive crew mates.

(You could make a short series with a one shot for what ever strawhat you want if you don't wanna do that then Sanji is always a good choice <3)

Sorry it took so long!!!!!! Ive been working on it for a while and tried not to go smut

i really love this. so many drafts have been archived where the plot is 'tee hee sex tea - NOW FUCK' thank you for your request! slightly NSFW . Fem reader implied.

Pollinated

One Piece x Reader (Slightly NSFW)

You hadn’t meant to bring chaos back to the ship.

It was supposed to be a relaxing walk. Just you, the island breeze, the sound of the ocean, and some nice, exotic plants you definitely couldn’t identify but looked cute enough to poke.

A little fuzzy puffball plant caught your eye. You touched it — it exploded into a shimmering cloud of golden dust.

You sneezed. Thought nothing of it.

Big mistake.

—

You staggered back onto the Thousand Sunny an hour later, head feeling a little hot and weirdly floaty. Your skin tingled like you were sunburned — but it wasn’t painful. More like... sensitive. Everything around you felt too bright, too sharp, and oh god, was it hot out here or was that just you?

“(Y/N)! You’re back!” Luffy beamed at you, running over in that happy, bounce-on-his-heels way he always did. “Didja find any cool stuff?!”

You opened your mouth to respond.

And then you saw him.

Luffy’s grin was dazzling, and his tanned skin glowed in the sun, and you were suddenly, painfully aware of just how hot he looked in that open red vest, muscles flexing as he tugged his hat down cutely.

Your brain made a skreee noise and short-circuited.

“I—uh—" You blurted out, "Found something really nice. Very... very nice.”

Luffy tilted his head, confused but delighted. "Cool!"

Before you could say anything else humiliating, Sanji showed up with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a tray of drinks.

“Oi, (Y/N)-chan~ You look flushed. Sun too much for your sweet skin?” He crooned.

Your gaze dropped helplessly to the way his sleeves were rolled up, forearms on full display, veins tracing delicious lines down to his hands—

You made a tiny choking sound.

"Nope!" you squeaked. "Just thinking about... hard things. I mean! Working hard! I'm fine!"

Sanji blinked, heart in his eyes because you were being adorable (he thought), and offered you a glass.

You took it with trembling fingers and turned — only to see Zoro leaning against the mast, casually glugging water over his head, droplets trailing down his chest.

You were gone. Ruined. Defenseless.

"Hnnng," you whined out loud before you could stop yourself.

Everyone paused.

Nami looked at you. Robin looked at you. Franky, Usopp, and Brook looked at you.

Even Zoro turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you right.

"Uhh... I think I’m getting a little sick," you croaked, practically vibrating with the effort not to stare at every beautiful, sweaty, shirtless crew mate in sight.

Chopper immediately jumped into doctor mode. "You're burning up!" He skittered over, worry in his big brown eyes. "Come on, let's get you inside! You might have a fever or sunstroke!"

"Y-yeah," you nodded quickly, squeezing your thighs together because even walking felt wrong. "Really burning up. Like a... like a fire. A raging inferno. So hot. So needy—"

"WHAT?" Sanji yelped, ears turning bright red.

"I mean NEEDY for water! Hydration! Ha ha!" you babbled, half laughing, half delirious. "Y'know, wet things—"

"OH MY GOD," Usopp muttered, face a mix of horror and second-hand embarrassment.

Chopper tugged your wrist urgently. "We need to get you cooled down right away!"

He dragged you toward the infirmary while you made increasingly less-sane comments.

"Bet the inside of the fridge feels so good," you muttered. "So cold and hard and—"

Chopper stopped in his tracks.

His ears twitched.

He slowly turned his head toward you, wide-eyed.

"Wait," he said slowly, blinking. "Did you... touch anything weird on the island?"

You nodded, dazed. "Pretty... gold plant. Smelled nice."

Chopper’s face drained of color.

"Sex pollen," he whispered.

You blinked, the words slowly swimming through your overheated brain.

"...Sex pollen...?" you echoed dreamily.

Chopper screamed.

"WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY!!"

-

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SEX POLLEN?!” Usopp shrieked, voice cracking straight into panic.

Chopper frantically flipped through one of his emergency medical books, flipping pages so fast they blurred. "It’s a rare kind of plant! It releases a dust that affects your brain chemistry — increases attraction, lowers inhibitions — basically, it makes you... uh..." He coughed into his hoof. "Desperate."

Sanji dropped his cigarette in horror. “ARE YOU SAYING (Y/N)-CHAN IS—?!”

You, meanwhile, were sitting on the infirmary bed, swinging your legs idly, watching the chaos unfold with a blissed-out smile.

“They’re all so pretty," you sighed dreamily. "Like... like a buffet. A sexy buffet.”

“OH MY GOD,” Usopp cried again, hiding behind Franky.

Robin tilted her head, elegant as ever, a tiny smile on her lips. “How fascinating.”

Nami grabbed Chopper by the shoulders. “Is it dangerous?!”

“It’s not fatal!” Chopper squeaked. “But if they don’t... relieve the symptoms somehow, the fever could get worse!”

"Relieve the—" Zoro started, then froze. His eye twitched violently. “Nope. Nope. Not gonna ask.”

The room was a mess of rising voices and frantic movement. In the middle of it all, you were slowly sliding off the bed, your mind swimming in a haze of hot skin and pretty faces and very, very wrong but very, very good ideas.

You stumbled toward Zoro first, your brain latching onto the first big, strong thing it saw.

"You look so strong," you murmured, running your hand up his bicep.

Zoro seized up like you’d hit him with a paralysis spell. His entire body locked stiff. You could practically hear the alarm sirens going off in his head.

“Uhh—" he croaked, backing up so hard he hit the wall. "No touching! Bad! Bad touching!"

You giggled, heat radiating off you in waves. "You could throw me around a little," you suggested, way too eagerly. "Bet you could pin me real good—"

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF—!!" Sanji screamed, bodily grabbing you and dragging you away from Zoro like you were a ticking time bomb.

“Be GENTLE, you brute!!” Sanji cried, cradling you in his arms like a princess while simultaneously sweating buckets. “(Y/N)-chan is delicate and— and full of... dangerous urges right now!!!”

You looped your arms around Sanji’s neck lazily, staring up at him through lidded eyes. "You smell so good," you purred. "Like something I'd like to bite."

Sanji promptly exploded into flames.

"BACKUP, I NEED BACKUP," he wailed.

Luffy, watching all this with sparkling curiosity, casually slung an arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, (Y/N)! If you’re that hot, maybe we can dunk you in the ocean!" he chirped.

You turned your head slowly.

Stared at him.

Grinned.

“You could dunk me," you said, voice low and dangerous. "You could dunk me all night."

"LUFFY, NO," Chopper screamed.

"NO DUNKING," Nami screamed.

"NO ANYTHING," Zoro yelled.

Brook, from the doorway: "May I suggest a cold shower? Yohohoho!!"

Franky: "Or I could just blast 'em with a water cannon! SUPER idea!"

Robin just chuckled behind her hand, clearly enjoying every second.

Sanji set you down so fast you nearly fell over, wringing his hands like he’d touched a live wire.

"OKAY," Chopper barked, voice cracking into a command. "Nobody touch (Y/N)! No flirting! No sexy talk! NO NOTHING!!"

You pouted. "But I feel so good," you whined. "All you beautiful people... I’m like a microwave right now. Somebody needs to shove something in me before I explode."

Dead silence.

Usopp's soul left his body.

Zoro turned and walked straight into a wall.

Sanji fell to his knees, blood spraying from his nose.

Chopper looked like he was about to faint.

Robin was absolutely cackling now, hiding it behind a polite hand.

After a beat, Luffy — still holding onto your shoulder — leaned in and asked very innocently:

"Hey, (Y/N)... are you dying?"

You blinked at him, warmth flooding your cheeks.

"...Only inside," you whispered dramatically, swaying.

Chopper stuffed a thermometer into your mouth in a blind panic.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. Temperature: 103°F.

"OH MY GOD," Chopper shouted. "IT’S GETTING WORSE!"

-

Chopper was panicking.

The thermometer beeped wildly as he yanked it out of your mouth and fumbled through his first-aid kit like it might magically contain an antidote for horny.

“(Y/N)’s temperature is still rising!!" he barked. "If this keeps up, they’ll overheat! We have to act fast!”

"How do we fix it?!" Usopp wailed, clutching his head. "We can’t just... let them die sexy!!"

You, meanwhile, were swaying dangerously, your eyes glassy, staring at anything and everything that moved.

No one was safe.

Not even Brook.

You stared at him dreamily.

"Hey, Brook..." you purred, voice thick with heat, "If you had skin, you'd be so handsome. Bet you'd have real good... bone structure."

Brook straightened his suit jacket awkwardly. "Yohoho... thank you?" He visibly struggled for a second. "May I see your p-p-panties?" he blurted out automatically.

Sanji punched him so hard he went flying off the deck.

"NOT NOW, YOU DAMN SKELETON!" Sanji roared.

You just smiled hazily after Brook's airborne form. "Take me with you..." you sighed wistfully.

—

Chopper ordered a cold water operation immediately.

Franky grabbed a hose and started spraying water at you.

It worked about as well as setting a horny cat on fire.

You moaned.

Loudly.

Like a scene.

Everyone froze.

Water dripped down your clothes, your hair slick against your cheeks, and you tipped your head back with a sinful noise that should not have come out of you.

"Hnnnngh, cold and wet all over—"

"TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF!!" Nami shrieked, slapping the hose out of Franky's hand.

You blinked innocently, water running down your body, clinging to your clothes in all the wrong places.

Sanji fainted.

Zoro headbutted the mast just to distract himself.

Usopp hid behind a barrel and started praying.

Robin, for the first time in her life, actually visibly stiffened.

You turned to her, pupils blown wide.

"Robin," you sighed. "You're so... refined. So elegant. So—so... dominantly soft."

Robin smiled, but even she looked a tiny bit flustered. "My, what a sweet compliment."

You reached for her.

Nami tackled you to the ground before you could touch the scholar.

"DON'T CORRUPT ROBIN," she yelled, sitting on your chest to pin you.

Your hands instinctively grabbed her thighs for balance, squeezing her in ways that made everyone around you freeze again.

You looked up at her from your pinned position and purred, "You’re so strong. Maybe you should sit on me a little harder, Navigator~"

Nami flushed bright red, looking like she'd seen God and hated it.

She scrambled off you like you were made of lava.

"NOPE!!" she yelped. "YOU'RE BEYOND SAVING!!"

You just laid there on the deck, panting softly, eyes lidded.

The sunlight haloed your figure, water still dripping from your hair, your lips pink and parted, your shirt clinging scandalously to your chest.

Luffy plopped down cross-legged beside you, still completely missing the point.

"Maybe we just have to wait it out," he said brightly. "Like when you get stung by a jellyfish!"

"THAT’S NOT HOW SEX POLLEN WORKS," Chopper sobbed, clutching his head.

"But what if (Y/N) explodes?" Luffy asked, looking fascinated.

Chopper stared at you.

You smiled lazily at him.

You licked your lips.

Chopper screamed again.

"WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!"

-

“Okay, okay, OKAY!" Chopper gasped, holding his tiny hooves out like he could stop the rolling disaster you had become. "New plan: (Y/N) needs to think about gross stuff!"

You blinked at him lazily from the deck, soaked, flushed, and vibrating with feral energy.

"Gross stuff?" you repeated, slurring a little.

"Yeah!!" Usopp said, jumping out from behind his barrel hideout. "Like... uh... cockroaches! Moldy bread! Sweaty old gym socks!"

"Rotting fish!" Franky offered, super helpfully.

"An old man's toenails!" Brook chimed from where he was tangled in the rigging.

Everyone started shouting gross things at you, like the weirdest, most desperate intervention in history.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to focus.

Gross stuff. Gross stuff. You pictured... maggots. Rotting meat. Sweaty gym socks.

You shuddered.

It was working!

...Until your stupid, pollen-fogged brain twisted it.

Maggots? Squirmy. Could be hands.

Rotting meat? Hot. Sticky. Messy.

Sweaty gym socks?

You pictured someone's strong arms pinning you down, their body hot and sweaty over yours, panting into your ear—

You whimpered.

Everyone stopped talking.

You cracked an eye open.

"Didn't work," you rasped, voice ruined and wrecked. "Got worse."

Sanji made a noise like a teakettle blowing.

Zoro grabbed a bucket of cold water and dumped it over his own head.

Robin politely looked away, though her cheeks were pink.

—

"PLAN B!" Chopper screeched, losing his tiny mind.

Franky and Luffy manhandled you toward a big barrel filled with ice water.

"You need an ice bath!" Chopper insisted. "Lower your body temperature!"

"Mm," you purred as the boys dragged you over. "If you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked."

Franky short-circuited. "BWAHH??!"

Luffy, bless his pure soul, grinned like you just told him a great joke. "You’re funny, (Y/N)!"

The ice bath was ready.

Nami hovered nearby, arms crossed, glaring at you like you were a radioactive bomb.

"I am so sorry about this, (Y/N)," Chopper said grimly.

You grinned up at him.

"Wanna watch?" you teased.

Nami slapped you upside the head so fast it cracked like a gunshot.

You moaned.

"Harder," you gasped, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Nami looked like she was going to strangle you and then drown you.

Sanji nearly died on the spot, nosebleeding out into the ocean.

Brook started reciting funeral rites for him.

“PUT THEM IN!!” Chopper shrieked.

Luffy and Franky hoisted you up and dunked you straight into the freezing barrel.

You shrieked — a high, inhuman sound — and popped back up like a cork, gasping, water and ice clinging to you.

"Cold!!" you cried. "Cold and tight and wet—"

"DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT!!" Usopp wailed.

You squirmed in the barrel, legs kicking, arms flailing, looking way too sinful for a situation that was supposed to be medical.

Zoro buried his face in his arms and muttered prayers to gods he didn’t even believe in.

Robin, watching calmly, finally spoke up.

"...Maybe we should just knock them out."

Everyone turned to her.

There was a moment of pure, golden silence.

Then:

"YES," Chopper barked, already reaching into his medical bag for a syringe.

You noticed too late.

"Wait— wait, guys—" you started, realizing what was coming. You tried to climb out of the barrel, water streaming down you like some kind of ruined siren. "I’m fine! I swear! Just need—just need one of you to rail me into next week and I'll be—"

Thunk.

Chopper jabbed the tranquilizer into your arm with all the righteous fury of a doctor pushed to his limit.

You sagged instantly, slumping back into the barrel with a blissful little sigh.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a lazy smile curling your lips.

"...Harder," you mumbled dreamily one last time before passing out.

—

The entire crew stood in stunned, exhausted silence, staring at your unconscious, soaking-wet body.

Sanji collapsed face-first onto the deck.

Zoro shoved his swords under the deck rail so he wouldn't accidentally commit murder.

Luffy just laughed and poked your cheek. "They’re all floppy now! Like a sea cucumber!"

Chopper wiped his brow. "Finally," he sighed. "Crisis averted."

Franky gave a low whistle. "That was SUPER insane."

Robin sipped her tea. "It was... certainly educational."

Nami sat down hard, running a hand through her hair.

"I am never letting (Y/N) out of sight again," she growled.

Usopp just nodded weakly. "Same."

Brook played a slow, mournful tune.

The Thousand Sunny bobbed peacefully on the waves, as if nothing at all had happened.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was pain.

A dull, throbbing headache pulsed behind your eyes. Your mouth tasted like saltwater and regret. Your limbs were heavy, your body sticky and weirdly sore, like you’d run a marathon, gotten dunked in a washing machine, and then lost a fight with a fridge.

The second thing you noticed was smell.

Something was cooking — eggs, bacon, fresh bread — the kind of smells that tugged you out of bed on pure instinct.

Groaning, you staggered to your feet, blinking blearily around Chopper’s infirmary. A thin blanket was tossed over you, and your clothes (still damp from... something?) clung uncomfortably to your skin.

God, what happened? you thought, holding your head.

Last thing you remembered was... going for a walk? Finding a shiny plant?

Everything else was a blank.

Following the siren song of Sanji’s breakfast, you stumbled into the dining room.

The entire crew was already gathered, plates stacked high.

As you shuffled inside like a zombie, every single head turned toward you.

The room went dead silent.

You froze.

"...Uh," you croaked intelligently. "Morning?"

No one answered.

They just stared.

Luffy had a massive, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Usopp’s mouth twitched like he was holding back screams. Zoro wouldn’t meet your eyes — just shook his head slowly. Robin smiled over her coffee like she was already writing your obituary. Sanji looked like he was halfway between fainting and proposing marriage. Brook tipped his hat solemnly. Franky gave you a very slow thumbs-up. Chopper blushed furiously and avoided your gaze. Nami looked like she was planning your funeral.

"...What?" you rasped, feeling sweat prickle your back.

Nami stood up from her seat, arms crossed.

"You," she said, voice dripping with menace, "owe us an apology."

"For what?!" you yelped, looking around wildly.

Robin sipped her coffee and said, perfectly calm: "You told Brook he had very sexy bone structure."

You choked.

"And you asked Sanji if he wanted to 'shove something in you' before you exploded," Zoro added, deadpan, without even glancing up.

You made a strangled noise.

Franky pointed at you. "You moaned when I hosed you down!"

"LOUDLY," Usopp emphasized.

Luffy, grinning ear to ear, jumped in cheerfully: "And you told Nami to sit on you harder! That was super funny!"

You stared at them all in growing horror, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

"No... no way..." you mumbled, clutching your head. "You’re messing with me. You have to be messing with me."

Robin placed a hand gently over her heart, smiling. "I only wish I was."

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face, feeling like you might die from pure secondhand embarrassment alone.

"Okay," you muttered defensively, voice cracking, "listen... you can’t blame me! I was—poisoned!”

Nami’s chair scraped back.

You barely had time to see her move before her arm was around your neck in a practiced chokehold.

"Poisoned, huh?" she hissed, no mercy in her beautiful, vengeful eyes. "You listen to me, you little disaster—"

You choked on a laugh and wheezed, "Harder—wait, NO, I MEAN—!"

Nami growled and tightened the choke, dragging you down into a headlock while the entire crew absolutely lost it laughing.

"You are going to a nunnery," Nami hissed in your ear, ignoring your flailing. "I’m shipping you off first thing tomorrow! You’ll never see another hot person again!"

"Maybe the nuns are hot," you croaked, grinning even as you were being strangled.

"CHOPPER, GET THE TRANQ," Nami bellowed.

"Noooo!" you wailed, squirming. "I’ll be good! I swear!!"

The crew howled with laughter as Nami dragged you away in a chokehold, shouting threats about convents, chastity belts, and ice-cold showers forever.

Somewhere behind you, Luffy piped up:

"Hey, (Y/N)! If you go to a nunnery, can we come visit and make you explode again?"

You screamed.

Everyone else did too — with laughter.

And somewhere deep down... you knew you were never living this down.

Ever.

[aevellewritessometimes]

Touchstarved NSFW Headcanons

Just some general NSFW HCs for the main cast (because Elyon and Sen are both enigmas to me)

I'm just going to preface this by saying that @/creepsterdreams just happened to hit the nail right on the head with what I was thinking. Unrealated note, y'all should check out their work if you ever get the chance :)

Content Warnings: Mildly unconventional kinks? (we don' kinkshame here though), blatant Vere favoritism, may or may not be OOC, this whole thing was written by an aspec person, most of this was written at 12 am while sleepy

Edit: I took the opportunity to try and fix some previously missed typos, and after I finished I found out that the Pope fucking died. Happy Easter!

Word Count: 2,010

MINORS DNI

KURAS

Alignment: Vers + Switch

Kinks: Body worship (giving), cockwarming, lingerie, soft sex, masochism

Due to his height, he's more used to domming and/or topping by default, but he doesn't really have anything against being the submissive one

That being said, I get masochist vibes from him. He's usually good at not showing that side of him, but it's also not all that hard to get him to show it

Not too apposed to being on the receiving end of body worship, but just feels weirdly guilty about it

^ Combining body worship with his masochistic tendencies could potentially get him to cry, which is otherwise difficult because I feel like he has really high endurance

Soft dom/service top vibes

Has a much larger lingerie collection than one would expect

^ It's not crazy large or anything, it's just that most people wouldn't expect him to have one to begin with

I don't know if he needs to sleep at all, but in a situation where both he and his partner are in the mood but his partner is too tired to actually have sex with him, he'd be very open to just cockwarming either until they fall asleep or they get riled up

Due to him disliking "difficult patients," I feel like an excessive amount of bratiness would be a bit of a turnoff for him

Would absolutely be the type to light candles to set the mood

(^ Don't ask me about what types/scents; I don't use candles often enough to give you a good answer)

Corruption kink is also a turnoff for him as of "present day." However, I do see a chance of this changing depending on how his endings alter his character by the end of the game

Knows how to make his own lube and protection/contraceptives and is a God at aftercare

LEANDER

Alignment: Switch + Vers

Kinks: Bondage (domming + subbing), praise (giving + receiving), degradation (mostly receiving), temperature play, semi-public sex, aphrodisiacs, corruption kink

Generally prefers subbing, but there are a few scenarios where he'd rather dom

^ Those scenarios can range from anywhere between specific kinks to who he's sleeping with

Would be the type to swap roles mid-sex if that's what he and his partner both want

Is very good at tying and untying knots

^ Has once tried to use his magic for bondage purposes, but it turned out to be much more flammable than anticipated. Kuras still gives him shit for that time he and his friend had to rush to the clinic at one in the morning due to third degree burns

Make him do some honor bondage if you really wanna torture him

Has tried cockwarming on multiple occasions; never has the patience to stay still for very long

Would generally be willing to degrade his partner if that's what they're into, but his overall comfort with doing so entirely depends on his relationship with them outside of sex

Would be the type to mix praise and degradation in the same sentence

Also gives me masochist vibes, but is much more willing to admit it than Kuras

^ Doesn't really outright say it, but also doesn't put too much effort into hiding it

Probably has a lower back tattoo

The pierced nipples are canon in my mind, fight me

If his partner is someone he's trying to keep close (*cough* MC *cough*) then he's definitely going to bring out the subtle corruption kink

^ Doesn't matter if he's the dom or sub, one way or another he's going to figure out how to corrupt them

Knows how to make his own aphrodisiacs. Shockingly enough, he doesn't do anything crazy with them, but nobody really trusts him enough to test that out (except for Ais that one time)

^ Also knows how to make his own contraceptives. They're effective but they taste weird. Has tried and frequently failed to make his own lube; it always turns out concerningly chunky

Has a very expensive toy collection

VERE

Alignment: Circumstantial

Kinks: Predator/prey roleplay (theoretically), corruption kink, hypnosis (domming), pet play (domming), degredation (mostly giving), praise (mostly recieving), vocalness, bloodplay, lingerie, orgasm control (domming + subbing), dacryphilia, sensory deprivation, biting, sadomasochism, breeding (occasional)

His alignment is fully dependent of his relationship with his partner outside of sex

^ Casual fling? Definitely a dom, most likely a top. Close friend/romantic partner? Vers switch who prefers to dom

Enjoys the idea of predator/prey roleplay, but Eridia is just too crowded with people and Soulless for him to indulge in it as much as he'd like

^ Sure, both situations would be easy for him to handle, but having to suddenly halt everything to disembowel something/someone just ruins the mood, especially if it ends up putting his partner in danger

Very prevalent corruption kink. Something something false idol stuff

^ He doesn't care much about the concept of virginity, but if his partner is 1) someone he actually gives a fuck about and 2) a virgin, then he's definitely going to make something out of it for the sake of said corruption kink

Hypnosis and pet play are the two scenarios that he is strictly the dom for when they come up; both kinks spawning from the fact that he, who was once revered as a god, has been brought down to be something lesser than what he probably once considered as pawns means that he takes great pleasure in seeing someone being so willing to allow themself to become something lesser just for the sake of worshiping him, even if it's only temporary

^ Also, I feel like Vere being able to hypnotize people is just canon. Not to start theory posting, but given that the eyes for his monster silhouette look almost like spirals if you squint, his voice was described as "so supple I could slip into it" (or something along those lines), and there's two scenes where he seems to mess with the shadows to keep MC from looking anywhere except directly into his eyes… yeah this guy has to at least know how to hypnotize people, if he doesn't have some kind of hypnosis-based powers

Not necessarily apposed to dishing out praise, he's just more of an "actions over words" type and generally prefers to be on the receiving end

^ If the praise feels condescending and/or overly sappy it will just end up being a turnoff

^^ Despises the phrase "good boy" being used on him

Is willing to be degraded, but saying the wrong thing on the wrong day is a very easy way to damage your relationship with him

^ It is also possible for him to say the wrong thing on the wrong day as well. Honestly, I think it could be a very likely scenario

Knows he looks good in blood, but also likes seeing his partner in blood when given the option

Is the one with the truly impressive lingerie collection, although he doesn't actually have many toys

^ Does own some absurdly expensive lube though

Two quick facts about foxes: they're very vocal when having sex and they're the most active during winter

I imagine that Vere, no matter his role or position, is vocal in some way, shape, or form; whether it be crying or moaning or talking or even screaming

The little winter tidbit makes me think that Vere becomes a bit more sadistic and significantly hornier during the winter months; sees it as a great way to keep warm blow off some steam while waiting for the horrid season to come to an end

^ Temporarily develops a breeding kink during this time, but it goes away as the snow starts melting

^^ If he's closer with his partner in this circumstance, he would absolutely steal some contraceptives from Kuras for his partner if they were to be needed. Yes, he knows they could just ask and get it for free, but why skip out on the opportunity to be a thorn in the doctor's side?

Loves making his partner scream

Always leaves at least one bite mark for his partners to remember him by

^ The amount left and the placement depends on his level of closeness outside of sex

Overall enjoys most forms of power play, but he needs to be in a specific mindset to willingly be the submissive one'

^ Doesn't see the appeal in age play, though. Like, at all. Hard no for him

AIS

Alignment: Vers + Switch

Kinks: Brat taming (domming + subbing), sadomasochism, voyeurism (?), intox kink, bloodplay, choking (domming), shibari (domming + subbing), biting (giving + receiving), dacryphilia, orgasm control (domming + subbing), size kink

First thing's first; the groupmind may or may not be a potential factor for his sex life, depending on how exactly it works

^ For instance, if Ocudeus or the other groupmind members are able to. Like. Perceive things from Ais's perspective, then voyeurism is going to be an aspect of his sex life and there's little he can do about it

Moving on: also generally doms by default; partially due to his size, but also because he's the type to test if whoever's trying to dom him is actually assertive enough to do so

^ Hence why he's such a (literally) massive brat

Judging by how he feels about MC's and Vere's shitty personalities, him being into brats is just a given

There's also some subtle corruption kink going on, but unlike in Vere and Leander's case, it's not intentional on his end

Slightly prefers being bitten over biting his partner

Strongly prefers drug intox over alcohol intox when it comes to intox play

Prefers shibari over regular bondage because he's a fan of the patterns

^ Oddly enough, he isn't that big of a lingerie fan; he doesn't have anything against it, he just prefers full nudity

Impact play is a strong turnoff for him, though most other forms of pain play are generally on the table for him

Choking isn't something he indulges in often, partially because he doesn't like being choked and partially because he is very aware of his own strength; won't even make an attempt if he's having angry sex

Better at aftercare than most people tend to expect

MHIN

Alignment: Circumstantial

Kinks: Size kink (domming), predator/prey play (domming; deeply internalized), knife play (domming), bondage (domming + subbing), honor bondage (subbing), hypnosis (subbing), brat taming (domming), overstim (subbing), soft sex

Wouldn't sub for a fling. They also wouldn't want to bottom for a fling, either; nor would they want to bring any strong kinks into bed for them

If their partner is someone they trust, then they would honestly much rather be the submissive one

They've stumbled across topics such as hypnosis or predator/prey kinks in books, but they've never actually tried them in real life, despite both topics peaking their interest

^ Due to recent circumstances, they actually feel quite guilty about having a predator/prey kink these days, rather than just feeling a bit embarrassed

Enjoys domming a partner who is shorter than them, really enjoys domming a partner who is taller than them

Finds the presence of ropes oddly comforting, but also enjoys testing their own patience with honor bondage

As much as they like control, allowing someone else to take the reins so that they can take a break is just as pleasurable for them

^ Sometimes a bitch just needs to shut down their brain for a bit

Isn't really a fan of knife play in the leaving marks/drawing blood way, but they do like just lightly dragging a knife across their partner's body

Another one who knows how to make protection/contraceptives, but doesn't know how to make effective lube

[saycheeeese]

Learn to Love Yourself

୨୧ Though this is for my Nanami fans, this post is specifically for my readers who struggle with body images and EDs. Remember, you're beautiful just the way you are! ୨୧

Food was your enemy. Whenever you heard of an event, you immediately found other places to be. You began to withdraw from social gatherings, and slowly ceased midnight snacking.

Nobody noticed. Nobody, that is, except for your God-sent husband.

Nanami often walked in to you body-checking yourself, or weighing on the scale, or reading the nutrition labels on foods. He never said anything, just retreated out of the room, lips pursed and one more wrinkle added to his forehead.

But you did find sticky notes on the most random surfaces in the house. You try to pry open a container of green tea, and a neon green sticky note with a message "You're so beautiful" would be pasted over the nutrition value label.

This silent war went on, you avoiding food, your weight drastically falling. In a matter of months, your sunken cheekbones pierce through your skin and your eyebags turn hollow, your shoulders sharp and pointed and collarbones eerily visible. Your hairline recedes dangerously and you can count almost each of your ribs, but that's okay, isn't it? Beauty is pain and beauty is everything. Or so you thought.

One day, when Nanami had finally had enough, he strolled into the bedroom where you'd taken refuge in after fleeing the dinner table. You'd said you hadn't an appetite, and silently withdrawn, your mashed potatoes and gravy going cold on your plate, untouched, along with the apple juice. You'd sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone, bitterly looking at photos of women with perfect appearances.

"Care to tell me what is bothering you, my love?" His voice is unusually soft, as if treading over dangerous territory. He crosses the distance in three long strides, perching on the bed beside you, taking your delicate hands in his strong, warm ones.

"Hm?" You look up absentmindedly, tears burning your throat as you repeatedly think, why am I the only one who has to do effort to be pretty? "Nothing."

He scoffs. Actually scoffs. "Don't give me that attitude, love. Tell me exactly what's wrong?"

"Like I said, nothing is-"

He sighs, shoulders sagging. "My love, darling wife, are you under the impression that I have not noticed you skipping your meals? That I am blind to the way your bones are becoming ever so prominent, that I have to make more effort to hug you tightly? Please, my love, tell me what's wrong. As your husband, I swear I will not judge you."

You loose a tight breath and fiddle with your fingers. "I ... Nanami, do you think I'm ... pretty?"

Nanami looks up at you, eyes sharpening beneath his glasses. Not in anger, but focus. Concern. Attention. The kind of gaze that weighs truth and chooses words carefully. He shifts closer to you, squeezing your hands once. Then he stands slowly. Waits a few seconds. And then pivots to you, his strong frame towering over you, yet the softest expression is on his face.

"I think," he begins, "you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

You shift, folding your arms over your chest. "You're just saying that to make me happy."

"No," he intervenes, his voice pleading. "I don't say things I don't mean." He inhales, closing his eyes, then opens them and smiles at you. A genuine, earth-shattering smile, warmer than a summer noon and sweeter than honey. "When you smile - really smile, not that polite one, I forget how sentences work. When you’re upset, your face scrunches right here,” he brushes a knuckle under your eye, tentatively, “and I want to rewrite the whole world just to ease it."

You look down, blinking fast. His finger slips under your chin and tilts it upwards, your eyes locking on his.

“You don’t have to look like anyone else,” he continues, quietly. “You’re not a painting to be judged. You’re the home I come back to."

"But-"

"It always surprises me, looking at you. Like staring at something the heavens shouldn't have made real. And if I say I am blessed to have you, the angel, the gift from heaven, the deity I always heard of but never saw until you entered my life, then it would be an understatement. I wish you could see you the way I do; then you'd fall in love with every infinitesimal detail of yours, the way you speak, the lilt in your voice, your accent, your eyes, the swing of your arms, your little dance when you like your food, that small scrunch on your nose whenever you're thinking, your eyelids drooping if you're angry, your nervous fidgeting and biting? My love, my sweetheart, my dearest wife, the light of my life; I have so much yet so little to say about your beauty. But ..." He takes a breath.

"God, I still cannot believe what did I do to deserve you. All I know is, I am forever grateful to you for making me believe in love, cradling my heart and promising me sweet rivers in heaven and bright stars in the sky; but I was not fazed or moved by your promises - it was you that made me crazy for you, your love. When you smile at me, like there is no one else in the world, no other men you prefer, it feels as if my heart would explode. My dearest treasure, my own Goddess, can you believe how hard is it to not kiss you whenever I see you? You may think you are imperfect, but for me, you are the standard, the beauty standard, and no other woman can be like you. You... you're impossible to get tired of, to forget, to get over."

"You ask if you’re beautiful like it’s a simple thing, like your beauty could ever be contained in a single word. If you were a sunset, people would bleed their fingers climbing cliffs just to watch you from a better angle, snapping pictures until their batteries died and their eyes still wouldn’t be full. If you were a painting, artists would curse their own hands, envy the God who sculpted you, and burn their brushes because nothing they create could ever compare, because you're the kind of stunning that makes artists want to pause, stare at you with their mouths open for an eternity and they still wouldn't want to go, still wouldn't be able to paint you, forever be envious that God made someone like you, and they cannot create an artwork close to capturing your beauty. If you were a poem, libraries would go silent when your name was whispered, and every stanza would be memorized like scripture. The stars would rearrange themselves to mimic the curve of your smile, and flowers would grow in your footsteps just to say they bloomed near you. Birds would forget how to sing when you spoke, and time itself would stutter just to catch another glimpse of you. You are not beautiful. You are beyond it. You are the ache in every artist’s chest, the line every poet dies trying to write. So no, don’t ask me if you’re beautiful. Ask me if the ocean envies your depth, or if the heavens pause to marvel when you pass. Ask me if I still remember how to breathe when you look at me like that … and the answer will always be no. And if you believe you are not the alluring siren I fell in love with, whom I devoted my life to, then let me prove it to you."

Nanami gently releases your chin, dropping his finger to your collarbone. He wipes away every tear rolling down your cheek, then kisses each side softly, cradling your face with a tenderness reserved only for you. His nimble fingers make quick work of your blouse's buttons, then, with one look at you, he slowly slips it off your shoulders.

You inhale sharply, ashamed that he is seeing your imperfections, the bones and curves, but all you can find in his eyes is affection so potent it steals the breath from your chest. He trails his fingers down your torso before gently undressing your skirt, then drops to his knees.

He raises his head, looking at you with a reverence found in a person kneeling in front of their deity. He cups a warm hand around the back of your thigh, then brushes his lip against your leg. A gasp crawls out of your burning throat, embarrassment flushing your face; but in Nanami's eyes, you're perfect, the embodiment of perfection.

He worships your body, slowly, gradually, leaving a trail of kisses along your leg, burning fire in their wake. He pauses. "I love everything about you. Your long legs, no matter how thick or thin they are, as long as they're yours (he chuckles, hot breath fanning your thigh). I wish you could see yourself the way I do, the way I'm doing now. I want you to remember me, remember this, whenever you look at yourself. The next time you look at yourself in the mirror, maybe you'll recall this memory of me, the words I said."

He resumes his ascent, rising on his knees, placing kisses across your abdomen as he holds you tight, like he fears you might disappear if he doesn't hold you close. The entire way, until he reached your neck, he kept saying words of affirmation, encouragement, devotion, telling you how pretty you are, what a hold you have on him, and when he teasingly - yet gently - clamps his teeth down on your fluttering pulse, he lowers you on the bed, lips on yours, devouring you dotingly, before pulling away.

"Stay there, my love; I'm coming back." With that, he exits, hands in his pockets. You bolt up on the bed, throwing a silk robe over your figure, frantically searching for a mirror - when you find it, you rise on your knees and glance at your reflection: hair cascading down to just above your waist, face gaunt and limned with pale moonlight and the scant luminescence of the single light bulb on, your body flawed and warped in your eyes. The door knob squeaks, and you plump down on the bed, the air whooshing out of the pillows.

Nanami flashes you a smile before rounding the bed and sitting beside you. He extends a plate towards you, and your heart plummets. He can evidently see the terror on your face, because in one swift move, he turns you around and holds you in his arms. The plate of chocolate-covered strawberries sits innocently in front of you.

"You once told me, you loved chocolate covered strawberries, right?" He softly says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You gulp. "You said you could eat them all day. Now, I know what is up with you. Food is not your enemy." He says a bit sternly, before grinning. "So, to help you fix your relationship with eating, I made these for you myself. Don't worry, I cook real good. I ... hope this whets your appetite, even if it surfaces trepidation about the fact you'll "gain weight". These are healthy, have low calories, aren't cheesy or fried, but who cares, right? Life is short, eat what you want. I chose this dish because it's easy to start your recovery with a simple snack like this. Please, eat. Y/n, can you eat this for me?" He looks at you with puppy eyes for the first time since you've seen this no-bullshit man, which makes you choke a strained laugh.

With trembling fingers, you pick up a strawberry. So much chocolate, so much sugar... But Nanami wraps a hand around yours, grounding you, and stills. He waits, waits for you to give a signal, so that he knows he's not forcing you to eat. You nod, words vanishing, and he guides your hand to your mouth. You nibble the strawberry, taking the smallest bite, and he beams at you, the most genuine, blinding smile, like he is so proud, so happy. You give him a close-lipped smile, and he picks up a strawberry himself. He looks at you, then takes a small bite. Eating with you.

"You know, the more you eat, the more I get to eat," he winks at you, bringing out a faint color in your cheeks. You understood what he meant, and he smirks back at you before picking up another drizzled fruit.

In half an hour, you've eaten three strawberries, Nanami's eyes wet with tears, like a proud father. You laugh out loud at that, and he nuzzles his face into your neck. You realize he's keeping you busy and distracted so you can't burn the food off, or throw it up, take in some medicines. You instinctively shoot a hand to your stomach, biting your lip in worry, but he shakes his head. "Do you think you could love me if I wasn't slim and thin?"

Nanami looks at the glasses in his hands, as if mulling over his answer. "I loved you then, and I love you now, but if this keeps on, will there be you left to love?"

You sigh, and Nanami places a kiss on your forehead. "You look so cute when you're eating. Come back to me, y/n. Please. I miss you."

You nod. "I - I'll try. I'll try for you, my love. Just, stay with me."

"I will stay with you every step of the journey, every second, and if you ever feel scared, just know there is a man who is happy you're alive. I don't care how you look. I married you for your heart, for who you are. Just some fat or muscle couldn't make me change my mind." He scoffs. "I have an idea. How about we do movie night tonight?" He glances at you, asking for affirmation, and after months and months of avoiding him, you finally decide it's time. Time to love yourself, love him, and spend a life full of joy, not constant anxiety and body-checking.

And now, tucked in beside Nanami on the couch, watching a newly-released movie, you can see the path to recovery glimmering. And he is there, every step with you.

[bunni-v1]

How to Make a Memorable Birthday

🍓Dog, this is later than I wanted, but I was actually slaving over this thing for days. Like, I'm a disaster over this piece, it's actually killing me. I have no idea if it even ended up GOOD, I just wanted to write something vaguely marathon sex-ish for his birthday. Please, god, don't be mean to me I will cry.

TW: NSFW (duh); Marathon sex; Rough(ish) sex; Mention of dumbification; titty sucking (amen); Caleb is refered to as puppy and doglike once or twice (not verbally); grammar and spelling errors probably; weak attempts at summarizing parts of his card

Info: Caleb x Reader; Card Based (No Return Night); Smut with the sprinkling of plot

Word Count: 5.8k

It was difficult to make a unique birthday experience for someone like Caleb. You’d known him for so long that you’d already tried most things out by the time he turned twenty. On top of that, he had so many friends who adored him that most of your efforts felt like they’d get lost in the sea of good wishes. Not to mention the fact that he always insisted that he loved everything you’d gotten him, so you never knew if he actually liked it or if he was just being his usual dismissive self.

Today, this birthday, felt different. It was just the two of you all day, no one else to bother you. You’d done everything in your power to make him feel as special as he makes you feel; The restaurant, the movie, the gifts were all chosen carefully to prove that you could make today perfect. More for yourself than him, but he always said what made you happy made him happy, so you could dismiss your selfishness for now.

Truthfully, everything was perfect. Nothing went wrong; he loved everything and told you so. So, why did you feel so unfulfilled? You’d done everything to make it special, and it was special… yet… it didn’t feel that way. Anyone could’ve done those things for him, and sure you did, but that wasn’t the point. How could you give him something memorable, something he wants more than anything in the world? Something only you could offer him.

Something glints in your peripheral vision, the purplish tin of candy catching your eye. Sour and sweet candies you’d picked up on a whim earlier, craving something sweet to suck on while you were alone tonight. You pick it up, observing the tin curiously, flipping it this way and that in your hands. It was the same color as Caleb’s eyes, and it made you realize how much you missed him. You had just seen him; he was literally down the hall, but you missed him.

Clutching the candies to your chest, you sigh and give in to your wants for once. You’d just go downstairs for a little bit, just to see if he was down there, and if he wasn’t, you’d come back up and get ready for bed. Ingenious.

You tiptoe down the stairs, wanting to keep quiet for some reason. You’re grateful for the decision, because you get to stop at the bottom of the stairs and see quite the sight. Caleb is, unsurprisingly, still sitting on the couch. Sprawled comfortably, fingers tapping rhythmically on the throw pillow next to him, like he’s been waiting for you to see him. He’s almost contemplative, holding the necklace you’d given him up, stroking the metal with a kind of affection you don’t think you’ll ever understand. It makes butterfly wings flutter in your stomach, leaving you breathless as you admire him.

He doesn’t say anything to you, he doesn’t even look your way, but you know he’s aware of you. He’s always aware of you. It’s his secret sixth sense, one you were equal parts grateful and resentful of. Glancing down at the candies, you mentally scold yourself for how silly you were acting. Coming down here without reason was enough to make you feel dumb, but his knowing was a whole other reason to feel ridiculous. Backing out now wasn’t an option, but maybe you could get away with a little white lie. You walk up to him quietly, the quiet sound of your feet padding across the hardwood floor loud in the silent air.

He looks up to you when you’re at his side, smirking like he was in on a secret you weren’t aware of, “Is this the post-credits scene?”

You tap your fingers against the tin, reminding yourself to stay stronger than your racing heart, “...I just remembered I haven’t given you your gift yet.”

“Right,” He leans forward, looking at you expectantly, “Well, I’m here.”

Another wave of nervousness floods through your gut. What exactly were you thinking again? What did you want, coming down and hoping he was here? You knew the answer, of course, but it didn’t relieve you. You felt like a horny teenager again, and you wanted to get out before he put two and two together. After your moment of hesitancy, you push the tin of candies into his waiting hands. 

You don’t miss the way he looks at you, eyebrows raised as if asking, ‘Are you serious?’ It does not make you feel any better about your intentions, and it certainly doesn’t make you feel like you got away with your little plan. 

“Well,” you turn on your heels quickly when he takes it from you, eager to avoid the potential awkwardness that was about to suffocate you, “now that you have your present, I should head to bed.”

You get two steps in before he grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks without having to tug. He gives you a moment, a chance to pull away. You don’t. Then he tugs you into his lap, and time blurs together. The next few moments are hazy, drowned out by the pounding of your heart in your ears. 

He whispers words with cryptic meanings that somehow make perfect sense to you. You feed him sour candy, and feel electricity run through your nerves when his tongue brushes your fingertips. You touch his lips, feeling how chapped they were, but loving the texture regardless, because it was his lips you were touching. And he kisses you. 

Hesitant at first, unsure of whether it was right to do so. It’s a bit silly, you think, to worry about that when he knew what you wanted from the start, but that was what you loved about him. Slowly, you give in to him, sliding your hand up to his hair to press him closer. He pauses, like he’s surprised by the approval, then dives back in for a deeper kiss.

You hear him swallow the candy, and you have half a mind to be jealous of the stupid thing. Especially when he separates, looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes that make you want to kiss him more stupid. You let him speak, though, drawing his thumb over your lip and following it with his eyes. Nothing he says makes any sense, and yet you understand every word like second nature.

It makes you smile, hearing him be so open and vulnerable with you. He’s still unsure, despite his confessions. Despite you sitting on top of him, despite you making out with him so passionately. He’s still worried he’s not the Caleb you want; you can see it in his eyes. You want to prove to him that he is. 

One shove has him lying against the couch cushions, eyes wide in surprise as his back hits them with a thud, “Wherever you are, what I wanted was always for you…” 

You cup his face, leaning down to capture him in another slow and sweet kiss, proof, “to be drawn to me… with the weakest gravitational pull.”

He laughs, like it’s ridiculous, and you know what it means. It was silly how the two of you managed to dance around your feelings for so long when they were so intense. You don’t know how he managed to do it his whole life, your feelings were rather new, and they were consuming you from the inside out. His control was something to be envied.

“Gravity can’t be blamed for two people in love,” he murmurs, low and deep and full of that affection you could never comprehend.

You didn’t need to comprehend, though, not with him. He would simply show you other ways to share in the affection, and eventually it would come to you without thinking. So, you kiss him again, giving him the go-ahead first. He doesn’t hesitate this time, swallowing you up in another deep kiss, pressing you closer like he’s trying to merge your bodies. 

You fall to the floor at some point, too lost in the moment to pause and care about the hardwood beneath you. Caleb softens the fall for you anyway, so there’s no reason to focus on anything but the way his lips dance against yours. You’re panting when he pulls away, watching the way he can’t stop staring at your lips. Your hand is held to his heart, and you can feel the way it pounds against his ribcage, just like yours. 

His lips quirk, “...See? This is how you draw me in every time without fail.”

You let your eyes flutter closed when he kisses you again, breathing him in like air. The candy lingered on his tongue, sending a jolt of sour that made your head feel unbelievably fuzzy. He kissed like he needed you to live, like he would die if he stopped. You wonder where he got these skills from, before the thought is lost to the feeling of something hard poking into your thigh. 

You tighten your fingers interlaced with his, squeezing just a little, just enough to notice. He squeezes back, reassuring and gentle. It’s enough assurance that you purposefully brush your leg against his hard-on, rewarded with a delicious hiss from him. When you do it again, his free hand stops you, grabbing and pulling it up and away with ease.

“Be nice,” he whispers against your lips.

You giggle, “Why should I be?”

He pulls away, playful admonishment shimmering in his eyes, “It’s my birthday.”

“Only for another few minutes,” you retort.

He hums, leaning down to kiss along your jaw, “I’ll be sure to remember that on your birthday then.”

His lips trace down your jaw, stopping where it connects to your neck. You think he’s going to pull away, but then he licks the spot like testing the waters, and then he’s sucking it. It’s a bit harsh, stinging as his teeth graze the skin over, but pleasant. You should’ve figured he’d want to leave a few marks, but it comes as a pleasant surprise nonetheless. When he’s satisfied with that one, he moves down and repeats the process a few more times. 

The new blooming marks sting satisfyingly, illuminated by the warm glow of the lights around the two of you. He admires them with a smirk, proud of his handiwork. It makes your face heat up; being desired so openly by him is new. You want to rub your thighs together, but he’s holding on to the one so tight you can’t. It only twitches uselessly in his hand, which has him squeezing back, worsening the heat pooling in your stomach. 

It’s a good feeling, you think, but not one you’re ready to face. Not by yourself. Luckily, Caleb wouldn’t let you do that. He leans down, nudging your nose gently, focusing you back on him. He’s looking at you like you’re the whole world, and you feel the same way looking back. How hopeless could the two of you get?

“You doin’ okay?” He laughs out, stroking his thumb along the hem of your skirt.

You nod, “I want this… you.”

“Me too,” he sighs out, heavy like a confession of his crimes that he’d been keeping for too long, “I want to take care of you.”

You don’t respond, instead pulling him back into a heated kiss. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth in an instant, and the desire from earlier is back like a fiery flame. It burns both of you from the inside out, only satiated by the way your tongues dance together. Easing with each inch of skin that presses against one another.

Without thinking, you hook your leg over his hip, pulling it flush with yours. His hard-on presses against your inner thigh, making you want to press yourself into it further. You do just that when he groans, smiling when he jolts a little in surprise. It’s cute how this super soldier of a man seems to be so weak to you, but then his inhuman ability to adapt kicks in, and he’s the one pressing against you.

He moves just enough that he’s pressing himself to your core, earning more than a few gasps of satisfaction. Tongue tangle as he rolls his hips into you at an even pace, fingers still gripping yours like a vice, a reminder that he is still your Caleb, despite the changes you were going through together. Your free hand slides down his front, finding his belt and fumbling around to loosen it. When you can’t, he slides his across your thigh and atop yours to help, the joint effort easing it out of the buckle and free enough that you can get to the button and zipper with no problem.

You both laugh a little when he pulls away to help you free himself from his boxers, then you abruptly stop when you see the size of him. Blinking back and forth between his face and his dick a few times in disbelief. He follows your gaze, growing smug with each flick of your eyes. Sure, he probably wasn’t the biggest guy out there, but he was big. Big enough that you’d never be able to take anything less afterwards – not that you’d planned to.

“Impressed?” He asks, low and teasing, reminding you that it was still Caleb you were gawking at. 

His ego was big enough as it is, so you frowned at him, “No.”

“No?” He laughs, leaning back over you, “Have you seen someone bigger? If so, you should give me his name, we can have a little comparison.”

“No,” you laugh, shoving at his chest playfully as he presses little vengeful kisses across your cheeks, “You are such an idiot, you know that.”

He hums, “You love it.”

You have a retort ready, happy to throw more words back and forth, but they die on your tongue in a jumble heap as his hand inches beneath your skirt. Lashes fluttering nervously when they skim the lacy edge of your panties, ones you’d picked specifically to match the outfit. To surprise him with. You didn’t think he’d get to see them tonight, yet here you were.

They dip slightly below the pantyline, and his lips graze your ear, gentle and reverent in the way they kiss you, “You can say no anytime, okay?”

He waits patiently for you to nod, then he slides his fingers in fully. He takes a second to feel around, getting an idea of your anatomy before he dips into the wetness pooling in your underwear. He slides it up to your lips, spreading them just enough that he can fiddle around and look for your clit. It isn’t perfect, it’s sloppy in its execution, but it’s all you want from him. When he finds your little bud and rolls it properly, you whine, closing your eyes tightly to zero in on the feeling.

You don’t hear him sigh in relief when you do that, too busy trying to move your hips into his rhythm. They dip down lower, following the hem of your pussy to your opening. Carefully, he prods one finger at your entrance, unsure but willing as he slides it inside. It’s much bigger than your own, rough and calloused as it slides into your gummy walls. He wiggles it experimentally, getting you gasping. He curls it next, and you moan, encouraging him to keep it up. 

He finds a nice rhythm, slow curls, and then a few faster pumps. It’s embarrassing how sensitive you are, whimpering and whining like you were in heat. He likes it, though, from the way his member twitches against you at each little sound. Another finger is added, then another, stretching you out pleasantly and slowly. Preparing you for the main event that neither of you could wait for. 

You don’t finish on his fingers; he lets you adjust to the size and the movement, then he pulls out all the way. If you were gonna cum, you were cumming with him, no questions asked. You watch him in a dreamlike state as he bunches your skirt up at your waist, methodically tucking your panties to the side. You want him inside you so badly, you don’t even think about protection until he’s pulling a condom from his pocket and ripping it open with his teeth. You’re not sure if it’s weird to find the way he slides it over himself hot, but the heated stare he gives you doesn’t let you linger on it too long.

He rubs some of your slick along his shaft, positioning himself at your entrance as he leans over you again. The hand still holding yours flexes, tightening its grip slightly as if to ask for permission. You follow its movements, repeating the squeeze, and nodding for safe measure. He shudders out a relieved sigh, pressing his forehead to yours, screwing his eyes shut as he makes the first push into your plush walls. 

Both of your jaws drop open, Caleb letting out an audible shudder as he sinks in further. He fit you deliciously, like a missing piece of a puzzle. The stretch was there, but it was anything but unpleasant. Each inch was another reason why you loved him, tightening your hold on his hand like a tether to the world. His head had fallen from yours, busying his mouth with going over those lovebites again as a distraction from your tight heat. 

He had to pause when he was fully inside, gasping for air like you your stealing it from his lungs yourself. You raked your free hand through his hair, trying to ease his endless trembling. His hands are flexing endlessly as he tries his best not to cum on the spot. You wouldn’t think him such a weak man, but maybe it was only because it was you he was inside. It was probably a dream come true, just like it was for you, so you can’t hold it against him.

When he comes back up from your shoulder, his face is five times redder, and his hair is stuck to his forehead. He’s never looked hotter.

“God, Pips,” He strains, looking at you like it was all your fault.

All you can focus on is that he just called you pips like he wasn’t inside you, “Do not call me ‘Pips’ while you’re inside me.”

You’d expect him to shoot back with something snarky, but he doesn’t have it in him, “Fuck, baby, can I move?”

The desperation is surprising, sending a shock of something new through your body that you’d have to deal with later. Right now, all you could do was nod, because you weren’t in a much better state. He mumbles out a thank you, moving so he could kiss you again. Sloppier than before, but a welcome change from the haziness the two of you were experiencing. 

Slowly, he begins to pull out, not even halfway to start. Shallow thrusts of his hips against yours, easy to keep up with. You feel every inch of him like this, walls clamping down on him like they couldn’t stand to be empty again. You roll your mound against him, sighing happily at the friction. You’d dreamed of how he might feel inside you before, but your mind couldn’t ever imagine how this felt. It was perfectly imperfect the way his hips rutted against yours. Desperate and all the same loving.

He swallowed your moans up with his kisses, muffling his own at the same time. You’d both waited too long for this moment, and it felt like the stars had finally aligned for you. The desperation to make one another come undone was far more than earned at this point. That's why it came as no surprise that your release was coming down upon you quickly. Both of you were far too needy to last long, especially not when it felt like you were made for each other.

He kisses down your neck as you get closer, wanting to hear your sweet sighs of his name. You oblige him, filling up the house with praises of him. You feel like it’s the only thing you remember how to say as your mind grows fuzzier and fuzzier.

“Caleb,” you whimper, tugging on the hair close to his scalp, “‘m close.”

He shudders, “Me too, baby. Let’s cum together, yeah?”

You nod adamantly, wanting nothing more in the world in this moment. Your walls clench down on him, trying their best to make that happen without being told by you. You feel his grip tightening on you, pulling you closer until he physically cannot do so. The heat of your skin aids the sensation growing between the two of you, and before either of you can think, you are tumbling over the edge together. 

He calls your name in a broken sound, like he can’t believe that this is real. He is trembling in your grasp, squeezing you so tight you’re afraid you might have a Caleb-shaped bruise across the whole of your body. You’re sure he’d like that, too. He is still trembling when you finally come back down to earth, but it’s not from the aftershocks of his orgasm. No, he’s simply overcome with emotion.

There’s no tears when he looks at you, only a wide-eyed stare like a boy who couldn’t believe his eyes. It makes you want to cry, seeing how much this means to him. How much you mean to him. The perfect birthday present you could’ve gotten him came for free, and you were too busy worrying over silly things like your own insecurities when you should’ve just shown how much you loved him to start.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, soft and insistent, leaving no room for argument.

You smile, pulling him into a soft kiss, “So are you.”

He sits you up, letting go of your hand for the first time that night to hold your hips properly. His thumbs smooth over the fabric of your dress, drawing little comforting circles into the bone there. Lips kissing you slowly and easily, grounding yourselves back in the moment. Without disconnecting from you, he lifts you like you weigh nothing, settling you down onto the table.

Several decorations fell to the floor, some crushed under your weight, none important enough to pull away for. It was like you needed to be connected to him, or else you would fall apart without him holding you together. He haphazardly shoves the cake you’d gotten him to the edge of the table, pushing you to lie down again. You listen, leaning back while the kiss picks up heat again. 

You can feel him chubbing up again inside you, member throbbing against your walls as his tongue slides against yours. The passion is back, fire running along your veins with each desperate roll of his tongue. It’s not as sweet as before, but you don’t complain. You don’t think you want it to be sweet; you want his honesty. All of him, not just the soft and vulnerable parts, but the rough and ugly parts too. The ones that wanted to consume you whole, you wanted to love them too.

He pulls away first, chuckling when you try and chase his lips. He’s got you caged between his arms, surrounded by him. He takes a second to admire you, eyes grazing over your body with a sparkle. He’s red in the face still, out of breath and sweaty, and absolutely beautiful. He grazes your cheek with a gentle finger, smiling at the way you blink at the contact.

“Can I be a little rough?” He asks, and it makes you wonder why he would even do so. Of course, he can; you trust him more than anything in the world. Yet, he still thought to ask instead of scaring you. He was going to be the death of you.

You bring a hand up to cup his face, smiling back at him as if it was a silly question, “I trust you, Caleb.”

A relieved sigh tumbles past his lips, as if there were any other answer he could’ve gotten in the first place. It’s almost cute how fragile he was capable of being for you, his efforts to be open not lost on you. Then, he’s readjusting himself, pulling out with a hiss from both parties. One hand taps his shoulders, signaling you to place your legs over them. You do so without argument, entranced by the way he takes control of the situation so well. 

He fishes around in his pocket for another condom, repeating his earlier motions with ease, and again, you think you find it too hot to be normal. You don’t question why he has more than one; it doesn’t matter to you when he’s sliding the black lace panties off you and into his pocket. A soft kiss is pressed to your calf, working up to your knee as he worships your skin simply for being yours. His eyes watch yours the whole way up, distracting you from the way he glides against your folds, lubing himself up again for good measure.

You only look down when he’s pressing into you again, whining out a broken version of his name at the ease with which you take him in. Your pussy has already gotten used to having him inside you, a very dangerous thing. He groans into your skin when he’s down to the hilt, eyes fluttering like he can’t control the motion. You can’t when you repeat it, breath catching at how pretty he is. 

He smiles at you, pressing another kiss to the inside of your knee, watching the way you seem to struggle with brain fog. He always did like it when you played a little dumb with him, it makes sense he’d relish in you being a little ditzy now, meant he could take care of your needs better. He looks away to follow his hands down your thighs, bunching your dress up high so he can properly see the way he fits inside you.

Hands grip your hips, firm but not painful. He’s distracted by the way they seem to sink into the skin there, squeezing and releasing over and over, methodical in the way he plays with you. You don’t interrupt the moment he’s having, letting himself enjoy the sight until he looks to you again. You don’t realize that’s your warning until he’s pulling out, fully this time, and pushing his hips back to yours. 

It’s not shallow, hitting you hard and deep with each movement, trying to draw out moans from your lips. It’s successful, head rolling and back arching from the new pace. You feel his eyes burning a trail across your skin, but you don’t have the mind to be embarrassed by it at the moment. It’s so much more than you expected from him, but you have a hard time being surprised. You knew Caleb, after all, he was going to break for you eventually.

You can’t even lift your hips to match him; he’s pressing them firmly into the table, not allowing you to move. He was in control, and he wasn’t letting you do anything but give while he took. It was hard to be angry when he had your thoughts in such a tangled mess anyway, only wanting to chase after the pleasure. Since you couldn’t physically after his thrusts, you did the next best thing, fingers sliding down between your legs to help him out.

It makes you a little smug when his eyes follow them, hips stuttering for a second as they spread your lips to reach the little nub of pleasure between them. You rub circles matching the speed of his thrusts, slow and deliberate. Each one electricity through your body, doubling the whines of his name, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

There is a spark of annoyance in his eyes, bringing his prosthetic arm down to swat your hand away so he could do it. The biometric skin there is cool in contrast to the heat of your own; the circles he draws are rougher but so much better than your own. You feel the coil from earlier building in your stomach, and you almost resent it for doing so. You didn’t want it to be over yet; you were enjoying yourself too much.

Still, your body wasn’t listening, nor was Caleb. He kept up the rough and hard pace, pounding the coil tighter and tighter. It only takes a few more rubs of your clit to get you screaming out his name, muscles spasming at the intensity of the stimulation. Your head spins, and he doesn’t relent, working you through your orgasm the same way he got you to it. 

He slows when you start to push at him, removing his hand from you and making a show of lapping your juices off it. He pulls out of you instead of resting inside, massaging your hips gently as he watches you settle. He’s back to being careful with you, like he wasn’t just rutting into you like he was in heat. Contradictory as ever, and you wouldn’t change it for a thing.

He sets your legs down on the floor as he sits back, petting your thighs as you sit up. He smiles at you, tilting his head like a puppy, and you positively have to kiss him when he looks at you like that. Sighing against his lips satisfactorily, happy with yourself. 

“Let’s clean you up,” He whispers against your lips, still so concerned for you.

You nearly agree there, if not for the fact that his still at attention, member bobs distractingly as he stands. You didn’t even notice with how much you were drowning in your pleasure; he never finished. It annoys you a bit how he doesn’t seem to care much either – wasn’t this for him? How could you let him walk away unsatisfied?

He grunts when you push him onto the couch, blinking up at you in surprise as you glare at him. He tilts his head, almost cutely, and pouts at you innocently. You don’t let it get to you this time, placing your hands on your hips stubbornly.

“You didn’t finish.” You scold.

He glances down at himself, “I didn’t need to.”

You screw your face up, angry that he would dismiss his needs so easily, “I need you to.”

He goes to give you another retort, but stops when you turn around again. For a second, it seems like you’re leaving, ready to pout in the other room and make him run after you like you were kids. You don’t leave, and you never thought to. Instead, your hand finds the zipper of your dress and slides it down, letting it slip off your shoulders and pool at your feet.

You smile over your shoulder, enjoying the way his eyes can’t seem to decide on what part of you to stare at. You turn, and they land on your chest, watching it jiggle slightly with each step you take toward him. Subconsciously, he reaches out when you throw your legs over either side of him, hands sliding to your breasts without thought. Squeezing and flicking experimentally, giddy like a kid on Christmas.

“This is your gift,” you say quietly, drawing his attention back to you, “I want you to take as much as you can.”

His jaw set, thinking it over like it was some dramatic decision. You’d already made it abundantly clear what you wanted tonight, but he was still himself. He was still worried about going too far, so you would be patient and remind him again and again until it was as natural as breathing. He sighs, pressing a kiss to your clavicle as his admission of defeat. It makes you smile, reaching down between yourself to help slide him into your heart again.

You’re still very sensitive, as is he, evident by the way you both whimper when he’s sheathed inside again. You don’t waste time before you’re rolling your hips into him, sloppy and desperate for a quick release. He takes your breast in his mouth, sucking and teething on it to muffle the sounds of his moans. His robotic arm helps you bounce on his dick while the human one plays with your free tit, rolling and pinching your nipple.

Both of you cum fast, overwhelmed and overstimulated. You don’t stop when you cum though, and he doesn’t make you. He lets you overstimulate yourself, holding you tight as you elongate his orgasm and pull another one from yourself. He only stops for a moment to flip you over, face down ass up, and take you from behind. Then, bent over the back of the couch, on your knees, legs over your head, held against the wall, until you eventually migrated to the window.

Your chest pressed to the glass, ass pushing back into his thrusts desperately, fucked dumb and empty headed. His fingers curl over yours on the glass, head tucked into your shoulder so he could suck more love bites into the supple flesh. You don’t think you’re capable of cumming again, you’re almost sure you’ve sucked him dry, but the burn in your tummy tells you otherwise.

He releases one of your hands in favor of lifting a leg up, supporting the new position with his strength alone, as all you can do is press into the glass. The glimmer of a sunrise shines over the horizon of the city, so pretty in the way it glints of the edges of the buildings, but all you can think about is how good he’s fucking you. Your only relief from the heat is the cool of the window, but even that seems to warm as your skin slides against it.

It’s intense, the way your orgasm comes over you. After multiple rounds of non-stop fucking, your throat can’t even produce more than a desperate squeak, body trembling in his hold. You feel him cum inside the condom, heat of his release seeping into your bones. It takes all the rest of your strength not to drop to the floor, letting him help you settle down in his arms instead.

He’s panting, just as dreary as you were, but he looks like a god amongst men in your eyes. He catches the look, gaze softening into something more tender. There’s no need for words in the moment, too encapsulated in one another to try and find them. The only thing you can think of is how much you adore him, and how happy you are to have been able to experience tonight with him like this. 

You had found the perfect gift for him, and you hoped he would remember it for years to come. The way he was looking at you, so gentle and adoring, told you that he would.

[romypearl]

The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia

Word count: +2200

Unrevised

She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.

Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.

It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.

"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.

"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"

"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."

She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.

"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"

"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."

"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"

"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."

Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.

Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.

To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.

"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."

Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.

"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.

"No, thanks!"

"How about Doritos?"

"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.

"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."

"You really like berries."

"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.

"Red is your color..."

"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."

Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.

"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.

"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.

"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."

They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."

The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.

Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.

She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.

"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."

"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."

"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."

"And philosophy." Y/N adds.

"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"

Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."

"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.

Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."

"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."

It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.

"Do you wear glasses?"

"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."

"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."

Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.

"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."

With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.

She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @chaengluva @avelynpye @bianchiniomg @royalityofmultifandom @lottiematthewsceo @notjaexiee @mayles @l1lass @bridkesby @newyork1432

Join my taglist here ^^

[ticifics]

Adorable Kitchen Disaster

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: "Dave..." your voice nearly faltered. He smiled against your skin, clearly enjoying your reaction, and placed a few more soft kisses there, each one slower and more provocative than the last. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice low and clearly satisfied. "Am I distracting the chef?"

Warnings: just fluffy - Dave being a lovable disaster in the kitchen

The Christmas spirit was already in the air when you heard the doorbell ring. An instant smile appeared on your face as you left the cookie dough on the counter and went to the door. When you opened it, there he was: Dave Lizewski, wearing a comfy blue hoodie under a dark green coat. The beanie hid part of his messy dark hair, and the round glasses framed his big, warm blue eyes that always made you sigh.

"Hey," he said, smiling that shy, adorable way of his. He was holding a plastic bag filled with candies and treats. "I'm ready for the mission, chef."

You didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, you pulled him by his coat, pressing your lips firmly to his. Dave seemed surprised for a second but soon returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and deepening the kiss. He still tasted like chocolate—because, of course, he always brought something sweet along the way—and the way he smiled against your lips showed how much he loved it.

"Wow." He laughed quietly when you finally pulled away, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling. "I think I'm going to come help in the kitchen more often."

"My parents aren't here," you told him, slightly out of breath, ignoring his playful comment. "They went to visit some friends. So, we have the whole house to ourselves."

"That explains why you're so happy to see me," Dave teased, but the way he bit his lip, shy and enchanted, only made him more irresistible.

You rolled your eyes, holding his hand and pulling him inside. "Come on, hurry up. The cookies aren't going to bake themselves."

The kitchen was a well-organized mess, with cookie cutters scattered on the counter and a bowl of dough ready. Dave observed everything with one eyebrow raised, leaving the "supplies" bag on the table.

"Wow, you're seriously letting me touch the food?"

"I'm trying to give you a chance," you laughed, positioning yourself next to him and extending the bowl. "Now take the dough and start rolling it out with the pin. Just make firm movements, forward and back."

Dave grabbed the rolling pin with both hands and shot you an amused look. "Seems easy. Like a video game. I'm great at this."

But within minutes, you had already spotted the impending disaster. He was pressing the rolling pin too hard, the dough was getting all crooked, and the effort was only making him more frustrated.

"My God, Dave, you're going to destroy everything," you said, laughing.

"I'm not destroying! Just... customizing," he replied, completely convinced, as he rolled the dough any which way.

With an amused sigh, you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his arms, your back pressed against his chest. Dave froze, surprised by the proximity, but let his hands relax when you held his wrists.

"Like this," your voice came out soft, almost a whisper, as you guided his movements firmly. "Calm. No force. Just... glide."

Dave let out a low chuckle. "Do you realize this looks like a movie scene? Like, 'Ghost' but the cooking version?"

"Shut up, Lizewski," you warned, but a smile escaped.

The truth was, the proximity wasn't helping your focus. You could feel his body heat through the hoodie, the rhythmic sound of his breath close to your ear, and the soft scent that always seemed to surround him. What had started as a funny moment quickly turned into something more intense.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Dave murmured, his voice deeper and lower, too close to your neck.

You didn't have time to respond because, in the next second, he leaned forward and placed a light kiss on the side of your neck. The sensation was so unexpected that you shivered, letting out a sigh.

"Dave..." your voice nearly faltered.

He smiled against your skin, clearly enjoying your reaction, and placed a few more soft kisses there, each one slower and more provocative than the last.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice low and clearly satisfied. "Am I distracting the chef?"

"You're distracting me," you replied, though not with much firmness, because the truth was, you were loving it.

"I don’t see you complaining for real," Dave teased, giving one last kiss before pulling away just enough to study your face. His cheeks were red too, but the crooked, loving smile remained. "Why do you have to be so pretty, huh? Can't even be a disaster in peace."

"Who says I want you to stop being a disaster?" you retorted, your voice full of amusement, but the look in your eyes was sweet enough to be hard to hide.

He smiled even more and leaned in to kiss you again, his lips brushing against yours so gently it felt like he was afraid to break you. You felt his fingers slide along the curve of your waist, almost as if he wanted to memorize every inch, as the kiss slowly deepened, stealing any remaining breath.

"I swear you're going to be my undoing," Dave murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Well..." you began, with a shy, daring smile. "At least we’ll get lost together."

His laughter was genuine, and he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. It was the kind of look that made time seem to slow down — his blue eyes filled with affection, admiration, and something deeper, an intensity so pure that you didn’t know how he could keep it all contained in just that gaze.

"What luck I have," he replied softly, almost to himself.

Before you could respond, he acted on impulse. With a somewhat awkward movement, Dave grabbed your waist and lifted you up, making you let out a surprised squeal instantly.

"Dave! What are you...?"

But you didn’t even finish the sentence. The sudden movement made your leg bump into the open bowl of flour, creating a white cloud in the air that looked like something out of a cartoon. You burst out laughing, covering your face with your hands as he gently set you down on the counter.

"Sorry! Sorry!" he laughed, not even trying to hide how much he was enjoying the chaos he had just caused. His hands were now covered in flour, as were parts of his hair and the blue sweatshirt he was wearing.

"You’re a walking disaster, Lizewski." You laughed through your grumbling, trying to brush some flour off your face, but you were quickly interrupted when he leaned in again, his smile still dancing on his lips.

"I didn’t hear any complaints earlier." He said, and before you could respond, he sealed his lips to yours once more.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more engaging, as if he were trying to capture every bit of that moment. His hands slid back down your waist, a firm yet gentle touch, as if he were still surprised to be allowed this close to you.

You pulled him even closer, feeling the heat of his body against yours and realizing, once again, how he seemed stronger than you gave him credit for. It was a subtle strength, but it was present — a constant and charming surprise from someone who could still be so sweet and caring.

"Since when have you been working out like this, huh?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled between the kisses he was now spreading across your jawline and the corner of your neck.

"Since I started carrying my girlfriend around in my spare time," he replied with a proud smile, his voice lower and full of affection.

"How cocky." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the big smile on your face.

Dave looked at you again, his blue eyes tracing every detail of your face, and you felt your heart squeeze in a good way. He was still too close, your bodies almost touching, and the redness on his cheeks only made him more endearing.

"I’m serious." He spoke softly, brushing a lock of flour out of your hair with his fingertips. "I never thought I’d have someone like this... you know, someone like you."

Your heart melted instantly. You leaned in, pulling him into another kiss, but the moment was brutally interrupted by a strange smell and a low sound coming from the oven.

Both of you froze, eyes wide in unison, until you let out an "Oh no!" and gently pushed Dave off the counter.

"The cookies!" you exclaimed, rushing to the oven.

Dave stood still in the middle of the kitchen, still covered in flour, watching as you, somewhat clumsily, opened the oven and tried to save the cookies — already too dark to be considered edible.

"Okay, okay, I admit it," he began, trying to suppress his laughter. "Maybe the movie scene was too good to be true."

You shot him a sharp look, but you couldn’t hold back your own laugh either. The kitchen was a mess — flour on the floor, sugar on the counter, both you and Dave covered in white powder. But none of that mattered.

You sighed dramatically, holding the baking sheet as if it were a lost cause.

"I think we’ve lost this batch."

"It’s just proof of how irresistible I am." Dave shrugged, walking over to you and holding out his arms. "But hey, I promise the next one will turn out right."

"You really are a lost cause, Lizewski."

"And you still like me this way." He grinned widely, pulling you back close, as if there was no mess around.

And, to be honest, at that moment, there really wasn’t.

[bandsofmarv]

Your supernatural fic made me miss the show! Haven't watched in so long!

Can I request a bucky one?

Something angst with a happy ending?

Sorry I'm so sleepy deprived I can't get specific....

Oh maybe reader hiding an injury because they don't want the team to be worried

Here we go lovely 🤍

Unseen wounds

You are scared of burdening the team with a serious injury so you decide to hide it. Only for Bucky to find you and come to your aid.

Warnings - none only angst

The mission had been a success—or at least, that’s what everyone kept saying. But Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It gnawed at him during the ride back, a dull ache in the back of his mind that only worsened as he glanced at you, tucked away in the corner of the jet. You were too quiet, too still, your head turned toward the window to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

He knew you. Knew the way you laughed when the team cracked jokes, the way you always helped Natasha clean her weapons even if you didn’t have to, and the way you wore your stress on your sleeve. This wasn’t you.

When the jet landed, you bolted before anyone could stop you.

Something was definitely wrong.

Bucky’s gut twisted as he searched the compound. You weren’t in the kitchen, the common area, or the training room. The rest of the team had dispersed, too caught up in their post-mission routines to notice your absence. But Bucky couldn’t let it go.

He checked your room last, his hand tightening on the doorframe as he heard a faint sound from inside. A muffled cry.

“Doll? You in there?” he called, his voice steady despite the rising panic in his chest.

No answer.

His metal hand gripped the doorknob, the cool vibranium grounding him just enough to keep his head clear.

“Come on, don’t shut me out,” he said, softer this time.

When the silence stretched, he used the spare key you’d given him, promising himself he’d only ever use it in emergencies.

The sight that greeted him made his heart stop.

You were slumped on the floor, your hand pressed tightly against your side. Blood seeped through your jacket, staining your shirt and pooling on the hardwood beneath you.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered, rushing to your side.

You flinched when he knelt next to you, your eyes wide with panic.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.

“I didn’t want to—”

“Don’t,” he snapped, his jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t want to worry us.”

Your lips trembled, and his anger evaporated as quickly as it came, replaced by a crushing wave of guilt.

“God,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair as his eyes scanned the wound. “How bad is it? Can you—can you move?”

You shook your head, tears spilling over. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I thought I could handle it.”

“Handle it?” Bucky’s voice cracked, and he pressed a hand against your uninjured shoulder, his metal fingers trembling as he steadied you. “You’re bleeding out, and you thought you could handle it?”

His chest ached as he worked quickly, retrieving the first aid kit he always kept nearby. Cleaning the wound wasn’t easy; your soft whimpers of pain tore at him, each one hitting him like a physical blow.

“This is going to sting,” he warned, his voice low and tight as he poured antiseptic over the cut.

You bit down on your lip, a choked cry escaping despite your efforts to stay silent.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice softening. “I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, alright?”

The wound was deep—too deep for the makeshift stitches he applied. You needed real medical attention, but getting you to the med bay without drawing attention would be nearly impossible.

When he finished wrapping the bandage around your torso, he leaned back, his hands shaking as he stared at the blood on his fingers.

“This never should’ve happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your face pale and drawn. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” you murmured.

Bucky froze, his stomach twisting painfully.

“A burden?” he echoed, his voice breaking. “Do you really think I’d ever see you that way?”

You didn’t respond, your silence cutting deeper than any Hydra blade ever could.

“Do you know what it’s like?” he said, his voice rising as the words spilled out, unfiltered and raw. “To see someone you care about like this? To know they’re in pain and didn’t trust you enough to ask for help?”

Your eyes widened, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to what? Make me feel like I failed you?” He shook his head, his metal hand gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that it groaned under the pressure. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve seen it.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice weak but earnest.

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound filled with anguish. “Of course it is. It’s always my fault. I was right there, and I didn’t see what was happening. Just like I didn’t see what Hydra was doing to me, just like I didn’t see the signs when people needed me before…”

His voice trailed off, his eyes glistening as he turned back to you.

“I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice breaking completely. “Not you.”

You reached out, your hand resting gently on his metal one.

“You didn’t fail me,” you said softly, your voice trembling but sure. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Bucky closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath as he clung to your words. He lowered himself to the floor beside you, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing his hand.

And in that moment, Bucky made a promise of his own. He’d protect you, no matter what. Because losing you wasn’t an option. Not ever.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 28 THUG IT OUT

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes

NOTES | I'm sorry this chapter took so long, my brain just isn't working to write these days so I tried to take my time with this chap, tbh I'm still not super happy with it but I know a lot of you wanted to read it!! also RENJUN IS BACK!!!!!!

I currently have an unwelcome visitor (a pigeon) in my apartment and I have no idea how to get rid of it, it's munching on spinach in my kitchen rn.. and my cat had been trying to eat the pigeon.. also aespa + tbz concept photos...

The tension hangs in the air like a thick fog, palpable and suffocating.

Much different to the usual high spirits and aspirations that fill the changing room before a game, heavier somehow.

Y/n let's her gaze linger on the brunette across the room, as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, tugging at each strand.

Ningning feels the eyes on her, but makes no effort to meet them, struggling to gulp down the endless amount of words she wants to scream at her best friend. And God, there are a lot.

But she can't find the courage to speak them, at least not now as coach continuously shouts for the captain, getting ready for the debrief before the game. Despite how much she cares for y/n, Ningning can't find it within herself to shoot even a forced smile her way as she heads out of the room. She sighs.

This was for her benefit anyways.

Y/n's dismissal hurt ningning no doubt, but if she didn't realise soon enough, y/n would be hurting too.

Y/n can barely remember how she got here, the ball she had just caught pressing into her fingertips, it's material heavier than she once remembered as she stood at the edge of the basketball court. She remembers being in the changing rooms not so long ago, when in reality, the game was now in full swing.

Against the vibrant energy of the game, y/n couldn't help but feel lost, her eyes flickering between Jaemin and Ningning in turn. The only thing keeping her grounded being the cool air against her face.

5 seconds she thinks. She has 5 seconds to make a decision, Ningning's open arms call out to her, she was in the perfect position, but y/n doesn't reach to shoot the ball forwards.

They share a look, nothing like the triumphant smirks they were used to, instead every glance feels charged, as if the unspoken words linger just beneath the surface of their gaze, waiting to be addressed.

The clock ticks in her mind, her own voice calling out to her, telling her to just suck up her pride and pass the fucking ball to Ningning, but she doesn't want to.

No matter how much she tries to convince herself to, she can't, she doesn't.

The inner conflict swirls, part of her wanting nothing more than to win this game, but another whispers excuses, convincing her to shoot her shot.

A couple seconds, it's all she has.

There's an urgency in the eyes surrounding her, begging her to pass the ball, to not let the pressure get to her, to make quick decisions like she always would, but the gears in her brain don't grind half as quickly as normal, her heartbeat quickening.

Her palms are sweaty, loosening grip against the ball, a sign of the time passing by.

Just pass the god damn ball.

There's no time. Not enough to consciously make a choice between her pride and what she knew was right, at least. So y/n launches the ball forwards, eyes open, yet completely unaware of her own actions, until the crowd erupts.

And even when the game reaches its end and as she follows her team off court, y/n's thoughts are overwhelming.

There's a distant echo of celebration, and a contrasting muffle of loss but her mind drifts far away, lost in thought. Her competitive nature feels suppressed by too many emotions and she's unbothered by the outcome of the game that usually meant so much to her.

Ningning was right, it was all she could think, and she knew she owed her best friend an apology. But perhaps she needed to talk with Jaemin even more.

She feels torn, part of y/n wonders if she's being overdramatic, putting way too much thought into something so simple, another part knows rushing into something like this isn't sensible. Even if it was just talking, there was far too much hurt surrounding the topic.

It hurt when Jaemin left, there was no doubt about it.

But years had passed since then, and things weren't the same.

Y/n didn't think she was nearly as strong now as she was then, she wasn't nearly as brave, now she was a skeleton of the strong willed, determined young girl she once used to be.

She had held onto Jaemin as the small string of familiarity that connected her to everything she once knew, to everything she once had, to everyone she once had. She much preferred living in the blissful ignorance that he wouldn't walk away than to potentially lose him again.

It wasn't healthy. She knew that much. The things he had done and she had forgiven him for in no less than a blink of an eye, Ningning was right, Y/n had to talk to Jaemin, and she had to do it soon. Before she convinced herself otherwise.

prev | masterlist | next

TAGLIST: @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @nanawrlds @222brainrot @sungookie @pepperedthot @dinonuguaegi @haechansbbg @90s-belladonna @bath1lda @jeongintwt @daegalfangirl @ahnneyong @jammingjaem @paper-boats-rose @iraa567 @errrrrat @kyusqult @suzayaaa @jising-jisang-jisung @soonyoonswoo @nctrawberries @wonbin-truther @sunghoonsgfreal @lotties-readings @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @girlz4jaem @beomgyusonlywife @nanaxwi @nosungluv @tommina @sinisxtea @20sdiary @otblous @p-d1ddy @lostinneocity @soobs-things @odxrilove @buns-inhiding @busy-daydreaming02 @starfilledgaze @papichulomacy @grassbutneo @iwilleatyourgod @jeeluv @mystverse @meowtella

[nikipuff]

Lav... I'm legit crying from that angst prompt. God, can we all let Ronin be happy for 5 mins!?

(Lovely work BTW, ya did a great job with it, it's pulling at my heartstrings at the moment...)

Would it be alright to ask for a counter prompt for the angst? In where Ronin DOES save his darling from their injury and help take care of them? I'm a sucker for someone realizing their mistakes and trying to fix it so it doesn't happen again trope.

Thanks for reading! And once again, fantastic job.

🔍-anon. :)

Thank you so much 🔍 anon!! (You're too kind I swear-) I can't tell if you're joking about the crying thing 😭 But I'll count it for the writing goals!

You Didn't Leave Me

Warnings: Descriptions of beating someone to death with a crowbar, bit shorter than I wanted it to be, Angel mention!!

“Don’t . . . don’t you dare leave me, darlin’.” Ronin doubled down on his efforts, keeping the cloth pressed against the wound. Sounds of your labored breathing echoed throughout the alleyway, yet Ronin didn’t dare shush you. The noise kept him focused, helped him remember what was at stake. 

Your life.

“Didn’t plan on it.” Gritting your teeth, you fought the urge to scream as Ronin attempted to stabilize you. He had long since called Angel, asking, no, begging that she come and help you both. He didn’t trust the police enough to handle finding your attacker and bringing them to justice, so instead, he called for Angel to come and help him hunt them down and give them the fate they deserved.

Frantic footsteps were heard as Angel arrived, a first aid kit in hand. “Ronin, (User)!” Crouching beside you, she nudged Ronin out of the way, cursing as she saw your wound. Ronin stumbled back, but nodded as he understood what to do next.

Revenge.

You were his Darling, his fallen angel that he was adamant on keeping. He couldn't lose you- not like he had with Ther.

Grabbing his crowbar, he gave you a crooked grin before disappearing into the night to deliver justice for you.

. . . 

It wasn’t pretty.

The man hadn’t gotten far, his body not fit for this situation. 

Had the old man even hid a body before?

Ronin doubted it.

“Hey, you.” The man turned, his eyes wide as he saw the red stain on Ronin’s shirt. Your blood, spreading and spreading until it covered him completely while he worked to save you. And now, it was the very thing etched into your attacker’s mind.

Falling backwards onto the cold alley floor, the man played his final card- desperation. Begging for Ronin to spare him, to let him go free. That he would pay for your hospital treatment, do anything to help you heal. And as much as Ronin wanted to bash his skull in, he obliged. 

“Money. Now.” Grateful words tumbled from the man’s mouth as he grabbed his wallet, thrusting it before Ronin as if his life depended on it. And well . . . it did.

Shuffling through the money, Ronin grunted in response, shoving it in his pocket. He looked back at the man, a cruel smile spreading across his features. “You know . . . I think I’ve changed my mind.”

. . .

The screaming had stopped after the third hit.

His crowbar was splattered, ruined by the blood of such a rotten man. 

But nonetheless, justice had been served, Even V could approve of how he dealt with the situation. No innocents were harmed, with only the blood of a guilty man staining him that night.

Checking his phone, Ronin found Angel calling him. He answered, pressing the device against his ear.

“They okay?”

“Yeah. We’re at my house now if you want to come by.”

Ronin laughed, amused that she would suggest that he didn’t want to visit you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’. Gotta apologize to my darlin’ for putting her there.”

“Is the great Ronin Beaufort going to apologize for once?”

Hearing the amusement and feigned disbelief in Angel’s tone, he decided to play along.

“I suppose I will.”

[rosinantecigarettes]

God bless for the chubby reader <3 we need more representation

Do you mind doing a x chubby reader where y/n likes to make eye contact and smile happily and lovingly often at buggy, law, bartolomeo, and coby?

Basically a no thoughts, head empty reader who is really loving?

💕💕💕Love your blog 💕💕💕

★ ★ NO TOUGHTS, JUST LOVE ★ ★

when the reader likes to make eye contact and smile. (ft. buggy, law, bartolomeo and koby)

content warning: chubby!reader. gn reader. fluff. miserably proofread.

a.n: you're my first request! and you're so sweet dear, ty. I'm not used to writing or reading barto (which is a shame, I like him very much) but i tried. i really hope it attends to your request! xo

𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘

wbajshwhajsh this man will yell at you "S-STOP DOING THAT!!" dont stop.

in general he's a flustered and blushing mess anytime you do that.

he be yelling at his crew and you're just there. staring at him, and when he turn to you and look into your eyes you just smile.

or or!! he's doing his makeup for the day and you stop what you doing to admire him, he will "demand" you to stop, but the blush on his face tells everything.

he's super shy (new jeans rizz)

𝐋𝐀𝐖

surprisingly doesn't get flustered. at least not visibly.

like yeah you're very super cute with those chubby cheeks and your toothy smile and all but he's not flustered. he just smirks back at you.

he thinks that you're really adorable tho he wont admit it. maybe someday...

turns out as a competition with himself to make YOU flustered.

which, of course, he achieves without much effort.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎

this man... if you want to kill him congratulations, you did it.

he's a simp for you even more than he is for luffy (if possible) so when you do that, he's a crying and happy man.

will kneel in front of you when you smile at him, almost yelling how sweet and loving you are and how he dont deserve a lovely soul like yours.

just hug this man and kiss him and shower him in your love. he may definitely cry more.

𝐊𝐎𝐁𝐘

(HE'S SO CUTE!!) everytime you do that his face turn as pink as his hair, and as he tries to say something you just kiss his cheek. (I love the idea of teasing shy men. help me)

he's always so embarrassed by that, have mercy.

he loves seeing your smile but he cant keep eye contact with you.

will tell you that you look cute when smile while he's blushing and looking away. (whsjsbhs I love him sm)

[woozisprincess]

Seventeen's reaction to you wanting to run through the entire group

You want to run through the Seventeen members like you're on the track team.

Seventeen x Fem Reader

Super suggestive, entirely talk about sex, Soonyoung wants a threesome, they are all dtf, it's the same scenario but if each member were the first to find out, reader gets called a slut (lovingly), unedited bs

Seungcheol

"Really?" He looks at you with a raised brow. Not what he was expecting when he asked if you had a crush on any of them. Was hoping you'd say him, but he supposes this can work in his favor. He leaned close to you, grabbing by the waist. "Well, you could always start with me." And if he got his way, you won't even think about the others once he's done. You thought a night with the leader was a great way to kick off your excursions.

Jeonghan

All of them? Not that he was judging. Just sounded like a lot of effort. Also Cheol's really possessive, the maknae doesn't like to share either, and Soonyoung is such a brag. So many things to consider, and work around. Sounds like more effort than it's worth. But then again... Sense you're offering. "I don't know about those other guys, but I can promise you won't regret a night with me."

Shua

Well that's... Not information that he asked for, but go off. "Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart." Dumb response. What does that even mean? Truthfully, out of everyone you did not mean to tell Joshua. Sweet, gentle Joshua. You apologize for your poor manners. Joshua thought for a moment. "Well I'm not exactly a perfect gentleman all the time." He smiled at you. Sum bout' how he said it. Did that mean what you thought it meant?

Junhui

"Damn, girl!" The reaction was automatic. "Like the whole team!?" You confirmed. After the initial shock Jun actually could not care less, just another thing about you that he probably shouldn't know, but you told him regardless. "Well... Shit," he muttered, "let me know when it's my turn." He might not care all that much, but he's not fucking stupid. If a bad bitch wants him, a bad bitch wants him.

Soonyoung

"Oh bet!? Can I go first!?" That's it. He jumps at the opportunity laid out before him, does not give a fuck that his band mates also take up space in your mind. Was actually weirdly into the fact that you wanted them all. Would you have two of them at once? That'd be so hot. Is giddy when you agreed to let him go first as long as he bought you dinner first. Told the whole group he hit. However, was a real one and did not tell them that they were potentially next.

Wonu

Oh? Okay then? You didn't even say it directly, but from how you were literally growling when talking about each member during the performance? Yeah you wanted that cookie, you wanted the whole fucking box of cookies. The bakers dozen, if you will. "Someone's libido is fucked." He mentioned, casually. You went flush after realizing how fucking feral you were acting. "Hey, you want what you want. I want you too, if that makes you feel any better." It did. It made you feel a lot better.

Jihoon

Could you even do that? Like that's a lot of dudes. Your body would need breaks, surely. He had no clue why he was focusing on the logistics so much, but he knew proper protection was a must. "Make sure they all wear condoms, don't get distracted." Solid piece of advice, but not the response you were expecting. Jihoon then showed you that he was ready for you anywhere and anytime by opening a random drawer in his studio, revealing a box of condoms. Extra large. Oh my god. You 100% put those condoms to use.

Dokyeom

"Sorry? What? Sorry?" He short circuited. You patted his shoulder and apologized. "Nononononono." You shouldn't apologize, it's your body! Oh, for freaking him out? No he's not freaking out... He's a grown man, perfectly capable of listening to a beautiful woman's sexual desires, especially if he's a part of them. "I just-" he sputters. "Me too?" Yes? Oh. So nice of you. Very generous. "Thank you." Adorable. You couldn't wait to ravage him.

Mingyu

Big softie, immediately asked to take you out for dinner. You grin at the prospect of princess treatment. And boy was he generous. Most selfless lover you've ever had. And the date itself was magical, he pulled out all the romantic stops. Truly, that night you didn't just fuck, Kim Mingyu, you made love to him. Definitely happening again... After you make your rounds though. Mingyu completely forgot you wanted to fuck the team. Was chill about it though. Very happy you had plans to return to him.

Minghao

"What do you mean by that?" You looked at him like he was stupid, confirming his suspicions. Another one you didn't actually tell, it just slipped out. While watching them practice, you pointed out Jihoon and Hoshi, started singing that two bad bitches song. Then muttered 'actually, all these bad bitches.' Minghao's interest was piqued. Really, the last person you wanted to tell was Hao, he could be awful... Judgey. But he was surprisingly very open minded. You supposed it wasn't that out of character. "So is this like a mission, or a fantasy?" Mission? Cool. "I'm very in support of women taking control of their sexuality's." Aka, 'I'm down to fuck.'

Seungkwan

"Slut." Automatic. Not a single regret. To be fair, he was calling you that already. You couldn't argue with him either. This would be the sluttiest thing you've ever attempted. Seungkwan was so proud. "You know you're gonna have to amp it up if you wanna pull the whole team, right?" Told you what to wear for who, how to act around who. Made you a slide show full of info, though, he gave you no info on himself. But then he finished his lecture and said. "And about the sex part, can't be a good slut unless you've had some proper experience." His voice was low when he spoke. And you had complete faith that Boo Seungkwan could make the best slut.

Vernon

"baller." He meant that shit too. High-key a power move. He's sure you'd have them all whipped in no time. And some of them liked to fucking spend! Not only could you have dick whenever you wanted, and also multiple lovers for different moods, but dinner dates, lunch dates, cuddle seshes, shoes, purses, nails, hair, Lego sets! Whatever you wanted! The world was your oyster! Vernon's always liked a woman who knows what she wants. "Question. Can you choke me?" The answer was yes.

Dino

"Reaaallllyyyy?" Chan wasn't judging. Okay he was judging a little bit, but just because it was his hyungs. "They're all so... Bleh." Like sure they were attractive and talented, but they were also his hyungs. He just didn't get it. What did they have that he didn't? Well a few of them are really buff... Some of them have quite the way with words... And Hoshi and Jeonghan were charismatic... So maybe they had a lot. But still, they're his hyungs!!! "Don't even bother with those guys, I'm sure once we're done you won't even want them." Only one way to find out.

(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

A/N: I want to run through svt like I'm on the track team. I really like Kwan's, like yes, training ark. Jihoon said wrap it losers!!!

Anyways, if you liked this pls talk to me about it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Comments or reblogs appreciated.