#mutuals are aloud to use me however they want

[ineedamonster]

Opening Tumblr to see a mutual liked and rebloged most of your posts is just about the best feeling 💜I love you I love you I love you I love you 💜

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ Rom-Com Gone Wrong

˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ takes place during their third year, mentions of injuries and blood, forced intake of aphrodisiac, unestablished relationship, mutual pining, love confession, both characters are 18, protected sex, implied unprotected sex, virgnity loss, misunderstandings, a bit angsty, bakugou is lowky ooc and gentle, this is really long

following a rough battle with a rather inconvenient villian and his quirk, y/n finds herself induced with aphrodisiac against her will. she wins the encounter, only to be told if she doesn't relieve her sexual desires within 24 hours with another individual she will die.

"i'll be the one to do it," mineta says, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation, flipping his non-existent hair off to the side if his shoulder. the girls, in unison, disagree verbally, knowing of his creepy tendencies.

"can't she just do it with a girl?" tsuyuri thinks aloud, attempting to find an easy way for you to feel more comfortable with the situation. "if that's the case, then i'll do it!" ashido declares, raising her hand in the air.

this has been the subject of conversation for the past hour or so. yes, your classmates and even teachers are conversing on what to do about your current state, on who will be the one to sleep with you. it's almost heartwarming, to know that your classmates care so much about you that they'd be willing to sleep with you if it means you'll live.

which is exactly what it means. exactly nine hours ago, you had a confrontation with a well-wanted villian. you knew of the risks, you knew of his horrendous and taboo quirk. you knew that he used his quirk to take advantage of women who were defenseless and practically leaving them for dead within 24 hours of interaction.

quirks like these were rare, none of your classmates nor teachers had any experience with this type of thing. originally, the teachers were going to discuss of this situation privately, but after almost three hours had gone by with no real possible solutions, they had decided to involve your dearest classmates to come up with something, anything to help save your life.

"no, according to the villian and the tiny information we were able to get out of him, it has to be done with a male." midnight had said, rubbing at her temple to ease her stress. your female classmates groaned with frustration, side-eyeing mineta with disgust.

"t-then i'll do it!" a new contender had volunteered. "y-you? y/n needs a real man, denki—," jirou had said, trying to play of her nervousness with a chuckle. "i agree." momo said sternly.

"no offense but.. how about the boys leave this discussion to the boys." she added on, having distrust in the intentions of her male classmates. "i know you boys just want to do what you can to help her, but we also have to think about how this will affect her mentally."

the topic carried on with the girls, occasionally one of the boys attempted to give a idea, but were almost immediately shot down due to it's risk.

admist to all the tension and debate, there was one who was uncharacteristically quiet. bakugou katsuki.

all of the boys were huddled into a circle, behind the girls, listening into their plan. however, it was bakugou who stuck out like a sore thumb. he kept his hands in his pockets, a rather stoic expression written onto his face as he stared up to the ceiling.

"i'll do it! you guys just gotta trust me!" mineta yelled once more, his body jolting with fear when he was met with clear resistance from the girls.

everyone was too wrapped up in figuring out a game-plan to even notice that bakugou had taken his leave, muttering a scoff at his classmates's immaturity and perversion.

he made his way to the dorms, his hand rubbing at the tense skin of his nape. bakugou stopped in his tracks, seemingly he wasn't the only one who had the same idea. his hands returned to their place in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of his classmate, todoroki shouto, standing a few feet away from your dorm room.

"what are you doing here?" bakugou asked, resting his body weight on his right leg. todoroki looked back at bakugou calmly, observing the blonde's stiff movements. "i want to help y/n-san." todoroki stated, glancing back at the door of your room.

bakugou scoffed at his answer, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "yeah right—you?" he hissed, coming up to todoroki and shoving him away from your door. "don't make me laugh. i'll be the one to do it."

todoroki stayed in place for a moment, blinking at bakugou's aggression and determination. he glanced once more at your door, and then back to bakugou before sighing with defeat and turning around to head god knows where.

bakugou scoffed once more, not taking his eyes off todoroki until he was well out of his sight. bakugou turned around, his red eyes staring intently at your door. he chewed on the walls of his mouth, wondering how to go about the situation.

as brash as he may be—he's not an idiot. he knows that if you don't end up getting any help within a few mere hours, you'll die. and thats not what he wants. to stand and watch while his dumb classmates argue over who will be the one to have the honor of having sex with you is something he won't abide with.

ೄྀ࿐

a soft moan escaped your lips at the feel of your fingers caressing against your sensitive folds. a drop of sweat ran down your flushed face, running down to your collarbone and dampening the sheer tank you were wearing.

there was a knot in your abdomen, a very tight knot, that has been yet to be undone. normally, when you had this kind of urge, you'd be able to satisfy it yourself. but it's been nearly eight hours since you'be been drugged, and the effects only get more and more intense with every passing minute.

you're tired. your body is coated in a thick layer of sweat, the room smells grossly of your own scent, and it's been eight hours—yet no release. tears sting at your waterline, your hand coming up to cover your pathetic whines and cries as your fingers scissor their way into your cunt, trying to find relief to your frustration.

you gasp with pleasure when your finger nails press ever so slightly against that one spot, hazy eyes going wide when you finally find it. your back arches off the bed, toes curling when you can barely press your fingerpads against that sweet spot, but nonetheless it's something.

your body jolts when you hear a light knock at your door, hands flying to grab onto your blanket to hide your half-naked body. you sat frozen on your bed, eyes watching the door.

a couple of moments later, once again the visitor knocked, snapping you out of your haze. you rushed to find any pajamas or clothes to wear, eventually settling on a pair of grey pajama shorts. the visitor knocks again once more, earning a groan from you. "g-give me a second!" you hiss loudly, dusting off your body and finally walking up to your door.

with a deep inhale, you open up your door a few inches, hiding your sweat-ridden body behind the large frame and peeking out your head to see the visitor.

your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of the familar blonde, his red eyes lidded low at you. "b-bakugou?" you stutter out, your cheeks blushing intensely when you feel your core throb at just the sight of him. "what... are you doing here?" you say, swallowing down the fat lump in your throat.

bakugou stares at you, his facial expressions uncharacteristically calm and unreadable. "..isn't it obvious?" he says nonchalantly, taking a step towards the door. his low tone heats up your body, making you impossibly warmer with embarrassment to top it off with your seemingly insatiable desire.

still, you don't move from the door, and if anything, push it forward so only a few centimeters remain between the frame and the door itself. your forehead rests against the wood, contemplating your options.

bakugou katsuki has come to your door to do the obvious with you. for many others, this would be a dream come true—and it almost is, for you, almost. tears cloud your vision once more at the thoughts that run throughout your head, he's only here because you'll die.

"let me in y/n,—", "no, i don't want you here." you interrupt, still hiding behind the door. bakugou's eyes widen slightly at your refrusal, not expecting you to shut him down given the situation.

to you, it's almost insulting—bakugou katsuki is here to have sex with you, to save you. your crush of many years, is here to have sex with you, but only because he feels the need to save you, not because he wants to.

bakugou sighs silently, he knows its a sensitive matter, that you're practically forced to have sex with someome that you possibly don't like just to live. his fists tighten up into a ball, his eyebrows furrowing at your stubbornness. but he won't have you die, he won't knowing he could help you.

"y/n. open the door or i'm going to break it down myself." he says sternly, his voice raising slightly. it sends shivers down your spine, but still you hold your ground. alas, you find it within yourself to close the door, only for it to be held open by bakugou who most definitely overpowers you when it comes to strength. with a grunt, your already weak arms give in, quickly dropping back to the floor as the door slams against the wall now that bakugou has won the short game of tug-o-war.

bakugou makes his way into your room, not even caring to check if the door handle has made a new hole in the wall. his mouth opens, ready to say something, only to purse into a straight line when he sees the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"i don't want you here." you mumble out, attempting to hide your tears by wiping them away as quick as they came.

with a grunt, bakugou is pulling you up to your feet, his hands gripping onto your shoulders while his lips smash against yours. the kiss is rough, almost uncomfortably stiff. and yet, you almost let out a moan of satisfaction just by him giving the worst kiss ever. he pulls away a moment later, his hands keeping you in place.

not like you'd be able to walk away even if you wanted, your gaze was fixated on his soft features, eyeing those lips of his. this time, it's bakugou whose walking away—and it's you who is running after him.

with haste, you push yourself forward to the blonde, your hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back to you. bakugou breathes out a grunt when your lips collide with his once more, desperate and clumsy, more teeth than tongue. you can't help but grab into bakugou's broad shoulders before finding better purchase by wrapping them around his neck, feet on all toes in order to reach his lips.

bakugou pulls away from you, quickly shutting the door and locking it. though, he barely has time to do the second, as soon as the door is closed, you're pushing him against it and shoving your body against his, encapturing his lips with yours once again. he swallows your desperate whines, his tongue fighting for dominance against yours. it's messy, it's not at all in sync—but just that alone has your body heating up than what you thought was possible.

and bakugou can feel it. his hands find purchase on the small of your waist—your skin is hot to the touch, almost fever hot. he raises an eyebrow when the feel of his skin on yours alone has you letting out a soft moan, much to your embarrassment. experimentally, bakugou's hands travel down to the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh lightly, earning a gasp from your lips.

seeing this, bakugou pulls away from you, a fat string of saliva connecting the two of you. his red eyes watch you tortuously, watching the way your delicate features contort with pleasure as his hands explore your ass, his squeezes getting more and more rough as your body reacts. his finger glides up to the hems of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings and eventually pulling on one to untie the knot, allowing your flimsy excuse of so-called shorts to drop and lay around your feet.

your cheeks burn at the way he stares closely at your half-naked body, eyes darting down to the ground when you realize that you didn't even put on any underwear. to you, bakugou is eyeing your body, looking for any imperfections and unsatisfying marks.

but to bakugou, he has to hold back a groan by biting on his lower lip at the sight of your bare cunt. his hands tighten it's grip on your hips, attempting to keep his composure. bakugou finally pushes himself off the door, leading you quickly by the small of your waist to your bed.

with a gentle shove, you're laying down onto your back, your legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. your eyes widen when bakugou's hands grab the hems of his shirt, pulling it up to his head and discarding of his shirt, revealing his rather toned abs and few scars he's gained in the various fights he's gotten into as a hero.

your mouth is agape in awe, practically drooling at the sight of his fit muscles and small waist. without another word, your hand subconsciously reaches for him, generously touching the muscles of his abdomen. for the first time of the night, bakugou finally shows some emotion, smirking widely at your infatuation with his abs.

"i know i got some great abs, huh?" he grins, his hand coming up to rest on the flesh of your thigh. his grin flattens to an slightly agape 'O' when your hand travels down lower to his lower pelvis, your nails caressing the skin, sending shivers down his spine. dangerously, it continues, your fingers meddling with the edge of his baggy pants, circling the metal button.

before you could do anything else, bakugou is grabbing your hand away, and much to your surprise, settles himself inbetween your bare legs, eyeing your exposed cunt. naturally, you rush to close your legs, but are stopped by his hands that rest on both of your inner thighs.

"don't try to hide yourself from me." he growls lowly, his cock growing hard in his pants at the fuller sight of your glistening cunt. a yelp leaves your throat when you are pulled closer to the edge of your bed, cunt mere centimeters from bakugou's face. your eyes close shut, palm hiding your face in embarrassment.

"open your damn eyes, you're gonna watch as i eat this pretty pussy." he hisses out before blowing lightly onto your folds, enjoying the way your thighs shiver. with a lick of his lips, bakugou dives into your cunt, his tongue dragging across your folds and into your core. you let out a rather loud moan at the feel of his tongue exploring your cunt, your hands diving down to entangle themselves in his short blonde locks.

as told, you watch bakugou devour your poor pussy through tears, moaning into your palm to not let anyone hear the way you're getting eaten out by one of your classmates. your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel bakugou enter his index finger into your tight walls, massaging your gummy walls without mercy.

"bakugou.." you mewl out, back arching off the bed when you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel. the fingers tied in his hair pull tightly on his roots, earning a hum of satisfaction leave his lips, vibrating against your clit so deliciously it has you sobbing out his name within seconds and squirming within his tight hold as you cum. tears run down your cheeks as your body convulses with pleasure, eyebrows furrowed intensely as your first orgasm of the night washes over you.

a minute later, you finally come down to earth, chest heaving heavily as your eyes focus down to bakugou who licks up the remains of your delicious juices. it's so over stimulating, but it feels so good, the way his tongue laps up your cum as if he was a starved man.

for a second, you close your eyes, basking in the sweet after-glow of your orgasm before a familar vibrating sound snaps you out of your bliss. bakugou holds up the pink bullet-vibrator within his hand, cocking his head to the right. "this yours?" he asks teasingly, a sly grin painted into his face.

before you could respond, bakugou is pressing the bullet against your clit, sending waves of overstimulated pleasure up your spine. you wiggle and shift on your bed, attempting to get away from it, from him, but in the heat of the moment you seem to have forgotten of bakugou's trained strength. he pins your hips onto the bed with ease with one hand, and holds the bullet to your clit with the other.

he evilly chuckles into your cunt, his tongue gliding into your tight hole. your cries and pleas are melodies to his ears, and he only stops when your thighs are shaking for a second time around his head and your pussy walls are tightening up around his tongue. he hungrily laps up your fluids once more, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit as he discards of the vibrator in order to grab onto the back of your thighs and practically smothers himself into your pussy.

finally, once he's deemed you cleaned up and not an ounce of your cum wasted, he pulls away from your drenched pussy. his chin glistens with your juices, his tongue lapping up any remains on his lips. his ruby red eyes watch as your chest heaves up and down, his hand grabbing your wrist that was covering your flushed face and discarding it to the side.

he passionately kisses you, not like the kisses you two shared earlier. rather, your inhaling his heavy breaths as his hips roll subconsciously into yours, his hard-on poking against your inner thigh. "bakugou.." you exhaled against his lips, your hand sliding inbetween your close bodies to palm his confined cock.

bakugou lets out a almost pained groan, his eyebrows furrowing at the feel of your hand brushing against his cock's tip. "fuck.." he groans, his head dipping down to your chest when your hand slides below his trousers and over his confined boner. "wanna help you too bakugou," you mumble shyly, batting those pretty eyelashes at him.

the tempered blonde seems to have been frozen in place at your unexpected boldness, his cock growing impossibly harder at your words. he curses under his breath when your hand glides in between the gap of his boxers, your fingers coming into contact with the skin of his cock.

you're so unexpected. it's all bakugou can ever think of. unlike all the others, you've surprised him the most. you've surprised him with your wits—instead of strength and speed. no matter how mean or offensive he's been to you, you've been nothing but a saint—going so far to even nurse him back to health after a particularly aggressive battle with a villian.

thats why he had to be the one to help you. after all you've done for him, he had to return the favor in the one time he could save your life, even if it meant having sex would save you. he wasn't about to let those ungrateful, clueless extras do it with you either when they didn't deserve the opportunity to have you so vulnerable for them.

and having sex with you doesn't seem too bad, not in the slightest. especially not when your hand is pumping his cock so deliciously. bakugou's lips apart slightly, a sharp gasp escaping when your palm tightens around his sensitive cock.

you jolt when bakugou's own hand wraps around your wrist firmly, practically slapping it away from his cock. you look up at him with filmy eyes, looking for an explanation within his own. "gotta focus on you," he mumbles under his breath, his hands coming down to your hips and dragging you down to him.

bakugou finally begins to undo his belt, the metal buckle causing your ears to tingle. he pushes down his pants to his lower thighs, for a second he glances up at you, to which you can see a small glimpse of the red tint that covers the apples of his cheeks and the way he stares intently at your features, most likely waiting to see your reaction.

he slides his dark red boxers down to the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock of his uncomfortable confines. and, just wow, maybe it's because you're quite literally drugged with a sex drug, or maybe he's just that perfect—but just the sight of his cock has your pathetic pussy walls clenching and throbbing around nothing.

your mouth salivates at the mere thought of his cock, and just now seeing it—god you just want him to fuck you already. without a thought, your hand reaches once more for him, only for bakugou to pin your wrist down to the side of your body, his own climbing on top of the bed. your legs come to rest on each sides of his hips, his thighs underneath yours while he sits on his knees.

it seems you're not the only one so horny, afterall, as bakugou wrapped his hand around cock, his hips inching closer to yours, his body jolted, eyes widening. his sudden movement has your heart dropping in your stomach, a cold sweat breaking out on your body. "w-what? what is it?" you stutter out, your hand crossing defensively over your clothed chest.

bakugou's cheeks seem to bloom more a shade of red as he leans back, searching for something in his pocket. "hah.. i almost forgot the condom.." he says, taking out the unmistaken small square packet out of his pocket.

you chuckle lightly at the mistake, feeling embarrassment for yourself as well. to think that you two were so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that you almost forgot the condom gives such a strange feeling in your stomach.

finally, bakugou puts the condom on, a bit shaky with embarrassment as he slides it on. all prepared, he looks up at you—possibly the calmest you've ever seen him, but there's a hint of seriousness and maybe even care with the way his eyebrows are furrowed lightly or how his eyes never leave your face.

"ready?" he asks cautiously, his hand gripped onto the underside of your thigh with the other resting on the side of your lower stomach. with your nod of approval, bakugou meets his thighs to your ass, his cock tip pressing lightly against your virgin hole.

before bakugou could go any further, your soft sobs stop him. his head immediately snaps up to yours, his eyes wide with shock. your eyes are once again wet with tears, eyebrows arched and lips frowning.

"i know this is not very convenient, y/n, but if we don't do this, you'll die-", he tries to say before he's interrupted by your sobs and hiccups. through fat tears and incoherent sentences, you finally manage to say something clear.

"it's not that." you practically hiss, surprising the blonde. "..then what is it?" he urges, a confused expression forming on his face. with a loud sigh, you groan loudly with anger and sadness, practically throwing your hands to your face as you try to wipe away your never-ending tears.

"i d-didn't want it to be like t-this!" you sob loudly, your shoulders jumping with every hiccup. before bakugou could press any further, the years of untold suffering and thoughts just came rushing to you, spilling out of your mouth like vomit. "i-i didn't w-want it to be l-like this! to happen like this!"

"oh my g-god! bakugou i've been in love with you since i've m-met you—and it–it hurts—for it to happen this way—you're only doing this just b-because you f-feel obligated to do i-it—not because you l-love me—" you mumble out, hands covering your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction.

"for it to ha-happen this way—it's like a whole prank..! like a fucking—slap in the face!" you say, practically yelling the last part as your hands fly down to the bed with frustration, finally meeting bakugou's gaze. your sobs quiet down, stomach churning at the realization of the word vomit you just had.

you thought he would be weirded out, maybe even make fun of you for it. but instead, bakugou is now looking at you with an unfamiliar gaze, full of something that seems to just be more than politeness and friendly care. sure, he's not smiling, but the way his red eyes are half-lidded, pupils dilated so big they might as well just be black, his eyebrows no longer furrowed but instead arched upwards with what seems to be surprise.

before you could say anything else, waves of sharp pain are shot up your spine as bakugou unexpectedly pushes in the tip of his cock, his arms now finding purchase by wrapping around your waist, lowering himself closer to you.

his lips press yours, slow and steady as he inches his fat cock into you. he pulls away from your lips with a grunt, his eyebrows arched downwards as he tries to set aside the way your cunt feels so heavenly wrapped around the end of his cock.

"i'm sorry for how i've been treating you." he says lowly, his teeth nipping at the pristine skin of your collarbone. "i just didn't know how to tell you—didn't think you felt the s-same," he breathes out, stuttering the last word when your walls clench around his cock. bakugou curses under his breath, trying to ground himself by pawing at your clothed breasts, sliding his hands under your tank to feel the bare skin.

bakugou's words has fresh tears forming once again at your water line. "the same..?" you think out loud, a hiccup escaping your throat at the realization.

"f-fuck, y/n—," he chokes out, his balls becoming flush with the curve of your ass. "bakugou.. the same?" you urge on, a small gasp leaving your lips when his cock tip glazes against your sweet spot. it takes bakugou to find the strength to answer, but he does with a groan, rising his upper body to have a better look at the sight of you.

"..yes the same you dummy." he finally confirms, his eyes unable to lock with yours, instead choosing to glue themselves to the sight of your tight pussy swallowing his cock. without wasting another second, your hands fly to his nape, pulling him back down to kiss him roughly. the two of you moan into the kiss, your hands desperately exploring the skin of his back while his continue to grope and massage your breasts.

"hah—i just couldn't allow it.. i didn't want the others to have you.." he groans out, his hips speeding up against yours. his teeth bite at your breasts possessively, leaving dark red marks over the unmarked flesh. his possessiveness sends a shiver up your spine, making you impossibly more hornier than you thought possible.

"baku—katsuki," you mewl out, your fingernails digging trails of red into the skin of his back. his head nods silently at your use of his first name, his ears tingling intensely.

his head tilts up to face yours, unprepared for what you were about to say. "please fuck me. i need you."

with a few words of heavy profanity, all previously known touches of gentleness are thrown out the window and bakugou is throwing your leg over shoulder and practically folding you in half. bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, if not your screams of pleasure would be heard by all the other people in these dorms—and he's not quite on board with any nobodies hearing your pretty moans.

bakugou practically jackhammers his hips into yours, his cock tip bullying your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head at the foreign feeling of your cervix being fucked, of your cunt being mercilessly destroyed by a fat cock. your hand flies up to the head board, desperately attempting to find purchase on anything to keep you grounded.

his cock grazing your sweet spot has you screaming once more into his palm, creaming around him for the first time that night. "f-fuck—" bakugou curses loudly, his teeth drawing blood on his lower lip in an attempt to hide own moans.

your cunt walls have a vice grip on his cock, practical almost leaving him unable to move as you cum around him. still, bakugou works his hips in and out, doing everything in his power to prevent himself from cumming just yet.

in an last ditch effort to do so, bakugou lifts his palm up from your mouth, flipping your body so you lay onto your stomach. he's quick to shove his cock back into your overstimulated cunt, rutting into you like a dog in heat. bakugou doesn't find it within himself to care when you're moaning so loud that the first floor can probably hear you, neither does he care that he's fucking you so hard that the bed frame begins to slam against the wall.

all he cares about is destroying your cunt, destroying you, something he's been wanting to do since he's met you. "fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n you feel so fuckin' good—i'm gonna cum," he babbles, his cock growing hard at the sight of your fat ass bouncing with every impact of his thrusts.

you're no better off than him, moaning his name desperately like a mantra. bakugou finally comes with a sharp and deep thrust, pushing his cock so deep it has the tip flush with your bruised cervix. he groans incoherent words, most likely profanities, as he cums into the condom, his hands gripping on the swell of your hips as he tries to ground himself.

you cum just at the unmistaken warmth that pools inside of you, tongue lolling out of your mouth pathetically. your body twitches underneath his weight, hands weakly grabbing onto his biceps. "katssshuki.." you mewl out, stars practically twinkling in your eyes.

bakugou pulls out of you with a sharp inhale, taking off the filled condom. his cock twitches when you stop him just as he's about to throw away, taking the cum-filled latex from his hand and holding it over your mouth, allowing the cum to drip onto your tongue and into your throat.

he watches you with wide eyes as you practically suck the cum out of the condom before throwing it into the trash bin on the side of your bed. you look at him with a grin, licking your lips generously before giggling.

bakugou's face twitches uncontrollably, any remains of the composure and the obvious "better safe than sorry", he has left is discarded before he practically pounces on you like a wild beast.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bakugou is jolted awake, his eyes darting to the door of your room. theres a couple of knocks, his eyes look for your clock, '5:04 AM'.

he shuts his eyes, fully okay with ignoring the late visitor before theres more knocks. bakugou, begrudgingly, gets up, only because he doesn't want you to wake up.

he wraps his lower body in a spare blanket, taking a few seconds to rub awaken more before he's inching the door open, just barely enough to see who the visitor is. though, his shoulders relax when he sees it's just mr. aizawa at the door, most likely checking up on your state.

mr. aizawa blinks unexpectedly at bakugou, surely not expecting him to answer the door. his expression softens at the realization, being quick to offer an explanation. "i was just coming here to see if y/l/n was alright.. but i see it's under control, right?"

aizawa punctuates the last word of his sentence with the tilt of his head, his eyes pointing out bakugou's half-naked body. bakugou in response sheepishly shrugs, muttering out a groggy 'yeah' before closing the door.

he stands at the closed door for a second, rubbing his eyes tiredly before turning around to go back to bed, your bed more specifically. he stops in his tracks for a moment before continuing, seeing that you're now sitting up and staring at him.

"katsuki.." you breathe out tiredly, practically purring when you feel his hand settle onto your hip, bringing you back down onto the bed with him.

the two of you share a chaste kiss, departing only to get a short breathe in before you're pushing your body against his, deepening the kiss once more for the nth time that night.

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[neostrayteez]

DANCE ALL DAY

PAIRING. jung wooyoung x female reader

WORD COUNT. 6.4k

SUMMARY. you couldn’t have asked for a better roommate than Wooyoung. until he asks you to stop bringing guys over.

WARNINGS. smut, profanity, brief alcohol use

PLAYLIST. “say so” by doja cat

LIKE IT LOVE IT NEED IT BAD TAKE IT OWN IT STEAL IT FAST

Sharing an apartment with a guy that was not your boyfriend always got you some weird looks, but you wouldn’t trade having Wooyoung as your roommate for anything.

That changed last night.

You had a bit of a system when it came to boys and it was foolproof. Your commitment issues and daddy issues banded together to make you totally undateable and so, you were sticking with the casual thing.

Which was a nice way of saying you were in a friends with benefits situation.

Up until now, it hadn’t been an issue. You mastered a balancing act of three guys - each of them a friend you trusted implicitly with your body and very rarely your need for affection. When you had an itch that needed scratching, you called up whichever boy was available and sent him home with a kiss after.

You weren’t noisy; you were very discreet. You never paraded your booty calls around your roommate. None of them stayed for breakfast or dinner.

And that was why you were stunned when Wooyoung asked, “Can you please stop bringing guys over?”

You blinked and immediately assumed the worst. “I’m sorry. Did one of them say something to you?”

Though given detailed instructions on how to behave when in your shared apartment, it would be just like San to say something snarky on his way out. Even Hongjoong wouldn’t pass up a chance to let your roomie know you were getting railed. Only in Seonghwa did you trust. He wouldn’t utter a word about what happened in your bedroom.

“No,” Wooyoung said, and you breathed out in relief. “It’s just… I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”

You sidled closer to him on the sofa and put a comforting hand on his arm, insisting, “No, this is your space, too. I won’t bring anyone into it if you’re uncomfortable.”

Wooyoung could barely look at you, which was definitely out of the ordinary. He glanced down at your hand on his arm like it unnerved him and that made you feel horribly out of place. Usually, you and Wooyoung were touchy with each other, like inseparable besties as well as roommates.

Most evenings consisted of you molded to him on the couch in front of the television, his arm around you and his hand on your waist or hip. Both of you were cuddly. There was nothing wrong with that.

Or so you had been led to believe.

“I’m uncomfortable,” Wooyoung said, making you worry even more.

“Oh. Okay.”

Wooyoung apologized again and quickly retreated to his room.

To say you were miffed would be an understatement. You cared deeply about Wooyoung. He was a great roommate and an even better friend, and you weren’t ready to lose him.

Determined to get to the bottom of things, you took out your phone and messaged each of your hookups and asked, Did you say something to my roommate the last time you were here?

No, was - thank goodness - the unanimous answer.

San, however, was the only one to ask, Why?

You knew better than to respond, because San would find a way to tease you for this. He was playful by nature and loved to get a rise out of you any way he could. He also had some rivalry with your roommate. They played the same sports, were in the same dance club, and had mutual friends on campus.

You couldn’t help yourself. San was unfortunately very easy to talk to and you were at a loss when it came to Wooyoung.

He doesn’t want me having sex in the apartment anymore, you replied.

San responded with a bunch of laughing emojis.

You frowned. For once, couldn’t he take things seriously? It’s not funny, you texted rapidly. He says he’s uncomfortable.

Yeah. Uncomfortable that he’s not the one giving you dick.

Your jaw dropped and you exclaimed aloud to an empty room, “What?!”

You called San and he picked up after the first ring, chuckling as he said, “You really didn’t know?”

“You’re serious?” You lowered your voice, mindful of your roommate in the next room. “Wooyoung is into me?”

“God, you’re dense. I don’t haul ass out of your apartment because I want to get away from you - I’m trying to avoid getting murdered by your roomie!”

You slumped back against the couch, shaking your head. Of all the bullshit, this was the one you didn’t anticipate. Wooyoung never hit on you. Not once. Sure, he flirted with you and you flirted back. It was harmless. If he had ever made a romantic move on you, you would have stopped it, but he didn’t.

“I really don’t know what to do with this information,” you whined, rubbing your brow.

San replied without missing a beat, “Bone him.”

“San…”

“It will break the spell! You’re this beautiful girl that doesn’t hide that she likes sex. He’s got you up like an angel on a pedestal. If he actually gets to touch you for once, maybe he’ll chill the fuck out.”

“Or it will completely fuck up our roommate dynamic,” you shot back. Running a hand through your hair, your imagination immediately went to images of Wooyoung. Having sex with him had crossed your mind before. Intrusive thoughts, but mostly just plain curiosity.

He was handsome. Duh. And that gorgeous smile? Whew. Naturally, you never voiced either of these opinions, because Wooyoung’s ego already struggled to fit into the apartment.

Rustling in the background brought you back to the phone call. It sounded like San was at the gym, as to be expected for someone with his physique. Wooyoung hit the gym a lot too. Lately, you noticed its effects on his arms and shoulders, leading to more intrusive thoughts you stifled down.

“Maybe,” San said in a cute voice. “You won’t know until you try.”

You pursed your lips. “I keep forgetting you get off to me fucking other people.”

San laughed loudly at that. “Do it or don’t do it. I’ll still come running when you call me.”

“Good to know. Bye, San.”

San, the little shit, had ruined your entire evening. You avoided Wooyoung like the plague, because you didn’t know what in the actual hell you were supposed to do now.

Talking to him would be the first step, obviously, but where would you even start?

You decided to get a second opinion, hoping this one would settle all of your doubts.

Hongjoong answered your call with a low, “What’s good?”

“Promise me you won’t laugh.”

“Okay?”

You whispered, “Does Wooyoung like me?”

There was a short pause followed by Hongjoong giggling.

“Joong!”

“Calm your perfect tits,” he chided playfully, then his tone took a dive. “But leave me the fuck out of it.”

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t say anything?!”

“What did you want me to say exactly? ‘Hey, your roommate is jacking off to us fucking.’ It would have killed the mood.”

“Not in San’s case,” you deadpanned.

Hongjoong chuckled.

You smiled at the sound of his laughter, but your lips slowly lowered into a frown. You sighed. “I guess I have to talk to him.”

“I guess you do.”

Hongjoong, of course, was no help, but this did mean that two out of three boys confirmed Wooyoung liked you as more than a friend. But you needed more than that. You needed more than reassurance.

You needed someone to tell you what to do. Matters of the heart were a foreign language to you.

That left Seonghwa, the feelings expert.

“Just talk to him,” he said sweetly, but with urging. “You know him. You’ve been living together how long?”

“Over a year.”

“Exactly.”

You glanced at the clock. You’d been on the phone with Seonghwa for almost an hour.

“Done stalling yet?” Seonghwa teased. He knew you too well.

You nodded, looking at a strip of pictures of you and Wooyoung taken in a photo booth last summer. “Almost.”

Seonghwa snickered.

“Thanks, Hwa.”

“Do you love him?”

You sucked in a breath like he just socked you in the stomach. “That’s a strong word.”

“As a friend?”

You chewed on your lip, glancing down at the photos again. “Yeah, I love him. He’s my guy.”

Wooyoung was the first person you saw in the morning and the last person you saw at night. He was always willing to study with you for hours on end, pulled his own weight in keeping the apartment tidy no matter how much he despised cleaning and complimented whatever you cooked. Even the food you burnt to an accidental crisp.

He made you laugh till you cried, cried freely with you during sad movies, and covered you tenderly with a blanket when you fell asleep on the couch. There were a few times you crashed at the dining table, your head on an open textbook and your neck at a very uncomfortable angle, but you woke up the next morning in your bed, because Wooyoung had carried you to your room and tucked you in.

Your roommate never overstepped your boundaries or made you feel like you owed him in any way. He was just there - always; a steady, reliable presence in your chaotic life.

The more you sat and thought about him, the more you accepted how much love you had for Wooyoung.

“I think you answered your own question,” Seonghwa said and you could tell by his tone he was smiling.

You thanked him again and said goodbye, wallowing in the silence and your conflicted feelings, and weighing your options. And what you decided to do next.

In the evening, when Wooyoung came home, his hair still damp from a shower after soccer practice, he immediately let out a loud approving sound. “What is she cooking?” your roommate exclaimed, practically kicking off his shoes.

You grinned from ear to ear. “Get in here and find out!”

Wooyoung hung up his things before rushing into the kitchen, eyes darting toward the crackling on the stove. “Fried rice?” he asked, peering over your shoulder.

You held out a spoonful to him, hovering your hand underneath to catch any falling pieces, and shoveled it into his mouth.

“Mm!” Wooyoung was dramatic as always, making a bunch of noises and smacking his lips together. Though, in his defense, it was very good. “Delicious!”

“And lots of side dishes,” you said, pointing at the collection of bowls on the counter full of seasoned vegetables and the like. “I know how you get after practice.”

“Like a bottomless pit,” Wooyoung quipped as his stomach rumbled, leaving the kitchen to set the table in the living room in front of the television.

As you ate together, you asked about his day and he asked about yours. You both spoke casually about upcoming assignments and exams, then switched to spring break which was looming.

All the while, you caught yourself staring at Wooyoung. You were waiting to see that look in his eyes - the unmistakable sign a boy was into you. But all you saw was affection. Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled like stars whenever he looked at you, but that was what you had come to expect from him.

He always looked at the world around him like it was one big playground for him to explore and conquer.

And in that moment, you realized you wanted your body to be added to that list.

After clearing the table, bellies full, you set out two glasses and filled them with red wine.

Wooyoung watched you top off his glass and joked, “Trying to get me drunk?”

You snorted. “Me first.”

That had his attention. “Oh?” Wooyoung took a sip. “What’s bothering you?”

Feeling his eyes on you, you gulped down some of the wine and asked, “Can we talk?”

“Of course.”

You propped your head on your hand, studying him. In the past day, you had become hyper aware of Wooyoung, desperate to know if he felt something for you before you made a fool of yourself.

He watched you with that same adorable smile, an extra twinkle in his eyes courtesy of the soft buzz setting in from wine. But hadn’t he always looked at you like that?

Yes.

Wooyoung mirrored you, holding his head on his hand, making you smile bashfully.

You took a breath and finally said, “Why don’t you want me bringing guys over anymore?”

Your roommate frowned and his pretty smile dropped, every feature of his face shifting to fear like a spooked animal. He sat up and fiddled with his glass. “I told you. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Can you hear us? I’ve always been careful to be quiet and not disturb you.”

“No. I mean, yeah. I can hear a little bit, but…” he trailed off.

“But?”

Wooyoung turned to you sharply. “Do you like those guys?”

You shrugged. “They’re my friends. I like having sex with them. I trust them.”

Blunt and to the point. Wooyoung always respected that about you, but it wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “Why don’t you date them?” he pressed.

You pretended to wince and said, “Sorry, Woo. Only my therapist is welcome on that conversation.”

Wooyoung was flustered and lowered his head to hide it. He so badly wanted to understand you. “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”

Your first instinct was to comfort him, but you couldn’t understand why this was difficult for him to talk about. Wooyoung had always been open and fearless about everything. Why did that stop with you?

“I feel like I’ve made things awkward between us now,” he said with a heavy sigh.

Yeah, you thought, but you didn’t voice that because you didn’t want it to be true. You decided your friendship with Wooyoung was far more important than getting laid and you would make arrangements not to fool around in the apartment anymore.

But that wouldn’t solve the real issue. If Wooyoung liked you, as your trio of fuck boys were certain he did, things would only fester.

“Answer me one thing and answer honestly.”

Wooyoung nodded. “Okay.”

“If me bringing guys into our apartment bothers you, I won’t do it anymore. I’ll respect your space.”

Wooyoung thanked you.

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger to let him know you weren’t finished. “If you want me to stop bringing them over because you’re jealous I’m having sex, then we need to talk about it.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he became understandably defensive. “I’m not jealous. I hook up with people, too!”

“Alright then.”

“It’s just…”

“What?”

Wooyoung scratched the back of his head. He wanted to be honest. It was in his nature, but he regretted the words the moment they left his big mouth. “When you’re with them, I know what you’re doing. I’m not an idiot. And… it turns me on.”

You made a face. Damn you, Choi San.

It was just about the sex. There were no deeply rooted feelings. Wooyoung was just a boy and you were just a girl, and knowing you were getting fucked aroused him. It was basic biology.

“You could always ask to join in, you know,” you said dryly, hoping it would put him at ease.

Wooyoung did the last thing you expected - he visibly bristled. The idea infuriated him. His brows stitched and his nostrils flared as he snapped, “No. Hell no. I would never share you. I wouldn’t let any man touch you but me.”

Your lips parted. Damn it. You were wrong. The fuck boys were right, after all.

Wooyoung realized what he’d done - what he admitted to you - you, his best friend, his roommate and his unrequited crush. A secret he had successfully hidden for months and just spilled all over you.

“I… fuck!” Wooyoung stammered, knowing damn well there was no recovering from this humiliation. “I’m so fucked now. Aren’t I?”

The corner of your mouth lifted. “Only if you want to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stood up slowly and told him, “I’m going to my room now. Do you want to come with me?”

Wooyoung stared up at you in disbelief and there was a cute crack in his voice when he said, “To your room?”

“Yes.”

Your roommate was on his feet in the time it took you to blink.

You grabbed him by the hand and led Wooyoung with you into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You stopped at the foot of your bed and turned around, smoothing your hands up his chest and to his head, winding your fingers into his hair.

Wooyoung held onto your waist, his eyes glazed over like he couldn’t believe this was happening. He stared at your lips before scanning your face, searching for any sign of hesitation.

He found none.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, tipping your head back and closing your eyes.

Wooyoung met his lips to yours slowly, sending a pleasant heat rushing through your body.

You couldn’t help but smile. He kissed you gently and intimately, and tightened his arms around you to bring you flush against him. You hummed a little as you melted into the warmth of his body and deepened the kiss.

Wooyoung broke reluctantly from your lips to search your face again, hoping you liked kissing him as much as he liked kissing you, and smirked when he saw the daze in your eyes.

“Wow,” you said, looking at him hungrily. He had just opened a well deep inside you and you were ready to have it filled.

“Yeah.” Wooyoung swallowed the lump in his throat. The tension in his chest was almost painful, the ache his body had for you was even worse.

“Keep going.”

Wooyoung didn’t need to be told twice. This time, when he kissed you, it was scalding and heavy, causing a catch in his breath.

You held onto his arms as he moved forward, legs bumping into yours. When the backs of your knees felt the edge of the mattress, you fell back and took him with you.

“Fuck,” Wooyoung groaned before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You fisted a hand in his hair and hooked your legs around his hips. That got Wooyoung’s attention, because he grunted and pressed himself against your clothed sex in a heat-seeking thrust.

“You wanna get naked?” you asked, nibbling at his lips.

Wooyoung chuckled. “Is that a trick question?”

You batted your lashes at him coyly. “I’m just following your lead.”

With a shake of his head (because he still hadn’t accepted you were actually beneath him), Wooyoung sat up, your legs still wrapped his waist, and stripped off his shirt.

You helped him get it over his head and immediately brushed your hands over his toned chest and abs. He was hard to the touch, and hot as hell. Like he carried the sun inside him. It would make sense, considering the way his smile always lit up the room.

Wooyoung snickered as your hands bumped into his, hurriedly trying to undress each other, stealing kisses in between. You shimmied his jeans down his legs and Wooyoung lost his balance, landing on you. He distracted you from teasing him for it by slotting his lips back to yours, swallowing your laughter.

Dragging your fingertips down his back, you hummed into his mouth, trying not to think about how crazed he made you, how badly you wanted him to touch you until he’d felt every inch of you. Wooyoung was trying and failing not to think about your breasts against his chest, but the brush of your perked nipples on his skin made him buck his hips into you.

You gasped for breath when Wooyoung trailed wet kisses down your neck, finding a sensitive spot to suck and bruise. You rocked into him, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against your sex, and whimpered. Your pulse was out of control, thundering through your body. You wondered if he could hear it.

The little noises you made as he nibbled at your neck and palmed over your breasts, teasing your nipples, had Wooyoung endlessly swearing. Fuck’s sake, every single thing she does is so fucking pretty.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wooyoung purred in your ear, smashing his lips on yours before you could answer with a kiss that made your heart stop altogether.

You were running out of patience at breakneck speed. You wanted him inside you then and there before you lost your mind. If he only knew that you were aching for him, but you were too busy kissing him to admit it. Instead, you drifted your hands down his body and grabbed at his cock.

Wooyoung finally tore himself away from you to strip out of his boxers. You licked your lips the moment his hard cock slipped free and got on hands and knees, reaching for his dick and fisting the head.

“Shit,” Wooyoung whined, staggering out a moan. You’d wasted no time and leaned forward, steering his cock into your mouth and sealing your lips around it.

Don’t come, Wooyoung told himself. Repeatedly. But it was probably in vain. The girl he liked since the moment he met her - you - who was always in the room beside his, but felt like worlds away, was touching him.

And not just touching, but sucking the soul out of him.

Wooyoung said your name shakily, getting a handful of your hair and pushing on your head in an attempt to slow you down, because fucking hell, you were relentless. You chuckled, sending vibrations down his cock and to every corner of his body and kept bobbing, taking him deeper into your throat.

“Oh, fuck. Baby, please,” Wooyoung cried, knees buckling and thighs trembling. At this point, he didn’t care how much noise he made. You deserved to hear every damn note.

You worked him up with your saliva, using your tight fist at the base of him while your mouth focused on the head. You watched the lines of his abs flex with restraint and his rapid breaths. Next on your to-do list would be leaving hickies all along his chiseled stomach and chest. You wanted to mark up his perfect skin and see what other sounds you could get out of him for it.

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. His hips thrust forward no matter how badly he fought it, shoving his cock further into your throat. A wet choking noise was his reward and it made his dick twitch with arousal. Your roommate quickly looked down to see if he’d gone too far, but instead, he saw you staring up at him, sinking toward him until you had swallowed every last inch of his cock, gagging loudly and making tears glisten in your eyes.

Fuck.

Wooyoung tipped his head back, lips parted with pleasure, and moaned at the top of his lungs. His eyes rolled. All the blood in his body rushed to his cock. He felt light-headed and shaky, imagining you sucking every drop of cum out of his dick until he was spent.

“Damn it,” he whined, both hands in your hair now. He held on tight, matching your pace and slowly thrusting into your mouth. His moans pitched higher with desperation. “I’m gonna come,” Wooyoung warned, panting, chest heaving, pleading your name to either finish him or have some mercy.

He would get neither for now. You pulled away from his cock with a wet pop, rocking back onto your knees, his fingers falling out of your hair. Wooyoung looked at you worriedly, his face flushed with heat and an adorable red staining his cheeks, and swallowed to wet his throat.

Tantalizing slow, you laid back, propping on your elbows and spreading your legs apart. “Condoms are in the top drawer,” you said offhandedly, cocking your head toward the nightstand beside your bed.

Wooyoung’s eyes were on your folds, his mouth watering at how they glistened with need. Blowing him did that to you? I’m screwed, he thought.

You were more than ready for him to fuck you and you weren’t sure you could make it any more obvious than holding your thighs wide open for him, but when Wooyoung suddenly dropped to his knees at the end of the bed and buried his face in your cunt, you cried out in surprise.

Pleasant surprise, that is.

Oh, fuck, you thought, biting your lip to keep from saying it like a mantra. Your head fell back and your eyes winched closed, a moan escaping on your exhale.

Wooyoung got your legs on his shoulders, his hands anchored to your hips, and found your clit with his tongue. He wanted to drop comments about how wet you were and another comment about how good you tasted. Both of them very horny and lewd, of course. But Wooyoung would have to take his tongue out of your pussy to speak and that just wasn’t worth it.

You started squirming and Wooyoung knew he was on the right track. Your hands flew to his head and your fingers winding into his hair tightly made a groan rumble in his chest. He wanted you to pull his hair as hard as you could, right on the edge of being painful.

A hungry, persistent suck of your clit did just that. You arched on the mattress, your body bowing at the pleasure between your legs and you tugged on Wooyoung’s hair at the roots, making him break from your sweet cunt to let out a loud raspy moan, sneaking an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh before diving back in.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” you cried, writhing beneath him, squirming in his arms. Wooyoung was finally using a little pressure to keep you in place and you were suddenly very aware of how much stronger he was than you.

Wooyoung could feel his cock twitching. Your sex was overloading every one of his senses, making his cock so hard he began thrusting his hips, trying to find some friction. He loved that you were trying to escape him; it meant the pleasure was almost too much. Kinda like when his dick was lost in your throat.

We’re even now, he thought with a grin.

You turned on your side and Wooyoung let you, latching onto your clit, out to ruin you for anyone else. Your body tensed, coiling and coiling, about to snap. Your breaths were loud, your chest heaving with them. Clamping your thighs on Wooyoung’s head - much to his delight - your voice cracked when you said, “I’m coming. Wooyoung, I’m coming.”

Wooyoung reeled his hand back and landed a palm on your ass, sending a loud smack through the room and a vicious sting across your skin. And it finished you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you moaned his name, shuddering with orgasm. Wooyoung kept toying with your clit, his lips wet and warm, and you thrashed in his arms.

“Stop! Please,” you begged, yanking on his hair.

Which only turned Wooyoung on more, but he obeyed. He parted reluctantly from your pussy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and stared down at his handiwork, having felt your sex gushing and clenching with release.

“Goddamn, baby,” Wooyoung said with a growl, giving your ass another slap. Before the night was out, he was going to make your body want him and him only.

You blinked to clear the fog in your eyes, still panting harshly. Hongjoong was an expert at eating pussy, but Wooyoung was going to give him a run for his money at this rate.

“Put a condom on,” you said bluntly.

Wooyoung rushed over to the nightstand, cursing himself for looking so eager. He grabbed a packet from the drawer and ripped it open with his teeth.

You followed his every move with your eyes, salivating over that stiff cock curving toward his abs. Your walls were still pulsing from the orgasm he’d given you and you shamelessly wanted to fuck his brains out in retaliation.

As Wooyoung finished fitting the condom on his length, you pulled him onto the bed by his shoulders and straddled his lap. Your roommate grinned, getting off to how badly you wanted him, and held onto your waist for dear life.

Rising up, you steered his cock into your entrance and starting sinking down on him. You were so wet with release, he slid in easily at first, but the fit was tight and made Wooyoung moan with his whole chest.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, lifting up and down, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him. You underestimated just how big he was and sucked in a breath when his cock rubbed against your sweet spot.

Wooyoung took your reaction to mean you were in pain. “Slow down,” he whispered, running his palms over your sides and breasts to soothe you. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I want it,” you said breathlessly, working your pussy on his length until he was finally sheathed inside.

Wooyoung wondered if you wanted the other boys this badly. Did you talk like that to them too? Did you take them as eagerly as you took him? Did you have that same euphoric look on your face when they were inside you?

But he dared not ask. He was too afraid of the answer. If you said yes, then Wooyoung was just another boy to you. If you said no, then he was different. Maybe even special.

The last thing he needed was hope that you returned his feelings.

Wooyoung exhaled loudly, releasing the breath he’d been holding, and let his hands fall to your hips. He grinded his teeth and felt his lashes fluttering, his eyes wanting to roll back in his head at the hot vice of your perfect cunt.

He was definitely ready to square up with the other boys if they came knocking at your door again.

You hummed at how full you felt and rocked your hips a little, making a tiny circle. Combing your hair out of your face, you glanced down and locked eyes with Wooyoung.

There was no word that could describe how he was looking at you. It surpassed lust and worship and landed closer to nirvana.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumbled, but everything in your face and in your voice screamed that you didn’t mean it. You wanted him to only look at you that way for the rest of your life.

“Like what?”

“Like this is the best pussy you’ve ever had.”

“Well…,” Wooyoung said, lips spreading into a grin. “You’re not wrong.”

You snickered.

Wooyoung softened and reached for you, cradling your face in his hands and gently pulling you down until you were chest to chest and pressing your lips to his. You propped yourself over him and sucked on his tongue in your mouth, tasting your release.

Mm. This was a little too good.

Wooyoung broke from your lips and ran his thumb affectionately over your cheek. Then he trailed his hands down your back and got a hard grip on your hips, and said, “Fuck me.”

You fully intended to. Sitting back up, you braced your hands on his abs and started to ride him. The rest of the world faded away. There was only you and Wooyoung and the pleasure you took from each other’s bodies.

Every time you wondered if you were going too hard or too slow, or if your pace wasn’t making him feel good, you peered down at Wooyoung and saw only lust. His hands on your hips kept you steady, kneading you almost in reassurance.

Ironically, Wooyoung was grateful for the condom. It kept him from blowing early. A grunt left his lips now every time you dropped back down on him, using his cock to stroke yourself to another orgasm. Sweat cast a pretty sheen on your skin.

“I can’t,” you whined, grinding yourself on him. “I’m so close, baby. I need you.”

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, rolling over with you underneath him. He slapped his hips into yours, thrusting hard and deep in your slick cunt, and buried his face in your neck.

He would get you the rest of the way if it was the last thing he did.

You wanted to chant his name, but no sound came out. Instead, you dragged your nails down his spine and found purchase in his hips. Wooyoung didn’t slow down as he reached for your hands, pinning your arms to your sides and gloving his cock in your pussy at a desperate pace.

The weight of him on top of you sank you deeper into the mattress. He was all you could feel, taste and smell. Your bodies were damp with sweat, his and yours mixing, and a wet slap echoed through the room each time he drove inside you.

Every stroke of his cock made you more and more crazy and restless, drunk on him. “You feel so good,” you whispered, grazing your teeth over the curve of his shoulder. “You’re so deep. I want to come with you. Please. Wooyoung…”

Wooyoung let out a pained groan muffled against your neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he fucked a girl this hard. If ever. And you were eating it up, that wet pussy sucking him in and clenching when he was balls deep. Her body loves me, was all he could think.

If only your heart would follow.

Wooyoung lifted his head and, crumbling at the pleasure on your face, crashed his lips on yours, flicking his tongue in your mouth and kissing you hurriedly. You couldn’t really kiss him back - you were too busy panting - and Wooyoung inhaled every sound you made, branding them into his mind forever.

Because he knew this could be the first and last time he would get to touch you.

So, Wooyoung kept stroking you to the edge, never letting up for a second, his pace fast and his thrusts hard, perfectly rough. You bounced your hips to meet him, hooking your legs on his, your toes curling as your walls kneaded his cock.

“Come for me,” Wooyoung hissed, pinning you to the bed. “Love me.”

You met his eyes, opened your mouth to answer, and lost yourself to the force of his body, screaming his name. It was more intense than the first, making your vision blur and your ears ring.

The moment Wooyoung felt you clamp down on his cock, he swore in his mother tongue and his pace turned ragged as he started releasing into the condom, moaning endlessly through his pleasure. He worked both of you through the aftershocks, letting your walls milk every last drop out of him.

He was so fucking loud and noisy. You loved it.

With one more satisfied groan, Wooyoung collapsed beside you. Other than both of you gasping for breath, the room was eerily quiet, filling with a stiff heaviness.

Post-nut clarity. Right on time.

Wooyoung got to his feet, disposing of the condom. His legs felt boneless, wobbly even. He scratched the back of his head, thinking about how hard he came. How hard you came.

You stared blankly, still reeling. Sex with your roommate was not supposed to be that good. You were only going to fuck him to break the spell like San suggested and instead, you were drowning in just how good your body felt after he touched it.

Sex with San was fun, but not like this. Sex with Hongjoong was vicious, but not like this. Sex with Seonghwa was passionate, but not like this.

No one had ever made you feel like you did at that moment.

When you looked at Wooyoung, from his soft cock to the pretty flush on his cheeks to the bulging veins in his arms, you instinctively spread your thighs a little. You wanted him again and again. Your body was begging for it.

To your relief, Wooyoung joined you on the bed, flopping onto his back at your side, though there was an obvious tiny gap between your bodies.

“Wow,” you said, winded.

Wooyoung shot you an amused look, crooking his brow. “Surprised?”

“A little.”

He chuckled.

Once you caught your breath, you staggered into the bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you were suddenly mindful that you were naked and considered covering yourself.

Had the spell been broken? Was Wooyoung done with you after he’d finally gotten what he wanted?

Love me.

You remembered Wooyoung said that. You almost missed it on the edge of your orgasm, but it hadn’t been a dream. Wooyoung had whispered, “Love me,” into your open mouth.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Wooyoung, and it took you a moment to realize you were looking at him affectionately. Seeing he hadn’t bothered dressing, you decided not to either.

Wooyoung turned to you, feeling your attention on him, and propped his head on his hand. You could tell he was studying you as he always did, reading you like a book. “What’s wrong?”

“Are we… okay?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“I, um,” you hesitated, biting at your lip like you always did when you were nervous. And being vulnerable. “I’m not really used to having someone stay after.”

Wooyoung knew that. The boys got kicked out pretty quickly once you were done. He smiled softly and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

You blinked. It surprised you that everything inside you screamed for him to stay. That was a strange feeling for you, to say the least.

“I can go to my room,” he said playfully, sitting up and moving to the edge of your bed. “But if I’m being honest, I really wanna cuddle the living shit out of you right now.”

You fought a laugh, but it showed on your face. You walked over to your roommate, stood between his legs, and braced a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart underneath. You liked how it felt.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you said, “I don’t want you to go. Stay. Please.”

Wooyoung was over the moon, landing somewhere between the stars. That was what he hoped you would say more than anything. He put his hand over yours on his chest. “Did you think I’d be over you if you slept with me?”

You nodded.

Wooyoung shook his head. “Nah, baby. I’m even deeper now,” he whispered, drawing you into his arms with a mischievous grin.

You smiled, cradling his head in your hands, and kissed him.

Your roommate pulled you onto the bed, molding himself to your back and managing to drape a blanket over your naked bodies. You decided to turn over and face him, smiling when his arm tightened around your waist.

“This is nice,” Wooyoung said, leaving a sweet kiss on your brow before closing his eyes contentedly.

“Yeah.” You snuggled deeper into his warm chest and tucked your head beneath his chin. “It is.”

END.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

“Are you blind? I love you!” (“I Love You” Prompts List) + “kiss/touch me, everywhere” (Praise/Soft/ETC Smut Prompts) with Tony Stark please? 😃

Secretly in love

PAIRING || Tony Stark x Bounty Hunter!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 950 words

SUMMARY || You and Tony have been madly in love with one another for years, but to the outside world, it looks like you're harboring a deep-rooted hatred for one another. Feelings are revealed when it almost goes wrong during a mission, and the sexual tension between you two is finally resolved.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Enemies to lovers. Idiots in love. Mutual pining. Misunderstanding. Use of Y/N.

SMUT || Oral (F receiving). Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for giving me this amazing idea as well as proofreading! I am forever grateful for you, bestie! 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Bounty Hunter!Reader @fandom-free-bingo Maritime May || 'My Old Man's Got a Problem' @kinky-things-happen || Cunnilingus

@marvel-smash-bingo || Enemies To Lovers @mcukinkbingo || Trope: There's only one bed @sweetspicybingo Hurt/Comfort || Human shield

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

As soon as you got Steve's phone call about a meeting at Avengers Tower, you were on your way, knowing they would need your help once again. A few years ago, you were hired by SHIELD to do your job as a bounty hunter for them when they needed you, and today's one of the rare occasions they have asked for your help.

By now, you knew the drill. Get changed into your tactical gear before heading up to the meeting room, as they will brief you right before going on the mission. Just as you're about to head into one of the gym's changing rooms, you spot the man you're always looking forward to seeing: Tony Stark. However, you'd never tell him that because, to the outside world, you both have a deep-rooted hatred for one another.

He doesn't say anything as he goes to change, though he wishes he could. He has to hold up this facade of not liking you, but he would love to do nothing more than fuck you right then and there as he tells you how badly in love he is with you.

The moment you walk into the briefing room, you're greeted by the happy faces of Steve and Natasha and the seemingly emotionless face of Tony. He's less than impressed with your presence, but you're used to it by now.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Stark?" Natasha asks, making him glare at her when you can't help but chuckle at her question.

"My old man's got a problem with me being here, Nat. You should know that by now," you say, making her laugh aloud, and Tony rolls his eyes at your joke. Once you've taken your place next to Natasha, Steve explains the mission you've been called in for.

"Y/N, you're here to take Nat's place during the mission. While she's an amazing spy and fighter, we need someone with your abilities, so you'll be going on the hunt with Tony. This will be a perfect bonding moment between you two, and I hope you two will finally learn to behave during the mission. There's no one to save your asses when it goes wrong, so you two must work together to finish this mission successfully."

Once the briefing is over, Tony and you go to the Quinjet, accompanied by Steve, who gives you the last instructions before it's officially time to leave. During the trip, neither of you says much aside from a few short comments, and when you're there, the only messages shared relate to the matter at hand.

Only when Tony throws himself in front of you as a human shield is he getting a reaction out of you, and not one of hate. As soon as the mission is successful, you get to the hotel room and immediately turn to him to give him a piece of your mind.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Stark? I could handle it perfectly-" is all you can say before he cuts you off.

"Are you blind?" he asks with a pointed tone. "I love you!"

"You... love me?" you ask him, your entire demeanor softening as soon as the words leave your lips. After holding up this facade of being enemies, letting the mask slip momentarily feels good.

"I do, Y/N. However, when I first met you a few years ago, I thought you didn't like me, so I put up this front. I guess it was easier to hate you than to show anyone - and more specifically, you - how I'm feeling," he says as he walks closer. With every step he sets closer, your heartbeat steadily rises.

Rather than returning his words, you close the gap between you two as you grab his hair, your lips molding together with his perfectly. The moment your lips are pressed on his, a new world opens for you two, and you're not sure how you ever could've lived without him.

"I love you too, Tony. I want you to kiss and touch me. Everywhere."

With those words, Tony pushes you back onto the bed you were in front of. You land with a smile, enthusiasm, and a need for Tony seeping into every fiber of your being. With skilled fingers, he undresses you completely, leaving not a single inch of your skin covered, before stepping out of his clothes, too.

"I can't believe I finally get to have a taste of you. I've dreamt of this moment so many times, and now I won't let you leave this bed until it's time to go home," he grumbles as he gets onto the bed, your legs spreading as you're waiting for his arrival. As soon as he's comfortable between your thighs, he dives in with an enthusiasm that has you arching your back and pulling his hair, your hips grinding against his face, seeking the friction he's willing to give you.

"Close, I'm fucking-" is all you can say as he latches onto your clit, pushing you over the edge with a scream of his name. He doesn't waste any time as he climbs over you, his cock immediately lining up as he carefully works his thick length into you.

"That's it, you're taking me so well, Gorgeous. It's a good thing there's only one bed here because there's no fucking way you're sleeping anywhere else from now on," he tells you, and you nod as he pounds into you, only prolonging your high with every thrust.

When you two return from the mission, Steve and Nat look at each other approvingly, knowing their plan worked perfectly, and you two are happier than ever.

[ithaquakisser]

if i can do a headcanon request could make ithaqua jealous of another hunter with you being survivor, in a two hunter match

please, if it's not in the way❤

— Jealous Ithaqua in a Duo Match...

Synopsis; Ithaqua finds himself in a pack hunter match with another masked hunter, The Ripper. The two of them agree on a friendly match. However, Ithaqua doesn't seem to appreciate your lack of attention on him.

CW; N/A

WC; ≈520

Note; This was actually on my mind for a bit! Just the other day I spoke with a mutual about Ithaqua trying to seek out the reader's attention, what a coincidence you brought this idea to mind! I also had a situation a bit similar to this in a duos match... Everyone kept crowding around the other hunter so I had to take matters into my own hands, hehe. /j

♡ Ithaqua could never bring himself to say it aloud, but he gets jealous quite easily. If he’s not wearing his mask, you could see how he’d visibly pout or grimace. He does not do well with hiding his jealousy, and often at times his actions already does the talking for him. Ask him, and he’ll never say it himself. “Me? Jealous? What makes you think that?”

♡ It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he does not trust others to behave well with you. Despite the reassurance you’d give him, you cannot seem to tame the green-eyed demon inside of him that’d leave him in disquietude when your eyes are on someone else. His actions are subtle, but speak paragraphs upon paragraphs of words.

♡ When it came to a particular pack hunter match, he found it hard to contain himself. Being paired with another masked hunter, Jack, the two of them agreed on a friendly match for the sake of sparring themselves the trouble. Survivors would crowd the two of them with beaming smiles, yet only yours caught his eyes. Your grin was enough to make his heart jump in place, albeit seeing you pan your attention to the other hunter only shattered his aspirations. He’d hide his discontentment beneath his mask, biting the inside of his cheek.

♡ His mask shielded the moue on his face. Despite all the other survivors that’d crowd him, he still only wanted you to look at him. He made it his goal to gain your attention. Even if it were a mere glimpse of your face. Heart pounding against his chest, he’d use his ability to pull you away from Jack. His face heating up when you’d bump into him with a perplexed expression. Ithaqua would pick you up and carry you away from the hunter and the other survivors, carefully dropping you off at a cipher.

♡ He would not leave you alone, and he’d remain by your side for the rest of the match. He’d follow behind you whilst you tried to finish the remaining ciphers. Occasionally he’d jest, pulling you away from the cipher with his ability. Ithaqua would even use abnormal to reset the cipher’s progress to impede the match’s completion, all just to have some spare time with you. He knew very well what he was doing, even if he was pestering you, he at least still had your attention.

♡ He’d refuse to let you go, carrying you from cipher to cipher. Leaving the survivors tilting their heads in confusion, questioning the relationship between you two. If no one had known of your relationship prior, they’d certainly know subsequent to this match. The moment Jack would waltz close to you, he’d pull you away. The hunter heeded the message with no further questions, simply nodding his head and proceeded to go about with the other survivors.

♡ After the pack hunter match you’d definitely ask him about the events of said match. His face was flushed, he’d simply turn his head away and deny each word you spoke. “Jealous? I was not jealous.” In the end, you’d always find yourself holding his mask in hand, peppering his face with kisses. Teasing him in regards to his jealousy, whispering sweet nothings. "You know I am yours, there's no need to fret."

[svnflower-writes]

real sweet but i wish you were sober

Description: in which the mutual pining becomes something both Remus and Sirius have wanted for years due to a drunk, jealous slip up on Sirius' part.

ship: wolfstar + background jegulus

warnings: nothing major I can think of—alcohol consumption, so much fluff, unresolved sexual and romantic tension, painfully obvious flirting, james regulus and peter are a bunch of little shits, jealousy

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51762532

authors note: SO MUCH FLUFF and remus is second guessing EVERYTHING. obviously inspired by wish you were sober by conan gray :) they’re not together when this starts and remus is feeling very unsure about a lot of things. sirius helps him out with that though ;) somehow from the dining table by harry styles possessed me to write this in half an hour idk why it doesn’t even give the same vibes but ig it feels like a wolfstar song to me soooo —as always this is unedited and i wrote it at 2am so i might read it later and think it's total shit (but currently this is my fave wolfstar fic i've writen) also this was meant to be like 500 words and its almost 2k lmaooo

Remus was a blushing mess. Sirius had insisted on doing Remus’ eyeliner—saying that Remus would just look ‘so hot’ in it—and who was he to refuse? For Sirius, he would do anything. The problem was, he hadn’t exactly pictured agreeing to this resulting in Sirius straddling his hips, leaning extremely close to his face with his tongue poked out due to his level of focus.

“Merlin, Moony, you’ll be the hottest one at the party.” Well, one of us certainly will be, and it’s not me.

Remus was screaming internally, but he mustered a playful smirk and a quick: “am I not already?”

Sirius sent him a grin as he continued to do his makeup, “of course you are, darling. Anyone who disagrees is blind.”

Remus was certainly not blind when it came to noticing the tiny things Sirius was doing, however. The way he pushed his dark curls out of his eyes with one hand and clenched his jaw slightly in concentration with one eyebrow slightly raised? Fucking hell, it drove him insane. Remus wanted so strongly to just grab his face and smash their lips together.

He didn’t do that, obviously.

“Okay, I’m almost done,” Sirius muttered while he did the final touches to the eyeliner. “You ready for everyone at this party to fall madly in love with you?” I only want you to love me.

Remus swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up at Sirius, “as long as you’re one of them.”

Sirius looked a little taken aback for a moment and Remus could’ve sworn he saw him blush, but he was likely just seeing what he wanted to see. At the look on Sirius’ face, Remus mentally cursed himself for speaking his thoughts aloud. Remus’ worry was unnecessary—as it often was—because a broad smile soon took over his features and he pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek. “You can count on that.”

Even after he had pulled away, Remus could feel the ghost of his lips where they had been on his cheek, and he refused to look at Sirius because he knew he was a blushing mess.

“Moony?”

This broke Remus out of his thoughts, and he looked up with wide eyes. “Yeah?”

Sirius smirked in amusement at Remus’ absentmindedness and the fluffy-haired boy could only hope that he was unaware that he was the cause of it all. “Could you go check if James is ready? I need to fix my outfit.”

Remus scoffed softly, “Pads, I hardly think your outfit needs fixing.” Sirius was wearing a white cropped tank top—Moony loved it because showed off his tattoos and biceps— with an array of necklaces draped around his neck. He had on his favourite baggy jeans (the ones with stars on them that Remus had helped him make) and a black belt adorning his waist, and the look was finished off with a pair of Dr. Martens.

Sirius winked at him, “well, you know me. I have to look perfect for you, my love.”

The last two words almost resulted in Sirius being pushed up against the wall, so Remus opted for a short: “You always look perfect to me, darling,” before he exited the room as fast as he possibly could.

He found James downstairs in their common room, lying on the couch with Regulus curled up at his side. James was stroking Regulus’ hair and whispering sweet nothings into his ears, and Remus smiled at the two as he flopped down on the seat opposite them. James looked up and surveyed his flushed cheeks, he then asked casually, “so, have you two made out yet?”

Remus threw the nearest book (which happened to be Lily’s current reread, Pride and Prejudice) at him before glancing across at Lily, who was sat across the common room watching the exchange with a grin. “Sorry, Lily. it was for a good cause.”

“No, no. I’m curious too. Are the two of you,” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully, “getting any action?”

Remus glared at his friend, “shut up. And for your information, no.”

Regulus cooed at him from where he sat with James, “oh, poor Remus. So much flirting, so little of anything else—including your transfiguration notes, by the way. I wanted to borrow someone’s notes for the class I missed, so I asked James, who obviously redirected me to your extensive pile of notes on your desk. That desk is very disorganised, by the way. But alas, no notes. Never thought you were the type to forget to take notes. Spending too much time yearning over my brother in that class, Lupin?”

Remus looked away in embarrassment, “don’t rely on someone else’s notes next time, Reggie.”

“Don’t spend hours on end staring at my brother and I wouldn’t have to call you out for not having your notes.”

Groaning, Remus stood up, “okay, I’m going to get a sweater. See you guys soon!” he began to walk up the stairs but he was stopped when he walked into Sirius walking down. He had redone his hair and put it half into a low bun, and he had gained several rings and had a leather jacket in his hands.

He grinned at Remus, “ready to go?”

“Oh, I need-”

His favourite woollen jumper was shoved into his arms and he blinked slowly as Sirius spoke. “I thought you might want it.”

Remus shifted his weight from side to side as he looked down at the sweater in his hands and he was overcome with an overwhelming sense of adoration for the boy standing in front of him.

He didn’t realise how long he had been staring down at it until Sirius ruffled his hair softly.

“Hey, you okay? You zoned out.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine, thanks for getting this. We can go down now, if you want?”

Sirius nodded, taking Remus’ hand and tugging him gently down the stairs. Remus felt his heart beating faster than he deemed normal, but he couldn’t remember anything about human biology at that moment due to his mind racing at a million miles per minute. As the two walked into the common room, he met eyes with Lily and sent her an alarmed expression, to which she smirked at. She tapped Mary’s shoulder and pointed at Sirius and Remus’ entwined hands. Mary grinned and gave a silent cheer directed to Remus.

There were already more people in the common room, a variation of people Remus recognised and people he didn’t (admittedly more of the later group). Sirius led Remus towards James, Regulus, and Peter, who were now sitting upright on the couch. Remus sat next to Regulus and the boy smirked at him.

“You’re a mess, Lupin.”

Peter walked around the back of the couch to whisper in Remus’ ear, “I say just kiss and be done with it. This flirting is sickening.” Remus gently slapped Peter’s shoulder with the hand that wasn’t still clasped in Sirius’ ring-clad one and the other boy lightly gasped. “Well, they do say love makes people crazy.”

Remus groaned loudly at Peter’s words, and Sirius turned to him. “You okay?”

“No, he’s in-” Remus pressed his free hand over Peter’s mouth with a warning expression directed at the shorter boy.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiled at Sirius, who looked unconvinced and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Remus almost melted right then and there, and Peter snickered at the interaction.

James stood up abruptly, “alright, who wants some firewhisky?”

Sirius cheered, standing up to follow James and pulling Remus to his feet by the hand he didn’t quite want to let go of just yet.

Ten minutes later, Remus was leaning against the wall with a half full glass of firewhisky and a small smile on his face as he watched Sirius participating in some stupid dare. The long-haired boy kept sending little glances over at Remus to see if he was watching and letting his teasing gaze linger when they made eye contact. Somehow, Sirius had convinced Regulus to participate in the game, and the two brothers had light, carefree smiles on their faces.

Remus felt another presence next to him and looked over to see James, watching the Black brothers with a yearning look on his face similar to the one that was probably adorning Remus’ face. Smiling at Remus,

James muttered, “oh, our stars are so pretty.”

Remus nodded in agreement, “so pretty.”

The two stood there with adoring expressions painting their features for another ten minutes minutes before Remus felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, warm breath alarmingly close to his ear. He was overcome with an immense feeling of discomfort.

A sultry feminine voice whispered, “well, aren’t you a handsome specimen, what if I-”

The voice didn’t even get a chance to finish before Remus felt a well-known hand grab his own. “What if you piss off and take your wandering hands out of my boyfriend’s personal space?”

Remus did a double take.

His eyes widened slightly and he glanced at where James had been with a confused expression, only to find that his friend had disappeared. When he finally mustered the courage to look at Sirius, he was surprised to find him with a deep blush covering his cheeks. They met eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I didn’t know how else to get her away from you—and you were so uncomfortable, I couldn’t just stand there and watch. Plus, I didn’t want her touching you– I’m sorry, I’m rambling, fuck.”

Remus had the best idea he had had all night long. “Who said it was something to be sorry for?”

Sirius froze. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Sirius looked into Remus’ eyes for a few moments before grabbing his face and smashing their lips together. It was a messy kiss, all teeth clashing and hands grabbing at hair.

Remus pulled away suddenly, “how drunk are you, exactly?”

“Not drunk enough to be making this up, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“Sober enough to remember it in the morning?”

“Well, if I don’t, we can always recreate it.” Sirius winked playfully and squeezed Remus’ hand.

“Hmm, can’t say I’d be opposed to that, darling…” Remus trailed off slowly as he pushed Sirius against the wall, bringing their lips together in another kiss. This kiss was slow, sweet, and a stark contrast to their first kiss. Remus had one hand resting on Sirius’ cheek and another tangled in his curls, and Sirius’ had his arms draped over Remus’ shoulders.

Remus’ eyes suddenly caught the metal glint of a necklace hanging around Sirius’ neck, and he raised an eyebrow as he pulled slightly away from the kiss. “Is that mine?”

Sirius scoffed, “you never wore it, anyway. It was wasted on you.” Remus smiled softly and wasted no time in bringing their lips together once again.

[mushrubes]

Braiding

Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Charles Smith by @/addynot}

Pairing : Charles Smith x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type :  fluff

Word count : 920

Warnings : friends to lovers, mutual pinning, slightly ooc <3

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–

Contently, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed as your hands weaved the long hair upon his head. “What flowers are you going to use this time?” He asked casually, unfazed as you braided his dark locks. This was routine. Every morning, you’d braid his hair — sometimes using flowers as decor. He never minded, even if some of the gang members picked on him for it. "Lily of the valleys. Found a bunch earlier." You informed as you carefully threaded the flowers into his plait. “They’re lovely,” he murmured, glancing down at the flowers you were so carefully weaving into his braid. “You always take great care to make sure my hair looks its best. I should count myself lucky,” Charles said softly as he ran his fingers through his hair, ensuring it didn’t look too messed up.

"Only the best for my Charles." you grinned at your best friend. He gave you a small grin in return, and then suddenly wrapped you in a tight bear hug, resting his head against the top of yours. Without thinking, he pressed his lips quickly against your forehead. "Are you joining the others on their robbery later?" you asked, gently swaying as your arms wrapped around him. "I'm not sure," Charles murmured, still pressed against you as if he was trying to make as much contact as possible with you. "Would that be okay with you?" He asked, not yet making any attempt to pull away from you. "If you want to go, go. I don't control what you do, Char." I commented, squeezing his arm gently.

"Oh, no. I know, I just thought… Well… That you might miss me," Charles murmured quietly. He didn't want to come across as overbearing or clingy, but he secretly hoped that you would tell him not to go. "Of course I'll miss you. I always miss you when we're not together, love. If I had it my way, you wouldn't be going. But I know how you like your missions, and I don't wanna be selfish, y'know?" You gently caressed his cheek. "I… No, you're not being selfish at all. You're just concerned about me," Charles said, placing his hand atop yours. He had his reservations about going, especially since the last few missions had been disastrous, but he wanted to ensure you wouldn't feel abandoned by his absence. "I just… I don't want anything to go wrong. And I… I don't want anything to happen to you," Charles admitted. It felt embarrassing to say these things aloud, but it was how he actually felt. "I'll be in camp while you're gone, I'll be safe. You however, mister.." You trailed off, frowning slightly at the thought of something happening.

"It's what I do. It's why Dutch recruited me for the gang," Charles murmured softly. "And I promise I'll make it back to you." He pressed his lips against the top of your forehead again, as if he was trying to imprint his love for you into a single kiss. "I'll come back, I swear, love." he assured, his hand running up and down your back comfortingly. "…are you sure you want to go?" you asked quietly, mumbling into his chest. "Of course I don't want to go," Charles whispered, leaning down so his head was right at your ear. He had no desire to leave your side, especially after you'd been so affectionate to him this morning. "But… I have a responsibility to the others in the camp." To ensure you knew just how much he cared about you, he leaned down once more and brushed his lips against your ear. "I know, I know." You muttered, pouting slightly. "I just…I don't know. I wish we could just do nothing all day together, y'know?" I finished, looking up.

"Believe me," Charles murmured, pulling you up so that your faces were level with each other. "That would be wonderful," he whispered. "But I have a responsibility to the others within the gang. I can't sit around with you all day." He gently touched your face. "But once I return from the robbery, I will come to you the first thing I can. You are worth all the time in the world, my darling." he comforted, nodding. "Promise me you'll be careful?" you asked, eyes full of concern. "I promise you with all my heart, I will be careful," Charles murmured quietly, holding you tight in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe, and to return to you with no injuries or hardships. He was willing to take the necessary precautions to ensure he did everything he could. With this said, he pressed a sweet, tender kiss against your cheek, hoping that it would be enough to reassure you of his safety.

You pulled him down into a kiss before he could leave, arms around his neck. "Stay safe. I love you, best friend." You responded teasingly, a soft giggle leaving my lips as I pecked his lips again. Charles smiled, looking down at your soft, red lips as a wave of butterflies danced about inside his chest. "I love you more than words could describe," he murmured quietly against your lips, placing his hand tenderly atop your head. "Behave yourself while I'm gone, and… Don't you dare flirt with anyone else." He warned cheekily as he pulled away from the kiss, his own lips left soft and sensitive from the tender lips you had planted upon him.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[difeisheng]

Hey y'all. So, I love MLC fandom for a multitude of reasons, and one of them is seeing people come to pick up some of the same headcanons and potential story threads that I think about aloud here. It's amazing that occasionally discussions about these characters on this blog have inspired people to write or draw things of their own, spinning off from something else. Transformative exchange of ideas is part of what makes fandom fun for me. However, there's something I want to bring up for the present and future.

I consider this blog at its core to be a personal one. It's a place where I get to mess around and write down whatever rambling that comes to me. Given that I'm a fic writer, oftentimes I write down character thoughts as a kind of hold or saving for later, because I intend on expanding on them in some manner of fic. I am aware that this blog and my thoughts are public, and just to reiterate, I like sharing these thoughts! Seeing people take a piece of one post or idea I had and giving it their own twist, or as a springboard for a different fic concept, is great. But the emphasis on this is that it is transformative, and in some way separate from my original intention.

As a writer who does cherish their ideas, it is jarring to have someone show up out-of-the-blue in the replies of a concept post saying "I used this idea in my fic, as said in the tags of my last reblog". It feels worse to click on the aforementioned fic and see that specific details of that concept have been used without alteration. Credit is given in the author's note, but it is, frankly, ungraceful at best to phrase such a statement as "I stole [X] from this post on Tumblr. I did announce in the tags that I'd use it."

I am not mutuals with this person, and I do not read their fic. Declaring intent to (in their own words) steal an idea in the tags of a post does not constitute received communication, as I don't check the reblogs on every post, and Tumblr eats notifications half the time anyway. The wording of this statement tells me that A. this person is aware they crossed a line by directly lifting an idea from someone else without concrete prior interaction, and B. they do not particularly care.

I reached out to see if there was perhaps a misunderstanding that could be fixed, or a way to reword their credit. I would not force someone to change their actual writing after the fact, and MLC is a small, cozy fandom. I don't want to have conflict in a space I consider a safe haven among C-drama fandoms. However, the response was not constructive. I now have this person blocked.

So, in the future: if there's a story concept I've had that you would like to run with, and particularly if you want to draw on specifics from it, would you mind briefly checking in with me first? It can be a post reply, or a DM, or an ask. A good chunk of the time, I'll be okay! I just ask for decent credit and communication, and there are only some things I want to save for my own writing beforehand. They do exist, though, and I would rather not have them copied verbatim without my knowing.

The main principle here is not about arguing on what idea was originated by which person, but about extending a basic measure of etiquette and respect to other people who share this fandom space with you.

I wish this didn't happen. I do not want it to happen again. I like it here, I treasure this fandom and the friends I've made in it. So going forward, I request that you please don't do this.

[paranormalsaga]

Nebulous (Chapter Two)

Nagode was off to an early start in the morning, so early he turned off his alarm before it was set to ring. Cleaning up his bedroom took much longer than he’d expected, but three hours later he had things mostly in order. At least as much as they could be. Last night had left his gaming console in ruins, along with his monitor. Thankfully, his laptop survived unscathed. He cooked oatmeal for breakfast, then used his employee discount to order a new bed frame and monitor from Atlas, they would arrive in twelve hours. Though he knew Allmart had an “All Time Low” deal going on that made it cheaper to get the gaming console from them.

This is why you’re broke, he thought to himself. 

Unfortunately, he needed to pick up the console in person. He took the train and basked in the warmth of a summer morning in Neptune City. With no money to pay for an autonomous taxi, he had to walk the rest of the way to the store from a train stop. The streets were filled with pedestrians. Their expressions looked harsher, meaner. He couldn’t shake his social anxiety as he walked among them. It had always been bad, but today it felt as if last night’s events had exacerbated things. Something was different.

He walked into the gigantic, crowded store as stoically as possible and headed straight for the electronics department. A clerk would need to unlock the console from its glass case.

“Excuse me,” Nagode said to a clerk with their back turned to him. The employee appeared to be a young, balding man in his late twenties.

“Fuck off,” a man’s voice said.

Nagode looked around, bewildered. Where had that voice come from? He’d heard it as clearly as he would have if the person who spoke were standing right beside him.

“How can I help you sir?” The clerk asked as he turned around from what he’d been doing. It was the same voice, only now it matched the man’s distance.

Nagode took a second to collect himself, too confused to speak.

“I need you to unlock an item for me,” he said after an awkward silence. He guided the clerk to the console and waited for him to unlock it. Then they walked over to the cash register. While the clerk was ringing up the item, Nagode heard the same ominous voice from a few moments earlier.

“Is this guy dumb or something? Why does he look like that?” The clerk thought, and Nagode could hear it. He heard his voice even though his lips weren’t moving.

“You can pay now,” the clerk said aloud.

He tapped his phone for the mobile payment. As the clerk handed him his bag and receipt, Nagode became curious. He wondered…

“I can hear you.”

“What the fuck?” The clerk exclaimed as he jumped back in alarm, bumping into an open drawer. “How did you just do that?”

Nagode ignored him, he was already on his way out of the store, he’d learned what he needed to know.

…

“I’m serious dude, this isn’t bullshit.”

Josh took a hit from his bong.

“So you’re like a Jedi or something?”

Nagode put his head in his hands.

“I’m serious,” he repeated. “Ever since last night, things have been weird. Remember when you came up to check on me? You know I’m not lying.”

“I know you think you’re not lying,” Josh said as he put down the bong. “But what I heard last night doesn’t prove anything.”

Nagode realized what he needed to do.

“If you want me to believe you, use your ‘powers’ on me,” Josh said, making air quotes.

The truth was, Nagode had been using his powers on Josh from the moment he first arrived back at the apartment. He used them to learn that Josh was a lot more stressed about his grad program than he let on and that he was planning to have sex with their mutual friend, Emma, later tonight. However, as soon as Nagode told Josh about this power, it was like the voice just switched off. Nagode couldn’t hear any of Josh’s thoughts anymore.

“You’re gonna clap Emma tonight.” 

“It doesn’t take a mindreader to know that much,” Josh said with a cocky grin. 

Nagode rolled his eyes. He considered bringing up grad school for a second but then decided against it. He would need to communicate his thoughts to Josh to prove it instead.

“Don’t,” a voice bellowed inside Nagode’s mind, making him jump. He recognized that it belonged to the dark figure from last night.

“Dude, are you okay?” Josh asked.

Nagode looked around himself frantically, and a concerned expression grew on Josh’s face.

“Look, I think it might be time to seriously consider quitting your Atlas gig,” Josh began. “I know you need the money, and earning it that way sounds nice in theory, but your schedule is insane. Why do you think they use it in prisons? Why do you think protestors are fighting so hard to abolish it?”

“This isn’t about that,” Nagode said.

“Isn’t it? You say you’re hearing voices. Couldn’t it be possible that the implant is having damaging effects on you? You know, psychologically. I don’t trust that shit. I think you should quit.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I’m not crazy, I’m not hearing voices… Okay, well I am hearing voices, but that doesn’t make me crazy. There’s something strange going on here.”

“Look bro, I’ll be here for you when you get a grip, but I’m not indulging this.” Josh picked up his house keys. “I’m gonna go do some errands, try to feel better, okay?”

“Is ‘some errands’ Emma?”

“‘Some errands’ is Emma,” Josh responded without missing a beat. They both laughed. 

…

It was hardly late by the time Nagode decided to go to bed, but he was too tired to care.

Then it happened again. As soon as he fell asleep, he was staring at his body as if he were a third-party observer, but everything in his room stood still this time. Even the hands on his clock were immobile.

The dark figure from the night before had returned. They raised their hand and ripped open the fabric of space itself. Nagode had trouble comprehending what exactly he was seeing. A large hole stood in his room where nothing but emptiness had been a moment before. There was endless blackness on the other side of it. The figure pulled him into the hole without even touching him.

When he passed through the other side of the portal, he noticed a cluster of black rocks floating beneath his feet. It was the only thing in the endless vacuum of space spread out in all directions. The figure hovered several feet away from him, cross-legged.

“Who are you?” Nagode asked.

“I am Annihilation,” the figure responded. It was the longest sentence they’d spoken thus far. “But you already know who I am. You’ve felt my presence all your life.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Why am I hearing all of these voices in my head? Where am I right now? What am I right now? Why did you bust my monitor-”

Annihilation raised their hand with enough authority that this compelled him to stop talking. Now that Nagode was getting a closer look at them, he could distinguish their features much more clearly. They wore simple white robes. He still couldn’t discern whether they were a man or a woman. Their bald head, tall stature, and broad shoulders hinted at masculinity, but their voice and beauty were so ethereal that he felt both possibilities were equally plausible. Their liquid black complexion and glowing eyes were so inhuman that it was too difficult to identify them with anything he’d ever seen.

“You are in the Psychic Realm, a dimension that exists beyond the boundaries of time and space. This is your home, our home, and now you’re ready to reclaim it,” they began as Nagode drew closer, stopping a few feet in front of them.

“You’ve already projected your psychic form into this dimension a few times before while you slept, but your mind was too weak back then.

"The voices you hear are not voices at all, but the psychic expressions of others. Every individual produces psychic expressions through mental events, even lower life forms, to some extent. However, human psychic expressions are infinitely more powerful due to their unique abilities. The concept of self and abstract thought distinguish human sentience from all others. Humanity’s communication of ideas is one of the most powerful forms of psychic expression in the cosmos. You are endowed with the gift of reading those psychic expressions. 

“And that is not your only gift. I did not move any objects last night. You did. You possess the power to bring true peace to the universe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You understand what must be done, that we must relieve the universe from the burden of our existence, and you have the means to do it. I know you want to die painlessly, thinking about your loved ones, memories, and dreams. I know you want to be done with all of this. I know you because I am you. We are psychically connected. We are Annihilation.”

“Why me? Why do I have these powers?”

They paused, staring at him. He suddenly realized how faint he felt. 

“Your mind cannot handle much more of this, you must return to your world.”

Another portal leading back to Nagode’s bedroom appeared to their right. Before he could say anything else, his psychic form was pulled through it and back into his body. He woke up covered in sweat. When he checked the time on his phone, he did a double-take. It was the same time it had been when Annihilation arrived.

…

“Got him.” Gadget said.

Battalion perked up. 

“I spotted a mild flare-up near Ujamaatown earlier in the day, nothing too unusual, but then an hour ago there was another massive spike back in the same location as last night. Only this time I pinpointed where it was specifically coming from. Lord Properties, fifth floor, room 509,” Gadget said.

They were back in the research center, looking at live footage of the apartment building projected on one of Gadget’s screens. 

“I accessed their records and identified the residents. Two roommates: Joshua Igwe and Nagode Tyjani, but I’ve confirmed that the source is Nagode. My drones recorded Joshua exiting the apartment building a little after 9 p.m., but the most recent psychic spike didn’t occur until an hour later when Nagode was the only person in the room.”

Battalion grinned as he looked at Nagode’s file displayed on another one of Gadget’s monitors. They had finally located another Paranormal Entity. Battalion knew that handling this would impress the Director.

Fifteen minutes later, Battalion stood in twelve locations surrounding Lord Properties, primed for a fight. One of those locations was outside a building next to the apartment complex. He looked up at it, then turned to Masquerade standing beside him. She was dressed in a dark stealth suit and armed to the teeth. Her eyes, entirely black, stared straight at him even though he knew she was blind.

She cocked her head slightly to the side.

“He’s awake, but he’s not doing much,” she reported. “He doesn’t know we’re here.”

“Okay, follow me in and stay hidden in case he tries anything.”

Masquerade nodded, and then she turned invisible.

They made their way toward Nagode’s apartment.

[alelathedragon]

Word Girl AU: I almost killed her...

Part 4!!!!

He didn't sleep all night and he for once… Went outside to spend his weekend away from his robots, as much as he didn't enjoy it or nature… He couldn't face his own machines right now no matter how hard he tried. It made his head hurt with too many questions that he didn't know how to answer… He ended up at the park he and Word Girl went to many weeks ago. Sighing aloud, he went to the swings to sit down and drift lightly as his head tilt to the sky and watched the clouds.

His head was full of questions and problems… But something stuck out to him even while he was trying to avoid answering them. Am I still going to make robots? He kicked the ground, swinging some as his head drifted down slowly to where his eyes were level with the city in the distance once again.

….. It was a mistake… But it almost killed someone… He never… Actually tried to kill someone, as he never wanted to! He threatened people yes, but Word Girl was there to rescue them, so he never saw them as in 'Real Danger' … But now he put someone, someone he ADMIRES!!! In real danger… The solution seemed so simple: just don't use Lexonite anymore. Yet he still felt so guilty for hurting her and feeling Proud about his plan in the past.. He felt disgusting… But didn't simply want to give up what he loves, building robots is his passion, even if they aren't acknowledged right.

He sighed and got off the swing only to be greeted with eyes on him, big curious eyes of adults and other kids his age or younger. He didn't notice as he was too busy spacing off, everyone was looking at him like they expected something. He sweat a little before simply meaning to walk away, however he ran into a much younger kid. They stared at each other for a little bit .

" You saved Word Girl from the evil Mr. Big. "

He flinched. It was so odd to hear… Saved- like he's some hero. " Yes… I did… "

The child suddenly hugged him and he cringed. " Thanks you… She my hero! "

He wanted to push them off and shout for their parents to come reclaim them, but instead he found himself simply patting them on the head. " Cool.. please let go now. "

The kid did before running back off to his parents. Tobey whipped his head to the bystanders. " STOP- staring at me, it's creepy!! "

" We just didn't expect a bad guy to protect a hero! You were pretty cool out there THAT time haha! "

He flinched again as people around agreed in a mutual understanding before going back to minding their own business… Thank goodness, he didn't think he could handle another positive comment like that… 'Hero'…. ghhh…. He saved her- Once!….. Okay maybe he's helped her a few times, but that was only because they had the same goal!! It meant nothing, he's not GOOD- and even if he was this… This city would still run him over..just like before. Power keeps their attention. Threats make them actually listen. Being Bad won't make him disappear!

Ghhh! He stopped to hold his head, another headache… every time he thinks about it a throbbing headache begins.. it was too much… He's never been so conflicted in his life…. Maybe he should just go home… This didn't seem to be helping, he thought as he turned around to make the trek back home. Passing by the people again as they minded their own business this time, he exited the park reaching up to adjust his glasses some after rubbing the bridge of his nose. Waiting for his opportunity to cross the street before safely making it to the other side. As he walked through the city, his attention was just on getting home and trying to ignore anyone that questioned him about his actions, but the more he heard about that day the more his confusion shifted into anger. By time he got home the boy was absolutely furious with everything, stomping up to his room and disappearing inside his secret back room to work on robots.

The one thing he enjoyed… And the one thing he knew he could rely on… ROBOTS DESTROYING!!! He tinkered away in his lab for what felt like hours until he could ride his trusty steed out into the city once more and start crushing things. However, Tobey was making the unconscious act of avoiding people… He saw himself checking cars once or twice before crushing them, however it didn't click in his brain as to why, he only really noticed something was wrong as he heard his robots falling over… And there was no button to fight Word Girl. He paused, shaking his head before observing the controller in his hands. Even when he didn't mean to do harm, Word Girl was a type of rival! She could handle being volleyed between Robots and has been many times when he manages to outsmart her.

This time… Tobey simply didn't put any weapons on his robots. Zero. Not one self defense punch to fend off the hero. He whimpered, " What what whaaat??? Come ON!!! Fight back! Do as I say! Robots attack!! Do it!! "

The robots just looked at each other, then back at Tobey. One robot lifted up its arm to pathetically swing at Word Girl, which she easily dodged to pummel the robot that dared move. Tobey grumbled and kicked the robot he was standing on, on its neck only to regret it immediately. Falling over to roll into a ball, hugging his leg and whimpering as he tried to hold back tears from his idiot action. Why didn't he put weapons on them!? Why aren't they programmed to fight back!!! What's the point in some…. Well… The point is that it's fun… But he can't rival Word Girl if he holds back like this! WHY DID HE HOLD BA-….. He froze for a minute as he looked up to see Word Girl in front of him with a look of disappointment on her, or was she upset? He couldn't tell.. but looking into her eyes, it hit him.

I can't bare to even chance hurting her again… I must have made the robots less dangerous because…. I don't want to hurt anyone…. And that incident…. I could have hurt somebody this whole time… I just assumed they wouldn't be since Word Girl is here… Even though I claim to not be on their level, I really was just as bad…. As those villains who would hurt for their own gain… How could he have been so blind… So… Stupid!! Tobey you fool!! … He liked the lasers, weapons and other things he put onto his robots, but now he simply… Wouldn't be able to??

Word Girl came over and picked him up like usual when she apprehends him, placing him down on the street before obliterating the robot he was standing on, then landing in front of him. " Guess I was hoping for too much when I thought you weren't going to terrorize the city anymore… Though I am surprised, Tobey, that it was SOOOO easy… Usually you go a lot more heavy handed on the weapons, techniques, the evil plotting… This is like… Day 5… Of fighting you all over again. Too predictable! "

Tobey looked away without turning his head as his arms folded behind his back. He felt conflicted again, but this time neither angry nor headache inducing. " It was for fun. "

Word Girl seemed baffled, tilting her head some before she got a more angry look on her face. " You were terrorizing the city… For fun… Rather than??? "

"I wouldn't say 'terrorizing', I was.. going on a little destructive stroll. You did see, didn't you Word Girl? I didn't threaten anybody. "

WG: " You were probably going to when I got here.. GASP!! IT WAS A TRAP!! Where is it!?! " Capt. Huggyface got into a fighting stance as Tobey simply shook his head slowly.

" I wasn't…. There… Is none. No trap, no evil plan to make you mine, no revenge on the neighborhood kid that pushed over my bike, no board game that's actually real… Oh wait that was with Becky, not you… But it was an evil plot, so I count it. "

Word Girl looked unsure of him. He sighed and raised his hands up in a surrender motion. " Check my pockets if you must, I haven't a single other remote on me… I was letting off steam from something completely unrelated to the city, but taking it out on the local cars because …. It's fun. "

He shut his eyes as Word Girl did in fact check his body for anything else before backing off again. His arms naturally went down and folded behind his back as his eyes half opened to look at the super hero again… He didn't feel entirely fulfilled of letting off steam… However that was how the cookie crumbled, he supposed. Word Girl rubbed the bridge of her nose before walking forward some.

" Why don't you make robots… To help me? You'd be able to build to your heart's content as they would likely be destroyed eventually by my opponents… You'd get to put your weapons on them… If you don't plan on using them anymore, I don't know… Why don't you try entering the Robot Fighting ring again but dial it down by A Million so you won't get disqualified? … Again.. I'll even go with you to get you un-banned from the last time you went, Tobey. There are better ways to let off steam than annoying me by wrecking things. "

Tobey shook his head immediately. " That's not me. I build to my hearts content, to 1 million percent! It's the other person's fault if they can't build a ray that disintegrates the competition into their robits. The point is to WIN! I built the best robit, therefore I should win, but noooo I get disqualified!! It's ridiculous!! And as for HELPING- h e l p i ng … Ugh! Word Girl… I might have come to a …. A…. Mmm…. Help me out here? "

Word Girl put her hand up to her chin and thought for a moment on what word he could be wanting to use right now, as to her it wasn't obvious what he was trying to say… She ended up shrugging. " Try your best. I don't understand the context of your sentence, so I can't give you the correct word without going through all the words that could go in that particular spot. "

He squinted at her and rubbed the bridge of his nose again before thinking….. he didn't know the word… So he should try: " Well… before our last fight I didn't really think about IF someone could get hurt. I knew you were there. Nothing bad would actually happen. But after our fight… I guess I've really been thinking about it, and how honestly…. I could have hurt someone this whole time. "

" Ohhhhh. So you've come to a realization… Wait how did you not real- "

" YES! Realization, thank you! .. ahem… I may have come to a realization Word Girl, but that doesn't mean I have any intentions to just completely switch sides!! Destruction is not only fun but it really makes me feel… Good. "

WG: " But what about all the people you're making feel bad? Cars are expensive you know!!?? "

Tobey shrugged. " The price went way down since the city got infested with villains, not like we don't see a bunch of brand new cars every single day after an attack. I can deal with hurting feelings a little. "

WG: " RRRRRRRRR!!! What about the one time you crashed a party and couldn't crush the cake!?! Huh!?! Come ON Tobey think about it for more than two seconds! "

" That was different! It was her birthday and that cake meant a lot to her! Who's attached to their bloody cars??? "

WG: " A LOT OF PEOPLE!!! Cars can be gifts to teenagers that just got their permit to drive, cars can have value to someone that nobody else sees, there's an event in the city where people who love cars come around and talk about their cars! I had to go! IT WAS BORING!!! "

He fiddled his fingers some and looked down lightly. " Oh… I see… " What else could he beat up senseless then??? Have his own robots fight?? ….Nooo… He already tried that and that causes just as much destruction and he always knows the outcome, so it's not even satisfying to watch. He didn't understand how that was different than when he crushed cars just to be foiled but… It just was to him for some reason. He shook his head.

" Wait… Why should I care?? If tomorrow a different villian will come and destroy the car? I know that I am the most popular subject to get rid of cars but I know I'm not the only one either. I spare a car today for it to be obliterated tomorrow. I don't see the point in protecting such a mundane item. "

WG: " You could say that for the cake! You spared the cake but a different villain could come later to smash it to bits, making your time sparing it null and void. "

" Again with the stupid cake it was ONE TIME! A birthday is not the same as a c a r . "

WG: " To some people it is!! "

" AND WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO!!!!? " his arms moved as he spoke, words fell out of his mouth without even thinking, " Be a good little boy that won't be acknowledged by anyone!?? Oh Tobey, cute little robit. You get Third place and we won't endorse you! Oh Tobey, please help me by lending me a robit for life and then I'll never speak to you again! You don't even remember what I was like before I became bad DO YOU?? "

He pointed at Word Girl who sweat and raised her hands in a defensive manner as she looked up. " He used to be good? "

Narrator: " Kinda. He always had that little kick in him for destroying things, however back before his current grade Tobey was an…okay kid at best… Not GOOD, but not destroying the city either, just his room. He had to be first or would throw a fit because of his little superiority complex he's got there, heheheh so cute. "

Tobey grumbled something at the back of his throat.

Narrator: " All things aside… He did try making his robots for Good when he first started, but nobody paid him the attention he thought he deserved. "

" I DO DESERVE IT!!! I DO!! I work so hard on my robits and what takes my place!?!? " He waved his hand at the sky motioning the Narrator to speak, there was a sound of paper tapping against a desk.

Narrator: " Ahhh lets see here…. Science Fair, you lost to a can opener that doubled as a bottle opener. Science Fair the previous year, you lost to a soda volcano. The Super Battle Bot Royale Extreme before the time you got disqualified, you made a robot that fit all the rules but still lost because your robot and the other person came to a tie and it was up to the audience which bot should move on and nobody picked youuu…. Let's see… "

" The time I tried to get Word Girl's attention…. "

WG looked back to him: " Huh?? "

Narrator: " Lemme see here…. Bu bu bu bu… Ahah! The week before he turned to destruction as his answer to life as well, Tobey built a robot to help you fight crime. His methods were a little extreme, but he meant well, and when he was trying to get your attention you were too busy with Dr. Two-brains to acknowledge him… Then… Bu bu bu bu buuuuu…. Ohhhh…. Yikes… "

WG: " What?? What did I do? "

Narrator: " Tobey managed to get your attention, but to be fair you were really tired from the long day, so honestly Tobey should have tried again the next day… But ahem: Tobey showed you his robot and you thought it was a threat because of its extreme measures, plus naturally robots weren't such a big thing back then and all. It was an honest mistake but… You punted it into space, said 'you're safe now citizen, have a nice day' then flew away. "

Word Girl's eyes grew large as the realization hit her. " NOOOOO! OH MY GOSH!!! I'M - I'm so sorry Tobey!! I didn't know, look it was an accident… I was so tired… I don't even remember what I was thinking back then cause it was too long ago… Thanks for the visual though Narrator. "

Narrator: " Just doing my job. "

WG: " Tobey, it was a long day and I was exhausted… Why didn't you.. just … make another one??? "

Tobey grit his teeth as his fingers shut into a fist. " I put my soul… Into that robit just to watch it get flung into space! … It was like my entire life of efforts crashed onto my shoulders in a second… I went home and started throwing things across my room in a fit of rage …. And the idea hit me… I always destroyed things upon being mad… What if I made my robits destroy things instead?? I built my first army and attacked the city! And oh let me tell you!! Nothing had felt THAT good 'til then!! Stepping on other people's hard work!! YOU have your efforts SMASHED!! MUH HUHUHUHUH!!! And then I did more! Realizing you would come to save the city, I crushed as many cars as I could before I knew I would be stopped!!! And that's when I heard it..and my heart skipped a beat~ You said my name! I WAS RECOGNIZED!!! I finally felt… Good again… Of course it wasn't enough hahaha~ but… I never intended to harm anyone…. I only wanted your attention, which turned into a rivalry! On top of crushing things daily my life was practically complete! "

He felt a little smile cross his face as his body felt… Relaxed.. he blinked a few times looking between Word Girl and the sky above him where they always looked to speak to the Narrator. "…..Did I just speak my feelings? "

WG: " ….Yeah… I guess so?? "

Tobey suddenly became flabbergasted. " Wh--??? HOW??? HOW'D I DO IT!?!?! HOW DO I DO IT AGAIN!?!?! "

WG sweat: " UHHHHHHH - I don't know… Why do.. you have to destroy to feel good?? "

" I DON'T KNOW!!! I just do! I like the feeling of something so worthless compared to me getting stomped! I always did even before I started getting all mad at everyone… DID I DO IT AGAIN???? " He jumped a bit in place as Word Girl kinda stuttered,

" UHHHH I- I don't… Know???? You didn't get it across to me that well???? I don't get it. "

His excitement sunk a bit. " Oh. " He was hoping he could say more of his feelings, particularly the ones that involved Word Girl but the steam was gone and everything he had to say in that moment was out.. GRRRRRRRRUHHHH!! WHYYYYYYYY!?!?!!!? He was frustrated…. But also not at the same time.

" Well… I don't know how else to say it, I think destruction is fun and always have. Does there need to be a reason? "

Word Girl shrugged: " I… Guess not? …but… Why not…try again Tobey?? I can help you so that your robots won't be ignored, you can destroy.. helpful things! Litter, Dr. Two-Brains' machines, pollution in the water, beat up crime in all kinds of ways! I know you had a bad experience but you have my attention now.. and I promise you won't lose it by changing which side the robots fight on. Things can change… Please? " She offered her hand to him for him to grab… He looked at it with an unimpressed look… Sighing,

" ….It's not an easy answer… Word Girl… I'll think about it. "

She nodded: " Okay… I can allow that… But will you stop destroying things in the city until then? "

He laughed: " No~ "

Word Girl smacked her lips. " Whelp… I gotta give you back to your mom now then… See you next robot rampage? I guess?? "

He chuckled. " Looking forward to it. " He said before he was whisked back home and promptly grounded once again… His head felt a bit clearer, but was still riddled with questions and now a big decision on his plate… But he had time to think it over.. how he felt and maybe someday… He could express it.

Thanks to @femboi-rayne for proof reading!

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Next: Will come when I feel like it

[keeperofquestions]

Castle Noctua and the Sigils of Minerva (Mobile-Friendly Version)

CASTLE NOCTUA

The old castle Duedephelon apparently calls his home is an ancient crumbling fort that he maintains is the ancestral seat of his branch. His earliest memory is awaking in the sanctum with full knowledge of the building itself, the sigils, and his own name. It contains both ancient and some modern furnishings as if it was at one point inhabited by a group of people who simply up and left. However the stone castle itself has no modern appliances or even a way to power them.

There are no other living souls or even any evidence of there having ever been anyone else; except for conspicuous absences of records and books that should be in places they aren’t. The largest anomaly aside from places that are oddly destroyed is the library, where books are arranged with missing gaps, as if they were intentionally lifted from the shelves, leaving things untouched.

Somehow, the outside buttresses that hold the second floor hanging over the first are untouched, despite the western watchtower collapsing and destroying part of the floor below it.

FLOOR 1

THE SIGILS OF MINERVA

The Sigils of Minerva are, to the best of Phel’s knowledge, a kind of artificial muse that focuses on asking questions for the purpose of gaining information and performing small feats of magic through asking questions. As the artifact’s steward (especially now that he’s seemingly the only member of his family left), Phel can call upon the sigils still protected in his sanctum for minor power.

The pieces of the sigils are drawn to their respective kind of inquiry and someone with a strong burning desire to know something specific may find themselves stumbling into one of the pieces and be able to use its ability so long as they hold it. The shards Phel has and what abilities they give him are also detailed on his character page.

All available information about the Sigils is what Phel has learned or has been revealed in any roleplay. As it stands they draw power from questions and cannot be used to directly harm anyone. The basic nature of any abilities that each sigil or piece of one can grant will follow the general intent of what the question it pertains to seeks to solve. 

Phel keeps the doors to the sanctum where the sigils were held closed at all times. The damage to it has caused it to become extremely unstable and exposure to the remains of it causes problematic psychological effects to anyone inside, barraging their mind with intense questions. Phel, himself is particularly susceptible to this as he is magically linked to the artifact he is tasked with protecting. It is the one way the castle’s sanctum seems to defend itself, using him as a conduit to expel intruders.

OOC Notes: If you want your character to find or have a piece of the sigils, go ahead! The rest of the abilities are intentionally unknown to allow for some creative mutual storytelling. Just like Phel’s shards, the question has to be said aloud. The only major rules of the sigils is that any magic they grant is not directly harmful (this includes mental/emotional harm like mind control.) I only ask that if you do use it, reference this page and tell me what you’ve come up with! 

Since this blog will have no singular canon, it’s possible for overlap and contradictions between verses on what shards are known, what they do, and who has any.

THE QUESTIONS

Who? The Question of Identity

Asking “Who?” with intent to gain insight about someone. Phel suspects this may take the form of finding out if someone is lying, or digging up information they may be hiding, or making it easier to find out about them second hand.

No shards of Who? have been found.

What? The Question of Designation

Asking “What?” with intent to gain information about an object or place. As far as Phel can tell, this might have the ability to also apply properties or something or perform some lesser conjuration- but that’s only his conjecture.

Phel has one shard, allowing him to create small illusions.

When? The Question of Time

Asking “When?” to learn about a specific point in time. Phel isn’t too sure how this works out past the one shard he has but he has discovered limited time travel might be possible with the full sigil.

Phel has two shards, allowing him to very briefly stop time and replay memories if he can recall them.

Where? The Question of Location

Asking “Where?” with intent to learn about or go somewhere. Phel thinks this could allow some to learn about locations before visiting themselves or track the location of something.

Phel has one shard, allowing him a short teleport with a visible tell.

Why? The Question of Purpose

Asking “Why?” with the intent to discover and underlying truth about a situation. Phel hasn’t been able to think of what this could mean and it scares him.

No shards of Why? have been found.

[redjadethewriter]

I Think Aylin Is Neurodivergent In The Thai GL Series "23.5"

I solemnly admit, I’m a Thai GL Junkie.

There’s no hope for reform any time soon or even in the future.

Just the other day, I decided why not, let me watch the series “23.5” and oh my…I was not disappointed. The romantic comedy thawed a little more of my icy heart with its fluffy approach to girl love. The story focuses mostly on Ongsa and Sun, but there are other characters as well that get a bit of tender care as well. Plot: Ongsa’s high school life takes an unexpected turn when she casually tells her adorable and lively classmate, Sun, to have “sweet dreams” using her Instagram name, Earth. However, because of the masculine connotation of the name, Sun mistakenly assumes she’s conversing with a boy. Despite this misunderstanding, Ongsa is determined not to lose the chance to communicate with Sun. She keeps her true identity as Earth a secret and continues messaging with Sun. Apart from Ongsa’s and Sun’s love story, there is another compelling narrative in the series involving Aylin, an alien enthusiast, and Luna, a senior who also runs the Astronomy club. Throughout the series, Luna takes the initiative to befriend Aylin and encourages her to join the club, helping her break out of her shell and become more social. Initially, Aylin was isolated, always having lunch alone on the rooftop and constantly trying to contact aliens. However, thanks to Luna’s efforts, Aylin develops a fondness for her, and their feelings for each other are mutual. Therefore, while Ongsa and Sun have a captivating story, Aylin and Luna’s story in the series is equally compelling.

Firstly, I need to point out something that I don’t think viewers have caught on to yet. Aylin, in my honest opinion, is portrayed as neuro-divergent, specifically on the autistic spectrum, particularly in relation to girls. I don’t believe it was intentional. Perhaps the writers were aiming to portray an awkward girl who is simply obsessed with aliens. However, her obsession with aliens aligns with what we would call a special interest within the diverse spectrum.

Aylin doesn’t refer to people by their names; instead, she simply calls them “humans.” In fact, she doesn’t even consider herself to be human. This self-perception as being separate from society is another indicator that she recognizes her differences from neurotypical individuals. Throughout the show, we witness Aylin being bullied by her peers from day one, solely because of her fascination with aliens. They refer to her as “Alien” rather than using her real name. Aylin’s speech is often monotonous, and she displays minimal emotional reactions. She doesn’t smile frequently, struggles to understand social cues, and tends to blurt out things that neurotypical individuals typically wouldn’t say aloud.

While watching each episode, I completely forgot that Aylin could possibly be Autistic, as there were already other storylines involving Sun and Ongsa. However, now I’m strongly considering that possibility. Aylin resonated with me in so many ways, and when she first appeared on the show, I immediately felt a connection to her character. At the time, I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. It’s clear that Aylin was created to provide exaggerated relief to this romantic comedy, but I felt that her character was more well-developed with a unique persona that made me root for her, especially as she started to grow closer to Luna.

From the beginning, it was evident that Aylin struggled to connect with others, but when she did speak up, her insights were profound. She wanted Ongsa to be honest and more assertive, even though she faced her own difficulties expressing herself to those she liked. She maintained a colder demeanor towards people she wasn’t close to, but as the series progressed, she became warmer towards Luna. This makes it even sadder when I realize how much Luna tries to change Aylin too quickly, urging her to socialize more and pushing her to respond in a way that she deems appropriate for her peers.

Despite their confession of mutual feelings and Luna’s expressed interest in Aylin and their shared interests, it seems that Luna hasn’t fully accepted Aylin and is intent on fixing the aspects she dislikes about her. So, when Aylin removed Luna’s hand from her arm and walked away saying nothing else, it was clear that all the pushing to socialize and change deeply hurt her. I can imagine that Aylin feels like Luna doesn’t truly embrace every aspect of her, and that can be incredibly painful, to not feel accepted.

There were various indicators that led me to believe that she may be autistic, aside from the obvious signs that some people might find unusual but are actually not. One subtle indicator I observed was her ability to quickly learn new things. She grasped astrology rapidly and became quite knowledgeable. However, it’s important to note that not everyone on the autistic or neuro-diverse spectrum possesses this information-absorbing gift. It varies from individual to individual, which is why it’s referred to as a spectrum. No two people are the same, and it’s never a linear experience.

Despite my own lack of certain traits, I am actually quite sociable. However, I do have a tendency to speak my mind, sometimes inappropriately. Nevertheless, as I’ve grown older, I have developed coping mechanisms and created masks and scripts to navigate through life. When interacting with others, I often find myself asking, “Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear or what you need to hear?” This is especially true when someone seeks my opinion or advice on something.

Returning to Aylin, I couldn’t help but notice how overwhelmed she became when Ton exceeded the boundaries of her personal space. He persistently pushed her to respond to his so-called charm. That’s why I felt her reaction of shoving the food plate in his face was completely justified. In fact, I would have done the same, if not worse. Personally, I feel extremely uncomfortable and tense when people invade my personal space without permission. I have a strong aversion to being touched. However, because of my cultural background of being touchy-huggy people, I’ve had to learn to tolerate it. So, I can only imagine how Aylin must have felt.

I thought it was a significant step for Aylin when she agreed to accept a kiss on the cheek from Luna. Her reaction was perfect - she appeared shocked and quickly backed away. However, there was a slight smirk on her face, suggesting that she may have actually enjoyed it. I believe that if they ever have their first actual kiss, especially after Luna’s tendency to be overly involved, it will be a monumental moment for Aylin. Personally, it would be the end of me, as I can only imagine how transformative and significant that step would be for her.

In any case, with that being said, this blog comes to an end. It’s clear that Aylin possesses distinct traits that place her on the autistic spectrum. I am confident that other viewers have already noticed or will soon notice the portrayal of a queer woman character who also represents ASD/Neurodivergent individuals.

[darsynia]

Nearer, My God, to Thee | Stony | Chapter 3

STORY MASTERLIST | TONY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Written for @zaramel as a part of @tonysbirthdaygala

Summary: Steve Rogers appreciated his unexpected promotion to Fourth Officer-- until it became clear that it was more about being a novelty American-born officer of the White Star Line than it was about his skill at the job. After another frustrating shift attending to First Class, he was rescued by the devilishly handsome Tony Stark, a notoriously brilliant troublemaker annoyed by his own role as the most tempting eligible bachelor on the ship.

Stark suggested a mutually beneficial agreement-- Steve would stand as a duty-borne chaperone to Tony's worst tendencies, thus saving Steve from endless hours of small talk in First Class. As soon as they shook on it, however, both realized their partnership carried much more potential. Length/Warnings: 3,951 words // D/s themes, sexual situations For @the-slumberparty prompt: "I'm the reason you're still alive"

Tags: @chickensarentcheap @linnadhiell @sobeautifullyobsessed @ronearoundblindly

Excerpt: A thought occurred, one that Tony had planted knowingly in his head. Steve didn’t know if he could even do it, and if he did, whether he'd do it right, but if he wanted to try. If he was going to do it at all, it needed to be now, before someone came by and saw them.

Steve moved one hand from where it was clutching Tony’s collar, sliding it along Tony’s arm along with the other, which had shifted away from Tony’s hip. Once both were close to the other man’s wrists, Steve pushed them back against the gate behind them in a sudden movement, catching the decorative twists of metal with his fingers to anchor himself.

Then he lifted his head from the kiss and said sternly, “Finish the sentence.”

Tony’s legs gave out for a few seconds, and Steve caught him with his hips, leading Tony to throw his head back against the gate and let out a deep, satisfied groan.

“This,” he managed, chest heaving. “You are the most pure form of temptation of anyone I’ve ever met, I hope you know that. All the money in the world, and I couldn’t buy you, could I?” 

Chapter Three: Angels to beckon me

Steve left Tony at eleven to report to the bridge. Captain Smith himself was there, and while the signals office sent up a few missives for Smith to look over, overall things were clear and uneventful. When the captain left to enjoy lunch, Lieutenant Wilde took over for him. Wilde liked things quieter than most, so the idle chatter that the rest of them had been engaging in died down.

That chatter had been useful in one important respect; it had helped Steve stay focused on the job at hand, instead of thinking about Tony. The kiss they had shared had been explosive in all respects, particularly the definition that involved the innards of something being violently exposed to great force. He’d very rarely felt so strongly about someone he’d just met. Somehow his skin and sense of duty was keeping him in one piece, but it was a very near thing.

He wanted to kiss Tony again.

He wanted to learn more about those ‘smudged lines.’

Just thinking about that gave Steve a forbidden kind of thrill. Their conversation had shifted to more mundane things after Tony’s imprecation to save the use of his first name, but throughout, there had been an undercurrent of explanation. Howard Stark was controlling and distant, appearing proud of his son around everyone but that son himself. Always, there had been an uncertainty of when Tony’s actions would result in mediocre praise or vehement censure.

In short, Tony had been left with a desire for order, reason, and now as an adult, he sought permission to engage in, as he’d described it, a particular kind of obedience. Steve had worried aloud that his own happy, loving childhood left him without the skills to relate to Tony’s experience in a useful way, but was quickly reassured that wasn’t the case.

“People come at these things from all angles,” Tony had said. He’d even suggested that it was quite possible his own ‘reasoning’ was borne out of a need to explain himself, and that he’d have liked those sorts of things anyway.

Steve had shyly requested a definition of ‘those sorts of things.’

Even standing as he was on the flagship of the White Star Line, looking out across the mighty north sea, Steve still felt like a simple Brooklyn boy when contemplating what Tony had described. He’d never imagined a world of such extremes was possible, much less that they could be enjoyed.

Still, the light in Tony’s eyes as he’d spoken about them had stirred something in Steve. He felt a powerful sense that if this charismatic, fascinating man was going to be involved in something that required him to be vulnerable like that, Steve wanted to be at the other end of it, protecting him. Pleasing him. Being the source of his joyful cries.

“Are you quite well, Rogers?”

Steve started in surprise, but nodded quickly. “My apologies, sir.”

“Not at all,” Wilde said. 

The moment was a wake-up call that those thoughts weren’t appropriate for the workplace. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Steve was fixated on Tony. He supposed that made an odd sort of sense, given the words he’d spoken just before he left:

“I’ve spent every waking hour on this ship looking forward to my bridge duty. Today, I wish it were already past, and we could have that time for ourselves. That’s the effect you have on me, Stark.”

The pleased look on Tony’s face still warmed Steve from within. Still, these preoccupations were causing concern and distraction, so he resolved to put Tony Stark from his mind for the rest of his time on the bridge.

That lasted all of twenty minutes.

It began with a knock on the bridge door, which was unusual in itself. Steve moved to answer, only to be confronted with the younger Stark on the other side. Tony was wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit, shades darker than his signature handkerchief.

Propriety demanded that Steve act as officer, not friend. “Mr. Stark, can we be of service in any way?”

The impish man’s lips twitched into a sardonic smile. “I dearly hope so. May I come in?”

“That would be highly irregu--” Steve was interrupted by Tony’s hand on his shoulder as he leaned in to give a jaunty salute to the others in the bridge. “Forgive me, sirs, but I find all of this deeply fascinating. You may know that my father thinks I’m an irredeemable degenerate--”

“By all means, straighten yourself and come in. Should we hit a swell…” Lieutenant Wilde said, a little wild about the eyes, appropriately enough.

“Thank you, good sir,” Tony said graciously, squeezing Steve’s shoulder before letting go. In a strange way, this situation felt different than breakfast had, even though Tony had acted outrageously both times. His lack of petulant disrespect was marked.

Steve wondered if it was meant to be instructive.

“As I was saying, Dear old Dad requested this paragon of duty to keep an eye on me, and I find myself at loose ends. Might I steal him back early?”

The sound of a choir mixed with alarm bells rang out in Steve’s head. Wouldn’t this behavior expose their affinity? Was he meant to object, and prevent such an occurrence?

“Well, Rogers?” Wilde said. He stood between Tony and Steve, his expression hidden from the other man, but as usual, his stoic nature didn’t reveal much.

“Truthfully, sir, I value my bridge time. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“I sensed that might be his answer,” Tony said. As Steve watched, confused, his eyes lit up and he clasped his hands in front of himself like a pleased inventor. “What of this: once his shift is complete, could I commission Rogers for a more extensive tour of the ship? I promise you that the Stark name would never find its way onto ships such as these, but I have always wanted to see the engine room of a behemoth like Titanic.” Tony sidled over to Wilde with a conspiratorial expression, speaking quietly as though the others in the bridge weren’t a captive audience. “My status is such that it would likely stress out your crew were I to take such a tour on myself, you see.”

“That sounds reasonable, sir,” Wilde conceded.

“It’s settled then! Best gird yourself with patience, Rogers!” Tony crowed, bounding over to the door and seeing himself out in a bustle of manic energy.

Blinking as though stunned, Wilde said, “That man is certainly exuberant.”

Steve found himself practically speechless. In one smooth move, Tony had secured the two of them the ostensible run of the ship for the rest of the day, while also giving the distinct impression that such a task would be more work for Steve than multiple bridge shifts. He’d also given Steve the chance to express enjoyment in doing his duty in front of someone to whom that would matter, and perhaps be remembered. 

Notwithstanding the dynamics man to man, that was the kind of power Steve wished to wield, in his professional life.

Once Steve was turned loose from his duties and went looking for Tony, he discovered that Stark was deep in a business conversation in the First Class smoking room, along with his father and some other prominent names.

It was impossible not to wonder if Tony had sought out Steve’s company earlier in an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, one of the birds being the chance to avoid that exact meeting. Instead of dwelling on it, he went to check on the status of his laundry in case he would be expected to attend First Class dinner again that evening.

Only one of his roommates was in their quarters when he came back with a crisp white shirt freshly ironed. Steve was arranging it on the hanger when there came a knock on the door.

His roommate called out a greeting, and the door opened. It was Tony, dressed as before.

“Had a bit of an adventure in search of you, which is good, because that meeting was such a bore I may never struggle to sleep for the rest of my life!” he said, slumping against the door frame. “Please say there’s time for that tour before I need to dress for dinner?”

Steve checked his pocketwatch, careful to keep his hand steady. The time was just before four-thirty in the afternoon. “Looks to be. How about we start in the more grimy areas? Gives you a chance to clean up before dinner, make a good impression.”

“Perfect,” Tony said, looking down at his (admittedly still very expensive) suit.

“Best change yours then, Stevie-boy,” the room’s other occupant piped up. “If you get anything on that borrowed uniform, you’ll be finding yourself a stoker, right quick!”

“True,” he said. Inwardly, his heartbeat sped up. There wasn’t anything improper about changing around other men, of course, unless you knew how much one of those other men looked forward to watching, that was. It couldn’t be helped. He decided that Tony would forgive him if Steve avoided catching his eyes during the quick swap-over, and that proved to be a good plan, given the coughing fit Tony started to suffer from, midway.

Tony was subdued through most of their convoluted journey down into the depths of the ship. Steve had opted for his civilian clothes but with his dark navy uniform jacket from years back. It was just enough of a signifier that he belonged where he was going, but didn’t involve getting any of his important articles of clothing dirty-- which was definitely an option. 

Steve snuck a glance at Tony, finally feeling uneasy about the other man’s almost studied silence through the makeshift tour so far. It wasn’t that he seemed disinterested in what Steve was explaining, it was that the impudent spark that often seemed to drive him was missing. Steve showed Tony the signal room, waving to Harold Bride but leaving quickly, as the telegraphist appeared to be quite busy. From there, they passed the sea post office on the way down one more level to the boiler rooms.

Tony seemed more interested there, and his manner was easygoing and charismatic as usual, setting the workmen at ease with jokes and stories. Still, when they’d spent probably far too much time in the space, both sweaty, their skin collecting the ambient grime of the area, Tony fell silent again as they started back up toward more ‘civilized’ spaces. Steve’s instincts about Tony’s demeanor felt almost selfish, conceited, even. Had Tony liked seeing Steve change clothes? Was his mind as consumed with Steve as Steve’s own thoughts had been about him, on the bridge? 

Finally, they came upon an empty corridor, the first since they’d descended so far down. Tony’s hand flew out toward Steve’s chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt and dragging him backwards toward a gated alcove guarding a dis-used set of stairs. Once out of view of the hallway, Tony yanked Steve toward him, and the collision of their bodies made a horribly loud noise against the locked metal gate.

Steve couldn’t begin to care, though, because Tony’s insistent hand was at the back of his neck, and then they were kissing frantically, setting fire to each other with tongue and touch.

“You didn’t hesitate, you couldn’t hesitate. Fuck, Steve, that was--” Tony mouthed against his lips, voice rough. Steve exulted in his own head, loving how affected Tony was, loving how affected it was making him. “In my head we’re already--” Tony added, breaking off to pull Steve closer with strength that made the action all the more exciting. He wanted to hear the rest, but couldn't bear to stop.

A thought occurred, one that Tony had planted knowingly in his head. Steve didn’t know if he could even do it, and if he did, whether he'd do it right, but if he wanted to try. If he was going to do it at all, it needed to be now, before someone came by and saw them.

Steve moved one hand from where it was clutching Tony’s collar, sliding it along Tony’s arm along with the other, which had shifted away from Tony’s hip. Once both were close to the other man’s wrists, Steve pushed them back against the gate behind them in a sudden movement, catching the decorative twists of metal with his fingers to anchor himself.

Then he lifted his head from the kiss and said sternly, “Finish the sentence.”

Tony’s legs gave out for a few seconds, and Steve caught him with his hips, leading Tony to throw his head back against the gate and let out a deep, satisfied groan.

“This,” he managed, chest heaving. “You are the most pure form of temptation of anyone I’ve ever met, I hope you know that. All the money in the world, and I couldn’t buy you, could I?” 

His tone was low, as though it took great effort to be articulate, and Steve sympathized, he really did. Something about Tony’s reaction made him feel both triumphant and conscientious, like giving Tony too much of what he wanted was irresponsible, that it was his job to protect him. That protecting him would be as satisfying as watching Tony come apart under his hands, someday.

“I have to earn you,” Tony whispered.

Steve wanted to feel Tony’s hands on him again. He wanted to keep Tony pinned and kiss him till his legs really did give out-- but was his response really an answer? Something told him this was the charcoal smudge, the boundary push, the crossed line. Whether Tony meant to or not, he was testing him.

“Spell it out, Stark,” Steve said, allowing himself to stroke his thumb along the side of one of Tony’s imprisoned hands. He used Tony’s last name on purpose, and it worked exactly as he’d hoped it would. The tension between them thickened, lengthened, and Tony’s dark brown eyes regarded him with respect and maybe even a little avarice.

“In my head, we’re past the first times. Almost like we know each other by instinct, instead of experience.” Tony rocked his hips, and Steve’s shift of surprise lined them up in just the right way, clothed erection to clothed erection. “You knew just what to say.”

“I pictured what your reaction might be, and I couldn’t resist,” Steve whispered.

In the hallway, a door opened and shut, and they heard footsteps. Immediately, Steve gentled his grip on Tony and stepped back, staying close enough in case he still had trouble with balance. It felt right, even more right when Tony grabbed his hand and, standing behind Steve and mostly out of sight, bent over to kiss the back of it with all the fervor of a fifteenth century knight.

“After dinner, we’re coming back down here, right?” Tony whispered, seconds after the steward piled high with mail bags walked past their alcove without looking over.

“Yes.”

Dinner was interminable. Neither of them dared look at each other much for the first half, until Howard Stark remarked on the occurrence. Tony spent the next twenty minutes regaling their table about a completely imaginary experience the two of them had in the boiler room. It involved a stoker taking offense to something Tony said, and Steve having to use diplomacy to keep the man and his fellow workers from laying their filthy hands on Tony’s favorite white dinner jacket.

Steve was mortified, but had to admit once Tony was done that it had been a compelling story that humanized the stokers as a little twist toward the end of it. Once again, he was impressed by Stark’s ability to take a moment and bend it to his will.

Hours after they excused themselves from the company of Tony’s fellow First Class men, Steve was reminded of the phrase ‘bent to his will.’ By then, Tony had spoken more about what he wanted for the two of them, had explained that it was only from outside that it looked like one man was in total control. That in fact, often times it is the more submissive of the pair who, by virtue of being the one most obviously vulnerable, holds a certain sort of sway over how events unfold.

Most importantly, though, Tony had said he wanted to know where Steve’s boundaries lay, what he liked, what he didn’t like. That had led the two of them where they were now, the forepeak storeroom on E deck, a place no one should bother them so late at night (even so, Steve had locked the door. The sound of a crewmember jingling his keys would give at least a modicum of warning, if they were to be discovered).

Tony’s demeanor changed quite a lot once Steve locked the door. With his big brown eyes he asked to get on his knees and have Steve try out giving him orders, ones angled toward teaching Tony what he liked, what gave him pleasure.

Steve fell back against the back wall and just looked at Tony. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a white shirt, and as Steve tried to remember how to breathe, Tony slowly undid his white tie, letting it fall loosely around his neck. He started forward.

“You’ll get your trousers dirty,” Steve said. He'd probably get everything dirty, down here. This was not a First Class place.

As though he’d hit a wall, Tony spun around, marched back where he came from, and faced Steve again. He re-tied his tie, then squared his shoulders and made eye contact as he untied it again.

Steve felt like he was being filled with desire from the toes up. He’d be completely insane for Tony by the time this mad wanting of him reached his waist, and once his lungs were subsumed, there would be no going back.

“I should make you walk back again just so I can watch you do it,” he muttered. 

Tony’s expression turned decidedly smug, but he kept his slow advance on Steve’s position. The words bent to his will resounded in his head, and then he had it. Steve leaned over and snagged an empty canvas bag, noting quickly that it seemed to be cleaner than the actual floor of the place. He threw it down at his feet.

“You asked me what I like? I like to avoid making extra work for others. Kneel on that.”

Tony’s grin broadened, and he nodded. When he was close enough, he touched his palm to Steve’s chest and used him as leverage to kneel, catching the fingers of that hand on his belt.

Bent to his will. “Undo the buckle.” It wouldn’t take any time at all for him to be fully erect, not with the promise on Tony’s face. Every single American and British swear word crossed Steve’s mind as he held himself up against the wall, watching Tony make short work of his trousers. It wasn’t until he folded the pants fabric back and tugged on Steve’s undergarment that he realized he hadn’t said to. “You sneaky bastard, you’re going to have me objecting to going farther than I instructed, aren’t you?”

Tony lifted an eyebrow. Steve wanted his mouth so badly he almost demanded just that, but those blasted words were a blessing and a curse. Tony was bending them around each other.  

“Undo the first three buttons of your shirt.”

There was no wiping off the smug appreciation on Tony’s face as he obeyed. Steve realized belatedly that he was getting credit for something he hadn’t intended; Tony needed both hands for this. A punishment and a reward.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of waiting any longer. That was a punishment and a reward as well, wasn’t it? Tony seemed to enjoy teasing.

“I need your mouth on me, now,” Steve said, only just barely keeping the whine out of his voice.

“Yes,” Tony growled, expertly unleashing him and leaning forward, one large hand steadying himself on Steve’s now bare hip. He took in several inches immediately, drawing back to look up for approval. 

“Very good, continue,” Steve managed in a strangled voice. He kept himself from making further noise only by clenching his hands around anything that wasn’t Tony he could find.

Over the next minutes, Steve dented several boxes as Tony used his hands, tongue, and his throat to completely destroy Steve for anyone else, all while looking up at him with the most expressive brown eyes Steve had ever seen. It was all he could do to issue any instructions at all, and he was beyond the ability to make them sound like he was anything but putty in Tony Stark’s capable, clever hands.

“Tell me to swallow, Steve,” Tony said, using a tone that broke through the pleasure haze. “I want to.”

“Swallow, oh please,” Steve blurted out, already coming.

Tony was sitting back on his heels with his own pants unzipped and bulging when Steve finished remembering who he was, where he was, and who he was with.

“Holy hell, Stark,” he said, catching himself too late to correct to the first name. Tony didn’t look disappointed, though he did look pained. “I forgot to continue with the--” Steve gestured vaguely downward, meaning the commands, the control, any balance of knowing what Tony needed out of the encounter. He didn’t know how to phrase it, given that he’d probably lost about half of his vocabulary in a blaze of glory just now.

“Oh, don’t worry. I learned a lot.” Tony reached up, and Steve helped him to his feet. Before he understood what was happening, Tony was pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaning him with it, before putting his trousers and belt to rights again.

“You don’t have to--” Steve started, but Tony was pulling him into a warm kiss, close-mouthed until Steve himself initiated something deeper. The respect inherent in that was so powerful that Steve reached down to cup Tony outside his clothing.

“Fuck, yes. I like everything. I like you. I want this, yes, yes,” Tony babbled against his lips, angling himself to give Steve more access.

“Everything?” Steve asked, reaching past his waistband for a long stroke.

“E.J. Smith could walk through that door and I would gladly give him a show right now. Your hand, ahhhhh.”

Tony’s enthusiasm was a powerful motivator, and if it weren’t for the fact that he hadn’t fully paid off his new uniform trousers and wouldn’t until they docked in New York, Steve would have dropped to his own knees, canvas bag or not. It had been forever since he’d gotten to touch any cock but his own, and never had he been in intimate contact with someone he cared about as much as he already cared for Tony Stark. Tony was lightning in his hands, vital, vocal, valuable.

Somewhere below them, an alarm went off, but Steve barely heard it. His eyes were shut, arm working, their kiss becoming more and more sloppy as the two of them worked in tandem to send Tony over the edge. 

“Steve, look at me, your eyes, I want to see--” Tony said brokenly. He’d been babbling praise and curses between kisses, hands grabbing at Steve in a way certain to bruise, but Steve did what was asked, locking onto the liquid-brown joy in Tony’s eyes just as he shuddered in Steve's arms.

The very next second, there was a wrenching tremor, as though the ship had struck something and, unable to stop, dragged across it.

Next Chapter...

[agxxb]

Hi! I would love if you wrote the scene where Kate get stung by the bee and Anthony freaks out but instead of Kate and Anthony it’s Benedict and reader and after she calms him down they smash cause he’s so relieved she’s ok 💖

hii!! i really hope you enjoy ◡̈

We’ll Bee Okay .𖥔 ݁ ˖

benedict bridgerton x f!reader

warnings: smut. loss of virginity. use of pet names (my love, darling). vaginal fingering. vaginal penetration. first time together. benedict is a consensual king. use of ‘y/n’. praise. [2k]

You and Benedict had always been close, having grown together. The two of you were best friends, which made admitting your mutual feelings easy. It was silently known before it was said aloud, the gentle smiles and soft touches shared only becoming more frequent as time passed.

You had been courting for just over a month and it was clear to anyone that the two of you were in love. Your eyes shone brighter whenever you looked in his direction, admiring the man like he placed each star delicately in the sky.

Benedict gently took ahold of your hand, linking your arm through his. You smiled up at him, slightly tightening your grip on his arm.

He had arrived at your house an hour prior, a bouquet of roses in his hand. Benedict loved to buy you gifts, often spoiling you despite telling him he didn’t have to.

You turned a corner into flower garden, a fountain placed in the middle; the droplets of water bounced off the surface and flew out, landing in the soil. Walking over to stand by it, the two of you were surrounded by nature, taking a long moment to appreciate it.

“You are so beautiful,” you heard Benedict say, and your cheeks flushed, turning as pink as the tulips near you.

“Thank you,” you replied and breathed out softly, happily. “You are also beautiful.”

Benedict grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to top of it. Your smile widened at his action, fighting the urge to giggle out of pure joy. He unlinked your arms, instead taking your hands in his and turning to face you.

“You make me so incredibly happy, Lady Y/N,” Benedict began, his thumb caressing the delicate skin of your knuckles. He loved how soft your skin was, always wanting to be touching you in one way or another.

Before either of you could respond, you flinched slightly at the feeling of a small prick on the side of your arm. A small buzz was heard as a bee flew around nearby, and you sadly sighed to yourself as you realised it would now die.

You turned back to Benedict and apologised for the interrupted moment. However, as your eyes met his blue ones, you noticed his face had paled.

“You do not look well.”

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, though rather quickly. He gently took your arm in his hands, eyes locked on the sting mark to see how severe it was.

“Benedict, I can assure you, I am completely fine,” you smiled, not yet realising his genuine panic to the situation. “I have been stung plenty of times.” He began to hyperventilate, his grip on your arm becoming slightly tighter. “Are you okay?”

You put your hands on either side of his face, heart breaking at his expression. His hands frantically grabbed at your waist, pulling you towards him.

“You cannot die,” he said breathlessly, gulping despite his dry throat. “I cannot lose you. Please. I love you.”

“Benedict, I’m fine,” you repeated when you heard his muttering. You took his hands in yours, bringing them up and holding them to your chest. You took deep breaths, making sure he was following along with you. “I’m okay, you’re okay.”

“You’re okay…” Benedict repeated, his voice cracking slightly. It was almost as if he was convincing himself, rather than simply copying your words.

You leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I’m okay, My Darling,” you promised, pressing another kiss to his nose, and finally his lips. Benedict breathed out through his nose, eyes closing as he felt your touch. “I love you.”

You had become his reason — his reason for existing, for breathing, for waking up each morn. You grounded him, humbled him, cheered for him. You loved him, and he did you.

Pulling away, your foreheads rested against each other — two pillars of strength, holding one another up. Benedict breathed out once more, feeling the terror leave his body and relief replace it. You were close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“Perhaps we should head back,” you suggested quietly, not wanting anything else to set your lover off. You couldn’t bear to see him so scared, so worried. Benedict nodded in agreement, a small smile on his face as he – once again – took ahold of your hand.

The somewhat short carriage ride was almost silent, Benedict squeezing your hand every now and then as if to make sure you were still there. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, head moving up and down in rhythm with his breaths.

Once having arrived at your family’s house, you stepped through the entrance and led Benedict towards the staircase, climbing it and walking down the hallway until you stopped in front of a white door. Your family would not be home for a few more hours.

“Would you like to come in?” you offered, seeing a smile make its way onto his face.

“It would be inappropriate for me to enter your bedroom before we are wed, would it not?” Benedict teased, though made no move to leave. His smile suddenly fell, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I had reason for our outing today, but…” He sighed.

“You had something planned?” you asked, heart warming with how thoughtful he was. He truly was the most perfect man for you.

Without responding, Benedict reached into his left trouser pocket, pulling out a small black box. He opened it, turning it around for you to see a diamond ring inside. You gasped in awe, eyes widening slightly as you realised what he was showing you.

“You were going to propose…” you said in realisation, looking away from the ring and up at him, tears pooling in your eyes.

Benedict nodded. “I am going to propose,” he corrected before kneeling down, holding the ring out to you. “Lady Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, a tear falling down your cheek. A grin broke out on his face as he stood up, pressing his lips against yours with a hand on your cheek, thumb wiping away the fallen tear.

The kiss started out soft and gentle, but quickly became passionate, deeper. Your hands slid up his chest to lock around his neck, pulling him closer. You reached behind you to open the door, both moving backwards into your bedroom. Benedict kicked it closed behind him, you pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor.

His kiss was full of desperation, bringing his free hand to the tied lace at the back of hour dress, trying to loosen them. His lips moved down to your neck, a soft moan leaving your parted lips at the feeling.

Benedict groaned at the sound, walking you back towards the bed and letting your dress fall to the floor. Gently laying you down on top of the sheets, he stood back and began unbuttoning his shirt, allowing you to watch as his toned torso came into your view. You bit your lip as his shirt fell from his body, leaving the man half-naked before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly, almost as if it were a secret between the top of you.

He climbed on top of you, hovering over your body and peppering light kisses against your neck once again. His hand came down to undo his trousers, your eyes focusing on his cotton briefs. You had seen them before, but never on someone.

You began to squirm, feeling the ache between your legs grow stronger as your lover undressed himself. You lightly moaned, reaching a hand out to touch him. Your hand made contact with the bare skin of his stomach, the warmth exuding into your palm. “Please…”

Benedict smiled, pushing up the skirt of your chemise and, with your help, pulling it over your head. He leaned down, holding himself up over you once again. He kissed you, soft and passionately.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You nodded. “I need words, My Love.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Good girl.”

His hand ran down your body, palm flat against your waist. He admired you, adored you, worshipped you. You were his religion. Your existence redefined poetry for him; everything you embodied had become the meaning of art to his eyes.

His middle finger moved down and your hips jolted. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, slowly sliding a finger into you. You gasped, hand shooting out to grab his wrist. His response was to pump his finger in and out of you, thumb moving up to circle your swollen clit.

Benedict smiled at your reaction to him adding a second finger, your eyes rolling back as he curled them. “Oh, my-” you moaned, hand moving up to grip his bicep, feeling the muscles move under your hold.

Pleasure consumed you, moaning every time his fingers reentered and curled inside you. Your eyebrows scrunched together, mouth falling and staying open as whines left freely.

You tightened around Benedict’s fingers, a sign that you were close. “Let go for me, Darling,” he whispered, and pleasure swept through your entire body like hot, molten lava. Your legs shook around his hand as his thumb still rubbed your clit, guiding you through your orgasm.

You took a deep breath, eyes immediately searching for his. “That was incredible,” you thanked him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed back, his face soon breaking out with a smile, one which you quickly reciprocated.

“Did you want to stop?” Benedict asked, not even being able to finish the sentence before you were shaking your head, hand around the back of his neck to bring him closer.

“Need more, Benedict,” you moaned, kissing his cheek and down to his neck. “Please.”

He let out a moan, pulling away to look at you. “Are you sure?”

“Wholeheartedly. We are to be wed, you are the only man I want.”

Benedict pressed another kiss to your lips before pushing his cotton briefs down. Your eyes widened as you looked down, seeing how hard he was. You had been told stories of what happened between man and woman on their wedding night, your mama having explained before you were set to debut at the 1810 social season.

“It’s so… big,” you breathed out, Benedict chuckling at your reaction.

He lined himself up at your entrance, pressing in slowly. Tears pricked at your eyes as he continued to push into you, a moan leaving his mouth at your warmth. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, pushing it into the pillow beside your head.

“I’m sorry, My Love,” he said, wiping away the tear that had fallen with his thumb. “It won’t hurt in a moment.”

Benedict started to gently thrust into you, and you quickly felt the pain turn into pleasure. You gripped at his arms, moaning into his ear as his face rested in the crook of your neck. He was panting, loving how wet you were — and all for him.

You begged him to speed up, the slapping of his thighs hitting the back of yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer, deeper.

It wasn’t long before you began to feel the knot tighten in the bottom of your stomach again. You pulled Benedict out from your neck and down into a kiss. His right hand moved down, rubbing circles on your clit as you pulled away to moan.

You let the pleasure consume you, eyes squeezing shut as you clung onto your fiancé. Feeling you clamp down around him set his own orgasm off, Benedict pushing his hips as close to yours as possible, going as deep as he could.

He moaned, his body falling onto yours, though making sure not to crush you with his body weight. You wrapped your arms around him, fingertips lightly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He left kisses along your jaw before pulling out and rolling to your side, the two of you lying in content silence.

Benedict kissed your shoulder delicately. “I cannot wait to spend my life with you.”

[parttimepuff]

Oh I’m sure nothing can go wrong once you meet Reverie, you certainly won’t be taken by his kids charm or anything. Nothing going wrong at all.

Stepping out into the living room again, Dedede raised an eyebrow. "Not sure why yer sayin' that like it's a bad thing." He commented, the others turning to look as he walked over. "Isn’t that a move Orbee knows?" Beep wondered aloud before realizing what she'd said, clamping her mouth shut. "A" Reverie squeaked, the king glancing between them. "Orbee..?" He prompted. The Dream Fae stayed silent. It wasn't easy to bring up that he had more children.

Staring at him for a moment, Dedede sighed. "…well, we're not done talkin' yet. We can touch on that, too." He relented. "R-right." Reverie mumbled, relieved that he had a little more time at the least. "You, still gotta talk, yeah." Beep agreed. "And learn how cool and good Rev is so he can stay." She added. "Aww, Beep…" Her father replied, touched. "Seconded." Gremlin spoke up. "Thirded!" Luna joined in. All the support was making him misty-eyed.

"Heh, guess so. You should tell me some more about ya." The penguin figured. "What haven't I said yet, though..." Reverie trailed off. "A heck of a lot, feathers." Dedede answered, a little annoyed with his continued dodging. Bristling, Beep cut in "He’s a good person, though. That’s important to remember." The king gave her a suspiscious look. "…yeah, ah will." He finally replied. "I, um, sorry, I guess I'm just, not sure what you want to know." The Dream Fae expressed, hoping to disract, even if it meant more questions.

"Well, fer starters, there's where ya've been hiding here in Dreamland for however long. Or how ya came across Beep. Or why the other me came after you, which you keep avoidin-" Dedede listed, being swiftly interupted before he could go on. "I-I've been hiding in the caves around Grape Gardens." Reverie explained. "We stayed away from people a lot, made sure no one found us." Beep elaborated. "Except the two a you, ah'm guessin'." The king pointed out, gesturing to Luna and Gremlin.

"Right… We can kinda sense each other, since we're made of each other's weakness. And I introduced him to Luna." Gremlin confirmed. "Mmhm. I doubt I would've met them otherwise." Luna thought. "We stayed away from people, Luna and Gremlin are friends." Beep huffed. "Didn't think the two were mutually exclusive, but fair 'nough." Dedede joked. As things were going well, Reverie pressed on to the second question. "And um. Me n' Beep met a few years back when I went to another planet. The uh… Tac planet."

"The nameless one?" Dedede guessed. "Yeah. She wanted to stay with me and I'm… just really glad that she did." Reverie told him. Beep looked at him, confused. There was more to that story than what he was sharing, much more. Which wasn't lost on the king. "Kinda expected a longer story for that one." "W-well, I…" The Dream Fae murmured, nerves getting to him again. "Hey, it's ok, Rev. You learned from it." Gremlin encouraged him. "nnn… I was… in a really bad place." His mirror managed.

It was starting to make sense why he was being cagey. "Ah. Not easy to look back on?" Dedede assumed. "For meeting Beep it is, not so much for the rest." Reverie explained. This was getting painful. Maybe that was what pushed Beep to get it over with. "He ran away from his family." She blurted out. A heavy silence fell over the house. "…y-yeah." Her father all but whispered. The king paused, approaching more carefully now. "From, Twister?" He questioned. "Yeah, but… not mainly." The Dream Fae admitted.

"He was, scared-" Beep tried, Dedede maintaining eye contact with her father. "Of..?" He prompted. "…there's, no easy way to, to say it." Reverie mumbled, guilt weighing down on him again. Luna silently placed a nub on his wing for support. "I… I have a history of… of giving too much to people and… ruining relationships. A-and I just, felt like it was go-onna happen again…" The Dream Fae continued, difficult as it was. "But to Orbee…" The Matter finished the sentiment. Though she'd been able to see the memory from his side of things, it somehow hit differently to hear it out loud.

"Orbee. That's..?" Dedede trailed off. Seemed he couldn't hold it off for long. "O-orbee's my first kid… Um, Beep's older, but I was with them first." Reverie explained. "Y-you have two of em-" The penguin started, growing nervous, before he was cut off. "They're not a Matter like Beep is." The Dream Fae answered his question before he could ask it. "O-oh. And yer sayin' you ran out on them?" The king summarized, no longer nervous, but stern. "…y-yeah, i did. I thought I'd make their life worse and I… it's not an excuse for it at all…"

Luna gave him a pat to reassure him. "B-but you went back!! You’re a good person-" Beep insisted, both for the king and her father to believe it. "nnn…" Reverie groaned, not convinced. "Ah'm hopin' ya learned something." Dedede stated, gaze still flat and serious. "He did. I made sure of it." Gremlin responded, matching his gaze. "Good man." The penguin nodded. "He's been a wonderful father ever since, to both of them." The puff added, hoping to improve the atmosphere.

"Oh yeah, Gremlin punched him in the face. Like really really hard." Beep piped up. "Damn, Twister!" Dedede exclaimed, now more impressed than anything. "I do not regret it." Gremlin said, his brother's feathers fluffing up. "I, yeah… neaither do I." Reverie agreed, knowing he needed the wake up call. "It was so fucking cool-" His daughter continued, frustrating him. "Ok, it wasn't that cool-" The Dream Fae started. "Thanks!" The Dream Demon interupted.

"Kinda wish ah'd seen it!" Dedede laughed. "uuugh." Reverie groaned, not entirely sure if this was a better outcome to this story. "Rev, you rolled like eight feet it was insane-" Beep reminded him. "He surprised me!!" Her father defended. "It got the point across." Gremlin shrugged. "Across his FACE-" The Matter continued. It certainly wasn't comfortable to be reminded, but teasing him over taking a punch was better than dwelling on his mistake.

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Synchronoise

This is kind of a conglomeration of @hoofpeet ‘s take on one way telepathy and @dragonofthedepths version.

Note: This is unfinished and I likely won’t be returning to it. It ends abruptly and is littered with placeholders/notes. If that’s a dealbreaker for you, you’re better off skipping this. 

---

Emmet has no clue what dictates their broken telepathy, but whatever is at the control panel turns that switch again roughly one week after he’d last heard from Ingo. At that time, his brother had been dealing with [idk], and, for a second, he wonders if that was still an ongoing problem. Then the actual words register.

“Is this normal for me? Did… I just forget?”

Ah. It’s another one of those days. Sympathy pangs in his chest, but there’s nothing to be done; he wishes so badly that there was. It’s difficult to hear and, he suspects, worse to live through.

The pang redoubles, and he’s briefly taken off guard.

“Worrying again? I suppose it’s difficult not to when one has so much on his plate. Hopefully [idk] has been resolved, at least; that would give him some breathing room.”  It’s followed by a pause, and the impression of a heavy sigh, “What in Sinnoh’s name is that?”

Emmet disregards that last part, unable to move past the allusion to [w/e]. There was no reason for that to follow the line of [thought]-- if Ingo was responding to his thoughts, and he’d been reacting to Ingo’s…

“Can you hear me?”  He asks, urgent and anticipatory.

There’s a puzzled psychic silence, followed eventually by, “...what?”

“Yes or no, Ingo. Can you hear me?”

“Yes…?”

Without meaning to, he laughs aloud, triumphant. [?] spares him a look, but quickly goes back to work.

“I did not trigger any change in our connection. Did you do something to alter it? Whatever it was. Don’t do it again.”

“I was just making the rounds, so I’m uncertain what could have happened. I-- I’ll endeavor not to reverse on the tracks, but given the circumstances...”  Ingo doesn’t follow up on what his circumstance entails, opting, instead for, “You consider this normal, then? Do we speak like this often?”

“Always. We’ve been connected our entire lives.”  Emmet says instantly, and the reality that he can finally help is overwhelming. There are so many things he wants to confirm, to clarify or correct, but for now, he has to understand what’s going on. “Can you elaborate on the complication you’ve encountered?”

“Our entire lives...”  Ingo repeats, and, briefly, Emmet gets a vague sense of his whirling thoughts, but with their link back in working order, it’s not the bombardment it could have been, “Pardon me. Yes, I believe that would be mutually beneficial; you will be able to tell me if something is out of the ordinary, correct?”

He can only hope the [hesitation] doesn’t come across as he says, “As they pertain to the both of us, yes. I can. If you are referring to Hisui. Then no.”

“That’s… precisely what I meant to ask you about. Do I make a habit of falling into a new station every few years?”

“...No?”

There’s a short, “Ah.”

“Is that what happened? You fell and landed in Hisui?”

“I’m unable to say how I arrived in Hisui with any certainty.” / “However, that is how I landed… uh, here.”

“You… do not know where you are. It is not within Hisui?”  He barely waits for the negative before going on to [say] “Describe your surroundings to me.”

“I stepped out of a cave.”  Ingo says, and that much at least, he [says] with a confidence that quickly abandons him, “It appears to be a settlement, though far larger than anything I’ve ever seen. There seems to be some manner of… thing sunning itself on the stone walkways? It resembles a Garchomp in the very loosest sense.”

“I see.”  Emmet lies, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are there any landmarks beyond this ‘thing’?”

“There’s a spire in the distance.”  He returns after a moment, and there are so many famous towers across the world it’s impossible to say-- for all Emmet knows, his brother could be looking at Johto’s Tin Tower-- but then he adds, “This is going to sound rather ridiculous, but I believe some of these houses are made of glass.”

“Please,” Emmet thinks without moderating himself, already out of his chair and waving [?] off. To Ingo, mentally [waving off] the confusion his outburst incited, he asks,“You mentioned something sunning itself on a walkway. Is there a building at the track’s end?”

“The glass ones, yes.”

“At the other end.”

“Yes, there is.”

He turns his head and stifles relieved sob into his elbow, running blind for several steps. Fortunately, no echo of it comes across in their conversation, “Good. I want you to enter that building and ask for Skyla. Ideally, you will stay there. But if she has reason to take you elsewhere, relay her directions and follow them.”

Though they haven’t spoken in [timeframe?] Emmet can still read the discussion’s flow and, before Ingo settles on a particular set of words, he says, “Wait for me. I will be there as soon as I am able.”

[There’s a vague affirmative, wondering re: the plane-- he’s told Emmet will explain later, or he can ask Skyla about it]

He steps onto the first west-bound train through the station; it only takes him so far as Driftveil, but that will be enough. Already, he’s working on how to get through the next two stops as fast as humanly possible, humoring the stray thoughts that make it his way, and Ingo’s continuing sense of bafflement. A minute and thirty seconds into the commute, he receives a breathless call from Skyla.

“You need to get over here right now, Emmet.” She says immediately and, after a second’s consideration, follows it up with, “Hi.”

He tilts his head and angles his Xtransceiver to show the interior of the car he’s riding, “I am already on my way.”

“You’re Emmet.”  He hears at the back of his head. It’s less an epiphany, and more two cabs of thought that, while linked for some time, have only just departed together.

“I am! You spent a verrrrry long time trying to remember me.” / “Thank you. I know it was not easy.”

He catches the barest hint of something self-deprecating in reply, and immediately throws it out of the conversation.

The real world [conversation] he’s having continues as Skyla opens her mouth as if to protest what seems, to her, a coincidence, but catches herself midway there, “Your weird twin thing’s back?”

In the background there’s a [?] “We’re twins?” which prompts a grimace from Skyla as she turns to look his way, “Lords, Ingo, what happened to you?”

Emmet is unfazed by the question; Ingo had struggled to recall his name, so how was he meant to remember the exact nature of their relation? The important thing is that he had cared enough to wrest the foggy half-memories free in the first place.

That’s not to say Emmet is completely unmoved, however. It’s the first time in [timeframe] he’s heard his brother’s voice aloud, and it kickstarts [???]; he presses the heel of his free hand against his eyes, dabbing away any evidence.