#super fucking clumsy as usual

[floorpancakes]

decided i wanna draw watanuki in a maxi dress today as my warmup type thing but if it flops everyone pretend you didn't see this post

[silverselfshippingchaos]

MA'AM???

[davinawritings]

Monster Boyfriend With Clumsy Reader Drabble

Monster Boyfriend x Super Clumsy Reader.

Monster Boyfriend is a prime example of agility, strength, and coordination. You, however… possess none of those qualities.

Most days, Monster Boyfriend threatens to buy you a plastic bubble to keep you safe. He has literally watched you trip going up the stairs multiple times. He didn’t even know someone could fall up until he met you.

He also does not trust you in the kitchen. He’s shocked the house is still standing with the fires you have caused. At this point, he’s pretty sure you could make boiling water catch fire.

He has also learned to keep sharp objects up high and fully secured. You bump into everything and anything. He also recently decided to invest in bruise cream because of how much you go through. 

He absolutely adores you, but you definitely give him anxiety with how clumsy you are. He only feels truly calm when he has you in his lap because he knows you can’t get into any trouble that way. Eventually, you get bored and want to get up and move around; that’s usually when he fucks you dumb to tire you out, spending the rest of the day just napping and cockwarming him. Honestly, the cockwarming is just for your safety at this point.

[tarisbackyard]

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

[arkangelo-7]

I bet that Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake, as the Batfamily’s resident corporate America breadwinners, have to occasionally go play a round of golf to keep up appearances with WE shareholders. The only problem is that they’re both fucking terrible at golf.

And when I say they’re bad, like, holy shit, they are really bad. For two people who often have to save the universe with their intelligence, concentration, and ability to effectuate incredibly complex, precision-reliant plans, they are both somehow really, really fucking awful at golf of all things.

Bruce, at least, has the Brucie Wayne disguise to hide how absolutely awful he is at golf. Which totally works for him, because he hates the reminder that he is inherently terrible at something. So, whenever he’s dragged out for a round with Lucius and the WE board members, he just pretends to get super drunk, act a little more clumsy then normal, and hits on the caddy until everyone just writes him off as too much of an ditz to put any effort into his golf swing. It drives Lucius nuts, because he actually likes golf and he thinks Bruce is just pretending to be bad as part of his cover for Batman—there is at least one occasion where he asks Bruce to show a little more decorum on the course and actually try to play, and Bruce just… blue screens. Because in reality he is actually horrible at golf and he needs the excuse of “dumbass Brucie Wayne” or his ego will implode.

Tim, however. Poor Tim.

Tim, unfortunately does not get to play the idiot to cover up his absolute shit golf game. (There is only so much room in the family for idiots and he has to keep up appearances as Jack and Janet Drake’s son.) As such, he avoids any and all golf courses as much as possible—but everyone once in a while there’s a potential merger or business deal he needs to discuss with someone important, and the best way to get the deal done is on a golf course. So Tim has to spend the next three and a half hours of his life torturing himself through a round of golf. (He ends up losing twelve balls, taking seven swings on a Par 3, somehow broke his putter, and tripped into a bunker.) The only upside is that his pure determination to actually finish the round, despite how godawful he is, is usually what actually convinces the investors/partner/board members agree to work out a deal with him.

But it’s best (or worse) when Bruce and Tim play golf together. It isn’t often—stories of their infamously terrible golf games means that most people will only invite one of them at a time—but inevitably they do end up on a course together at one point, and holy fuck, it is a miracle they don’t burn the place down.

[the-teufort-nine]

Arousal hcs for the support class? What are they like when they’re horny?

Support Classes | What Support Is Like When They Need To Go To Horny Jail

Obviously, NSFW below!

Sniper:

<3 This man will go to insane lengths for privacy to jork it. Like, he will straight up drive off into the desert before his belt even gets unbuckled.

<3 UNLESS he gets hot 'n bothered during battle, and he has the object of his infatuation nearby his nest. Then they're getting yoinked off the battlefield and into his lap.

<3 Listen. This man is gross. I know this. You know this. Don't lie to yourself. He definitely has a scent kink and will snag his partner/crush's underwear to help him get off if they're not around.

<3 Get's FERAL when he's horny. If he's alone, he bites his hand so hard it bleeds, and if he's with someone, they ain't leavin' till he breeds. Expect lots of growls and snarls and rough love bites.

<3 Want him to get horny immediately? Stretch and show your neck/midriff.

<3 Likes post-nut snuggles. Don't expect him to be vocal for a little while.

Spy:

<3 Despite being such a romantic person who clearly gets bitches, he doesn't get horny very often. Like, if he's with someone, then obviously he doesn't have any problems getting it up, but he doesn't usually pop a boner midday.

<3 When he does though? Insatiable. This man is not going to settle for any old porn magazine. No, he's going to get his material straight from the source. Is this an invasion of privacy? Yes. Does he care? Right now, not at all.

<3 Acts just as stuttering and clumsy as his son if the person he's interested in shows up when he's trying to take care of himself, before he get's hella snappy. Either fuck off or come help him!

<3 Really slow to trust and get comfortable with someone. Don't expect the mask to come off until you have a super strong bond with Spy.

<3 Usually quiet if he's masturbating, but he likes to praise his partners. Lots of petting and light hair pulling to guide them.

<3 Wanna give him a 'problem?' Put on a classy outfit and take the lead. Tease him a little, and if you're good enough, he'll fold like wet, hard laundry.

<3 Post-nut cigarette inbound. King of aftercare, but please treat him nice too.

Medic:

<3 Exhibitionism! Get your exhibitionism here!

<3 This man has no shame. He won't do it, like, in the common areas, but if you walk into his Medbay or Room after work hours, that's on you. Def has masturbated on the battlefield before. Man's is a FREAK for blood and gore.

<3 Also pretty insatiable, though he gets hornier more often than Spy does. He can take care of himself, but he prefers a warm body to help him out.

<3 He's into bloodplay, doctor/nurse roleplay, and probably wound fucking, if I'm being honest. Also, he decided that, out of all the things he could of done to get back at Team Classic, he decided to get them pregnant.

<3 What i mean here is: Medic has a breeding kink, and he will make it a reality, no matter the sex of his partner.

<3 LOUD ASS GERMAN MAN. People know when he's taking care of himself or getting some. Please gag him. PLEASE.

<3 Wanna make him think with his other head? Dress up in a nurse outfit and/or rip someone's organs out. Fair warning, though, if you take the 'and' option, you'll be walking funny for a while, if you can walk at all.

<3 Great at cleaning you and him up post-nut. Gets clingy afterwards and very possesive. Pray your teammates don't accidentally stumble across you, because they're gonna meet a bloody end.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Taste of the Devil

!!!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! 18+

Summary: When your girlfriend needs your help, you are more than willing to offer your services.

Warning: vampire!Kate Bishop, super solider!Reader, smut, fluff, lots of talk of blood, dom!reader, sub!Kate, mention of subspace, fingering (Kate receiving), nipple play (Kate reciving), reader is a little freaky, pet names, swearing, no y/n, no physical description of reader but they are strong, poorly written smut lol

Word Count: 2.4K

“Shit, fuck,” you heard your girlfriend say when you entered your shared apartment. Kate swore like a trucker, so that was no surprise to hear, but her worried tone made you realize something was wrong. You toed off your shoes and gently closed the door behind you. No one heard you come in, not even your girlfriend’s four-legged companion. The dog was trying to provide some comfort to his distraught owner. The archer was on the couch, her hands covering her face and leaning back.

“Katie girl,” you said softly, not wanting to startle the girl, and sat down next to her. Lucky’s ears pricked up at your sudden appearance, but he kept his head on Kate’s lap. “What’s wrong?” she threw her hands to the side with a huff.

“Problem at the blood bank,” she mumbled. Her left leg started to bounce. “Tony can’t get any.” Ah, there it was. She was hungry.

“When was the last time you ate?” You whispered, even though no one else was in the apartment.

“Last week, maybe. I can’t remember. It’s been busy,” Kate was right. Usually, you were better at picking up on her cues when she was hungry. But you were stretched thing with helping the Avengers and Yelena. “Tony said it might come in tomorrow or the day after, but I-”

“You’re hungry,” you placed your hand on the back of her neck and gave it a comforting squeeze. The contrasting temperature of her skin against yours was one of your favorite things about dating Kate. You knew the archer was different the moment you were introduced to her. With your enhanced senses, you could never hear a heartbeat and never hear her inhale air into her lungs. Sometimes, you caught her eyes flickering from blue to red—her healing ability was on par with or better than yours.

You became fascinated with the archer, and a close friendship turned into you asking her out on a date. She told you the truth about what she was: a vampire. The Bishop family can be traced back to the 18th century.

Sometimes, you forget how powerful your girlfriend is. Most of the time, she was gentle and soft. She was easy to fluster, and she stumbled over her words when you told her how beautiful she looked. She was your Katie girl, the best dog mom, and a little clumsy from time to time. Under all that, she was a predator, and predators needed to be fed.

Which led to the current predicament. Her kind stopped feeding on humans centuries ago due to the donation of blood banks; Tony was in charge of all the paperwork. She was an animal lover and hated the idea of hunting. Besides, she told you that blood tastes weird if the animal had a disease. The same was said for humans. Humans poured junk into their bodies - drugs, alcohol, even vitamins, and it could be tasted in their blood. Clean blood is hard to come by, Kate said.

However, that got you thinking about what you tasted like. You knew you smelt good to her. On movie nights, her nose would be pressed against your neck, and her deep inhales and exhales caused goosebumps to form on your skin. She said you smelt earthy, like the smell of rain - a dampened forest, a mixture of pine and mass. The deep, earthy scent of the Earth after a storm.

Maybe it was wrong to fantasize how it would feel to have her drink from you. The sharp pinch of her teeth and the way she would be filled with your blood. You pushed those selfish thoughts away. “You know,” you said slowly, playing with the baby hairs that couldn’t be pulled into her ponytail. “You could drink from me.” Kate physically recoiled away from you. Your hand fell to the couch.

“No,” she snapped.

“Baby,” you tried to move closer to her, but she stopped you. “You can’t hurt me.”

“We don’t know that,” she countered. Yes, but you’ve endured worse injuries. Even Professor Xavier was impressed with your healing ability. It was as good as Logan’s. There was one time you traveled from Russia way back to the city with a piece of rebar in your side. You were proud of yourself, and you only passed out once.

“You need to eat. I bet you are starting to get a headache,” she allowed you to touch her temples and massage the area. She moaned quietly at the relief. “My little bat,” you cooed. “Aren’t you a little curious about what I taste like?” Her eyes turned red, and every bit of blue was gone, as she looked at the vein in your neck.

“Do you want me to bite you?” Her voice shook. Her resolve was breaking.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t 100% okay with it,” you wondered if she could hear your heartbeat. The very idea of it sent your body into overdrive. You were excited, nervous, and maybe a little turned on.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay,” you repeated.

*

Kate brought Lucky upstairs and locked him in your shared room with a Kong, bones, and toys. You changed into a white tank top and a pair of sweatpants. You sat on the couch, patiently waiting for Kate. Tapping your hands on your thighs, you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. “You can change your mind,” you turned to see Kate. She also changed into one of your shirts and sleep shots. “I can hear your heart pounding from upstairs.” You chuckled.

“Just anxious,” you told her as she sat beside you. “Just don’t go all Dracula on me.” The archer glared at you.

“I hate that movie,” she said. “It ruined the image of my kind.” You laughed and cupped her cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby, I trust you,” you kissed her softly. “It’s okay. Feed.” You felt her letting out a shaky exhale against your lips.

“Stay still, okay?” You nodded and tried to control your breathing as she leaned into your neck. You expected her to sink her teeth into your skin. Instead, you felt her lips kiss the spot, gently soothing the area with her tongue. It was a nice gesture, but it did not help the beating of your heart. Her cold fingers touched the vein. “Just stay still,” she repeated. “I-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence and sunk her teeth into you.

“Shit,” you grunted in pain, face contracting briefly. Soon, it was replaced with pleasure that washed over your entire body.

You remembered Kate telling you how intimate it was to drink from a person. It was why she tried to avoid it even when it was allowed. This feeling was euphoric, something you’ve experienced before. Her lips on your neck as she sucked and fed on you was sending you into a spiral. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, and you loved it. You were addicted to it.

You grabbed the nap of her neck and pulled her against you, demanding her to be closer. Her hand moved to your chest, pinning you to the couch. It was a silent reminder to stay still, but the sudden display of strength caused your hips to buckle.

“I said,” she detached herself from your neck. “Stay still,” she licked the wound she created. “Shit,” she said in disbelief. “You do heal fast.” You chuckled and turned to look at her. Her eyes were slowly returning to their normal color, but she needed more. Without any words, you pulled her onto your lap. She gasped at the sudden movement.

“Then bite me again,” you whispered, breathlessly. Kate looked you over, probably checking to make sure you were okay with continuing. The second bite was much less hesitant, and you knew the type of pain to expect. Instead of holding onto her neck, you moved your hands to her hips. Both of your hips buckled into each other. Her moan rattled through your body.

“Fuck,” your eyes rolled in the back of your head and grabbed her ass. It was on instinct to start moving her hips against you. Your body was on fire. Every sense was Kate. Her cold skin against yours. The soft moans in your ears. The smell of her arousal hit your nose. “So fucking beautiful,” you groaned. Your hands traveled underneath her (your) shirt and covered each inch of her skin with your hands. You pinched one of her nipples, and she removed her teeth from you as a quiet moan ripped through her. Kate’s hips stopped moving as her forehead rested against yours. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was heaving like she ran a marathon.

“Did I tell you to stop?” you asked. Her eyes snapped open. Gone was the red, but they were glossy—a look she only got when you pushed her into a certain headspace. “Awe, my poor baby,” you cooed. Did your head get all fuzzy because you are full of my blood?” She wined, eyes rolling back slightly. “Do you always get wet when you feed?” you joked.

“Do you always get wet when someone bites you?” She used your words against you.

“Cheeky little bat,” you smiled, connecting your lips with hers. You pushed your tongue into your mouth and moaned at the taste of your blood. Shit, when did you turn into a freak? “How do I taste?” It was your turn to press kisses against the column of her throat.

“Sweet,” she began to move her hips against yours. “Like honey,” she chuckled breathlessly. “Better than the blood bags.” You took great pride in that statement. You knew you weren’t the greatest with your body, drowning your past in alcohol and the occasional drug use. It must be the serum she was tasting that ran through your veins. Still, if those were going to be a recurring trend, you made a promise to yourself to treat your body better.

“I guess you have your personal blood bag,” you teased, and your hand moved over the top of her shorts. “Shit, baby,” you ran the tip of your fingers over her folds and collected the wetness. “You’re soaked.” Her head fell to your shoulder.

“Please,” the archer mumbled. A simple kiss to your neck sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Please, what, Katie girl?” You teased. “Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me.” She huffed and sat up straighter to look down at you.

“Need-” A moan interrupted her as you began to rub her clit. It was such a beautiful sound that made your clit throb. “Need your fingers.” She added a pout and gave you her best puppy dog eyes she could muster; you chuckled and applied more pressure.

“My fingers?” You questioned with a confused tilt of your head. “You have my fingers. I’m touching you right now. Is this not enough?” You were being mean. You knew it was hard for her to form words when she got like this. But you would give it to her. All she had to do was say it.

“Inside,” she groaned, her hips became frantic. “Need your fingers inside. Need to cum all over them.” Bingo. There it was. Usually, it took her longer, but she must be desperate for release. With how busy it has been, you haven’t had time for this.

“Good girl,” you praised. She was wet enough to slip two fingers inside her easily. She gasped at the sudden feeling; her hands gripped both your shoulders, and her eyes rolled back. “So wet and warm, baby,” you moaned and pushed her shirt up. “Come on, little bat,” you encouraged. “Take what you need.” She did, and damn, it was a sight to behold.

Kate rode your fingers with a fierce determination to get herself off. She was gorgeous, and you counted yourself to see her like this. Her pussy squeezed your fingers, and the smell of her arousal mixed with her moans and the blood loss was bringing you embarrassingly close without being touched. Ignoring the ache in your wrist, you leaned forward and swirled your tongue around her nipple. You smirked at the gasp.

She was close. All these months together with Kate, you knew her tells. Her hips would begin to stutter and lose their rhythm. She became more vocal. Your girlfriend wasn’t loud during sex, but it always excited you when you could pull a loud moan from her. The final tell was her eyes. The blue of eyes darkened, almost black. It was intoxicating that you were the one giving her this pleasure. She wore your shirt. She fed on your blood. Your fingers were going to make her cum.

“Close,” she moaned. “‘M so fucking close. I need-”

“Take it, baby,” you encouraged. “Take whatever you need.” You expected her to push your hand closer to her so your palm would be against her clit, or she wanted you to kiss her. Instead, she leaned forward and sunk her teeth into your neck.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned and used your free hand to lite Kate up slightly. The sound was obscene. Your fingers moved faster. You felt her witness drip down your hand. “Cum for me, baby, please,” you pleaded. Her body went ridged against you, and you felt the coil snap deep in the pit of your stomach. You kept your fingers moving to help ride out her high and only stopped when she slumped against you. Her teeth released from your neck, and her nose nuzzled against you. Her breath tickled you. “I’m going to pull my fingers out, okay?” You felt her nod. Removing them slowly, you cooed softly as she hissed from the overestimation. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she mumbled. Sleepy.” You chuckled and kept her against your chest as you moved to lay follow on the couch. Slowly, you removed the ponytail from her hair and brushed the strands with your fingers. A list of things ran through your mind. You wanted to draw Kate a bath, let Lucky out, and eat something for yourself. Helen would give you a juice box and an orange when you had donated blood.

“Baby,” you hummed, so Kate knew you heard her. She moved so her chin rested on your chest. Her eyes were back to their normal blue—your favorite color. They were like diamonds—calm but bold, warm but cold. They were windows to her soul, and her gaze felt like home. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Always,” you smiled. “I love you, my little bat. Now and forever.”

[bunni-v1]

hii, congratulations on 500 followers 🎊

May I request a full nsfw alphabet for azul ashengrotto please?

🍓Huzzah, Azul is done. I think I only have three more of these, and then I'm done with them. I'm planning on writing more for Lighter though, so... lord knows when I'll refocus lol. I just... I love he.

Azul NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare: This can go one of two ways: Azul pampers you or you pamper Azul. He wants nothing more in the whole world than to ensure that you are comfortable, happy, and satisfied. He will wipe you down, draw you a bath, wash your hair, and give you a whole spa treatment if you let him. He wraps you up in fluffy towels and gives you his softest set of pajamas, that is when he has the energy to do that. Usually, Azul is so worn out that he can’t pamper you like the queen you are, and you’re the one doing all that for him. The only exception is when he’s in his mer form… he uses considerably less energy to satisfy both of your needs like that, let's just say.

B = Body Part: He’s a thigh guy, you can just tell from that stupid little smirk. Legs are so annoying, they’re clunky and they move oddly; he hates them. That is until he saw yours. Suddenly he gets the appeal. They’re truly captivating, you know? They can be so graceful on the right person. As for himself, I think he’d probably say something like his hands or his face. He uses his hands a lot, to write contracts, make food, use magic, etc.. They’re useful, and you seem to enjoy them a lot when he uses them on you. With his face, he knows he’s handsome and charming, it’s one of his biggest weapons so of course he’s a fan of it.

C = Cum: Azul is very conservative, I feel. It’s either inside or nothing. He just thinks it’s kind of gross, I mean, seriously he doesn’t want to stain his nice satin sheets. Also, uhm, why would he waste his seed when it could be put to proper use? Before you ask, yes, he scoops up any that manages to slip out and pushes it back in. As for color, I imagine it’s much darker in color than humans, more of a grey/blue color and it’s rather sweet tasting. If you ask him nicely, he might let you eat it up.

D = Dirty Secret: Maybe not a secret, but he wants to knock you up sooooo bad. He’s fully aware it’s irresponsible, you’re both college students with lives ahead of you, but imagining you with his kids makes him a little more than irrational. He’d NEVER let it happen though, always ensuring you’ve taken the morning-after pill or your birth control if you have it. He’s not ready to be a father until he’s got his business ventures settled. (In a few years after you graduate though? Lol, good luck with this guy.)

E = Experience: NONE! Azul has zero experience and it shows. He’s super clumsy the first time, and everything makes him blush. He cums putting it in and he cries about it too. You can’t blame him though, he’s kind of a super loner. It’s not like he’d ever let anyone close enough to sleep with him in the first place, so be gentle with him. He definitely gets way better as he learns what you like. You come across him studying human sexual anatomy a few times, and even though he’s embarrassed, thinking about it like classwork helps calm his nerves. 

F = Favorite Position: If he’s topping, probably missionary – unless you’re fucking his mer form, then he pretty much pulls you around however he likes. Weirdly, he likes holding you upside down while he pumps his tentacles inside you. He thinks you won’t be able to hurt him that way (you weren’t gonna hurt him period, but instinct wins ig).  When you’re topping, cowgirl all the way, please. Loves watching you bounce, it’s so satisfying.

G = Goofy: I don’t see him as goofy during, not intentionally, at least. He’s playful sure, enjoying teasing you for your reactions, but he’s not really jokey. He doesn’t think sex is the time to mess around and poke fun at each other. It’s intimate and vulnerable, so he’d rather not crack jokes if he can.

H = Hair: Rest assured that Azul is wonderfully groomed. Sometimes he shaves it clean down there, other times he keeps a little white tuft of hair, but it’s always nice and presentable.

I = Intimacy: Oh Azul is so sweet. He holds you close and whispers in your ear about how happy he is, how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you. It’s a very vulnerable time, and when Azul is so flooded with pleasure, he tends to lose himself to it. He wants the same reassurance from you, of course, especially when you’re the one in charge. Be sure to whisper sweet nothings to make him feel good.

J = Jack Off: He doesn’t like masturbating, like, at all. It’s such an annoying task and it’s so messy, so he avoids it at all costs. The only time he’ll try it is if you ask to watch him, and he expects a nice reward afterward too. Other than that? Why would he do anything like that when he has you to help?

K = Kink: So other than the established breeding kink, I think Azul is pretty vanilla. He’s not into restraints usually. Other than in his mer form, where he can easily twist and bend and hold you where he likes. He’s not all that into marking, finds it more embarrassing than anything. One thing he is into is size difference – specifically when he’s in his mer form you are dwarfed by him. You’re so small and malleable and cute, especially when you whine that you can’t handle it anymore.

L = Location: His bedroom is a fan favorite. It’s quiet and private, and no one can bother either of you. He’d rather no one be able to see either of you in such an intimate position, especially not Floyd or Jade. You can, however, convince him to let you have sex in his office. The door is lockable and there are no widows, and the room is soundproof. The only issue is Jade has a key (NOT Floyd), and you could still get caught, but the risk is… kind of thrilling. (Jade would 100% do it on purpose too).

M = Motivation: Seeing your legs is a big one for him. He could stare at them all day if allowed, the way they move, and sevens if he could touch them it would be way better. Wearing stockings or particularly short shorts and skirts also kills him. Alternatively, arguing with him (in a playful way) is a surefire way to get him riled up. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much, he just gets a thrill when you’re both poking each other's buttons.

N = No: Absolutely nothing public, he hates the idea of being watched. On top of that, no filming or pictures of either of you. He doesn’t want them to accidentally get out and be used as blackmail against him. Also no degradation, please. He’s sensitive, he will cry and it will ruin the mood, so don’t hurt him like that. Oh, no sharing either. He’s not a big fan of sharing his loved one’s attention, especially not in this context.

O = Oral: Listen Azul might be bad in bed to start, but he’s amazing at eating you out. It’s the one thing that he just got immediately, and that isn’t a commentary on him liking food or anything, he’s just fucking talented with his tongue. Like, mind-blowingly good at manipulating it in ways that will have your eyes rolling.

P = Pace: Azul always tries to take his time with things, so he’s very slow and sensual. He prefers deep and precise thrusts over aggressive and fast ones because he likes to feel everything. Sometimes he closes his eyes just to get lost in that sensation. However, as he gets closer and closer to cumming he gets a little sloppy. He misses his rhythm more and more until he stutters his hips and pushes aaaalllllllllll the way in.

Q = Quickie: Not a big fan of them, honestly. Like I said, he prefers to take his time and really feel everything, so quickies are just not his forte. Not to say he’s against them, he absolutely has indulged you in his office really quick between clients, but he just doesn’t prefer them.

R = Risk: He does not like risk, which makes him way too anxious and he performs way worse than he normally does. He doesn’t want to be seen in an intimate position with you like that, and he’s not all that up to experiment out of his comfort zone either. He knows what he likes, and it’s highly unlikely you surprise him.

S = Stamina: He doesn’t have a lot of stamina for himself, which is why he takes a nice long time with foreplay. He enjoys seeing you cum a few times before the main event, mostly because he can only cum once before he’s done. Though, in his mer form this isn’t the case. He can go for multiple rounds non-stop if you want, he just usually doesn’t because that’s not exactly healthy for a human to go through.

T = Toys: I don’t think he has many toys for you, because why would you need them when you have him? He can do more than any of them even could. He takes extra offense to tentacle-shaped toys, do you think he’s a joke? Besides, he knows how much more you like his tentacles so why would you waste time with silicone when you have a much nicer alternative?

U = Unfair: Believe it or not, Azul isn’t unfair at all. He’s not that big of a tease, though sometimes he comes off that way, and he certainly won’t make you beg for your own pleasure. It’s his job to make you feel good, withholding that is a failure to uphold his side of the bargain. He can’t have that. Now if you tease him a little he wouldn’t be opposed, just… when he tells you to stop, please stop. 

V = Volume: Azul is very whiny. He tries his best to bite back his noises, but he always makes them, and he makes a lot of them. Usually, it’s little squeaks and sighs of pleasure, but sometimes when he’s really far gone, he makes these delicious drawn-out moans that would make a porn star blush. He would like it if you were vocal as well, mostly to drown out his shame a little lol.

W = Wild Card: Azul would absolutely love to eat a full meal off you one day. Like, appetizers, main course, and you for dessert type shit. As much as he tries to hide it, he loves food so much, and I know he would love to combine it with you. So, eating food off of you is a bigggggg thing he wants to do someday. (He would never voice this, and would take it to his grave.)

X = X-Ray: Azul’s member is the strongest out of the Octinivelle trio, purely because it’s just not human looking even in human form. Jade and Floyd at least have human-like penises, but Azul… not so much. It’s wide, on the shorter side about 4 inches, and black in color. It resembles a tentacle but retains the human penile structure. It’s the same in his mer-form, so its easy to assume his penis just isn’t affected in the transformation.

Y = Yearning: Azul’s sex drive is about average, but he doesn’t usually act upon it. He likes to have sex maybe once a week, but with his schedule, even that can be difficult. He’s very good at ignoring his needs when he needs to, so a lot of the time you’ll have to be the one to initiate and tell him to do something about his yearning problem. Z = Zzz: He falls asleep pretty quickly depending on how long everything took. He likes to stay up and care for you and himself a bit, but he’s still quick to fall asleep when everything is in order. He just doesn’t have that much energy, poor thing.

[koiiiji]

I love your writing! I will continue to support you😭🫶🏻🫶🏻Can you write hyeok kwon x reader nsfw?

nsfw alphabet

author's note ; THANK UUUU💌!! i haven’t really following wb hashtag lately, so im sorry if someone already did nsfw alphabet with Kwon Hyuk

author's note 2 ; MDNI, AGELESS BLOG DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Hyuk is sleeeeeeeeepy. after sex you need to push him to the shower, so he won't fall asleep all naked and sweaty (but let's be honest, sometimes it happens too...). but usually after shower he likes to get in comfortable, close position and snuggle into your body and blankets to slowly fall asleep with small sex talk (i think he likes to hear your prises after sex, like did he do a good job? (ofc he did)).

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

i think he appreciates his arms and hands! he knows that he has some strength and likes when you can grip on to his biceps in the heat of the moment. i mean he knows how to work his hands.

as for you, he truthfully loves every part of you. if you ever asked him 'what part of me is your favorite?' he would actually say boobs. he likes resting on them.

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

i don't think Hyuk is particularly keen on making a mess, especially of the bed. i truthfully think he'd surprisingly enjoy cumming on your face, mainly around your lips. messy oral? he's done for.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i honestly have no idea what to put here, because Hyuk is quite lazy and not really kinky... but maybe he would like to try some role games?... sex in cosplay costumes maybe?... like to see you in cute bunny or kitty costume with ears and tail? maybe?

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is pretty experienced. he watched a lot of porn — different kinds, from home to most trivial ph shit. don't forget that Hyuk and Wooin are friends since high school and this fact alone allows to think that these gremlins been through some experience. so don't worry, he knows how to use his fingers and dick!

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

so, i think something simple like missionary where he can stare into your eyes, kiss you, tell you sweet things, etc. his ultimate choice is on the side, when he can hold your leg and slowly fuck you from behind. cowgirl can work too if he is extremely lazy today.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

can't help but be clumsy sometimes. he can't help but giggle when hair gets caught in your mouth or some other silly thing. however, he likes to keep things intimate and prefers to have a serious moment with you in bed

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

clean shaved or well trimmed. i think he finds it more aesthetically attractive and just likes to keep his higiene be that way.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

calm, can joke sometimes if it's appropriate of course. but mostly he is completely immersed into the process — kissing, cuddling, holding your body, tease, whisper sweet nothings into your ear

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Hyuk is super chill about...everything. if he needs it right now he will do it. he doesn't see anything wrong with it honestly

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay so...i think vanilla. when you're getting to know him and for the first few times you have sex, he keeps it simple. but with time he can go more and more sweet and even romantic. however, i think Hyuk have his kinkier side!! i think he really enjoys mocking you. like 'so wet for me already? greedy girl' and other dirty talk.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom! he is super lazy and if he had opportunity he would stay in bed all day (and this is canon i think, still it been stated in wb that he is lazy and likes his bed too much)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you all domestic, in his oversized clothes, just woke up standing in the kitchen, hair is messed and eyes are still sleepy. he really likes slow morning sex on the kitchen!!

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

bringing other people to your bedroom. and really weird stuff like peeing or something like that

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

mmm 50/50 with giving. i don't think he have a great skills. like he surely can go down on you, but Hyuk is not super skilled and his tongue and jaw get tired quite fast. but he is not pushing you to give oral to him either.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on his mood. he can get really fast when he's feeling extra needy or kinky. however, when usually Hyuk will take his sweet time teasing you and go nice and slow with his thrusts, movements, touches. but there are time where he could also use slowness to his advantage and tease you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

nope. i think he consider it as unnecessary splash of energy, he would rather wait until you two have a mood for proper sex. and he likes resting in bed and generally are lazy so it's no.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

uuuh, he definitely wanted to try few places like changing rooms, or maybe friend's place, but just out of curiosity, he probably won't like it, so his preference is bedroom (read 'because he fall asleep almost immediately')

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

i don't think he has very high stamina. it's not that he gets really sleepy after, but he can't go for multiple rounds. i think Hyuk doesn't really understand the point of few rounds if you two already had great time. like he can go two rounds if you insist or it's been a long time since he's seen you. he can last a while though, i think. but dont expect him to be sex machine, he is super lazy.

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

most of the time he is indifferent about such things. if that means it will bring you extra pleasure, he don't mind.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

ohh he likes to tease!! both with words and actions! he likes to tease you through your panties with his slander fingers, he likes to tease your clenching pussy after he spent some time with his fingers ther. he likes to give you playful bites, slapping, literally everything!! he loves teasing so so much

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

keeps quiet, mostly. some interjections of grunts and groans, especially when he cums. he uses his voice more for humiliating-sweet talk, when he teases you! he loves hearing your noises, though, and it gives him more encouragement than anything.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

once you woke him by going down on him. he really liked it and secretly want to wake up like this more often, but he is kinda shy to ask this since he doesn't really enjoy doing same to you (as i said, only because he isn't that skilled and get tired fast)

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

i would say average. he is quite slim, vienny, but okay, maybe a little longer than average.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think he has a fluctuating sex drive. during flu and cold season — autumn and winter — he is so clingy, desperate for your body heat, and won't let you escape warm bed, snuggling into your boobs. however, during the summer... just dont touch him. hot weather affects him so much that you hardly receive a hug from him.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

immediately. just few minutes after shower, when you two just cuddling, murmuring soft nothings and you found him not answering you, so you rise your head just to see he already softly snoring in his sleep.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

So uh. I had this super dumb idea and decided to roll with it.

Which I guess is kinda how writing works on the whole but anyway.

Here's the first chapter of a Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB Reader fic that absolutely no one asked for but my brain dumped on me anyway.

Whole first chapter is basically setting the scenario. Bear with me here. I intend for this to be both heartfelt and fcking hilarious in equal measure. As of right now I don't really have plans for it to carry on for more than three or four chapters, but who knows.

Timeline is set to around a decade after Gol D. Roger's death, prior to Mihawk having status as a Warlord of the Sea. He'd be in his late 20s to early 30s (don't ask me to math right now, it's almost five in the morning, I'll be more specific later). So not super-young Mihawk. He definitely already has his silly lil adorable pointy goatee/moustache that we all know and love so very much.

I don't even have a damned title yet. We'll just call it, uh. I don't know. Fucking uh........

Flight Risk

Ch. 1 of who even knows

Next Chapter Link

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No trigger warnings yet, possible future trigger warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Word Count: 3420

Only a few months had passed since you enlisted with the Marines, and nothing seemed to be going right. You were clumsy with both melee and ranged weapons, not particularly strong physically, and while you had improved through training you weren’t learning at nearly the same rate as the other recruits. It was no help at all that your somehow borderline useless devil fruit abilities had somehow been exposed and you were now the target of constant torment from other cadets, and even some superior officers.

You almost wanted to give up entirely.

You spent most of your free time hiding away from your peers at an old dock on the base to avoid the teasing. It was here you say now, arms wrapped around your knees and glaring out toward the setting sun after another day of being squawked at and offered crackers. All because you had taken a stupid dare from a stupid friend when you were six years old and eaten that stupid fruit.

You let out a heavy sigh at the sound of footsteps behind you, certain that one of your tormentors had discovered your hiding spot.

“Really not in the mood,” you said aloud, not bothering to look over your shoulder. “I’m sure it’s just as much fun talking about me behind my back—”

But instead, a commanding voice that made your breath catch in your throat and your eyes grow wide as saucers answered. You recognized it as its owner spoke your name aloud—anyone on base would have recognized it. You quickly scrambled to your feet and turned around to face Bogard with your hand raised in a salute, trying to keep your knees from shaking.

“S—sorry, sir, I—” He just held up a hand to stop you, and your mouth snapped shut immediately. His own mouth remained turned down in his usual characteristic frown, and after a moment he let out a vaguely frustrated sigh.

“Vice Admiral Garp requires your presence. Please follow me.”

You remained glued to the spot for a moment even as he turned on his heel and began to stride away. Garp and Bogard had shown up at the base a week ago on some business from headquarters that was being kept quiet around the rest of the base. You quickly forced yourself to follow after Bogard, your stomach in knots as you jogged to catch up to his long strides.

He didn’t speak again until you were outside the door of the office the vice admiral was occupying, turning to face you with his arms crossed. You quickly saluted again, your eyes still wide, burning the slightest bit—you were fairly sure you hadn’t blinked a single time since he had first addressed you.

“At ease, cadet.” You swallowed, lowering your hand and folding it behind your back with your other. “The vice admiral has some questions for you,” he said in brief explanation, opening the door. “Come.” You flinched as you followed him in, Garp’s booming voice meeting your ears as he shouted at someone through the den den mushi on his desk. It was clear he wasn’t in a good mood.

“Again?” he was saying, pacing behind the desk. “Yeah, I got it. Why do you think I’m at this shithole of a—” He gave a growl of annoyance, his grip tightening around the speaker. “Yes, Fleet Admiral. I think if I could manage to capture Roger, I can handle some brat calling himself the World’s Stronge—”  He closed his eyes tightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’m well aware of the threat. Doesn’t make him any less of a brat. With all due respect, sir, I know what I’m doing, Yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah. Understood.”

He dropped the handset back onto the den den mushi, sitting heavily in his chair behind the desk, strumming his fingers on the arm for a moment impatiently.

You felt as if you might pass out any second as you stood in front of the desk, trying to keep yourself still but still fidgeting slightly as your nervousness evolved toward something more like abject terror. There was no way this was about anything good. The vice admiral was here on orders handed down directly from his own superiors at Marine Headquarters. Vice Admiral Garp, recognized the world over as the hero of the Marines, the man that had brought Gold Roger to justice barely a decade ago.

An officer of his status wouldn’t waste his time with a lowly cadet like yourself unless the situation was incredibly dire.

When he finally lifted his eyes to look at you, you sprang immediately into a salute, and it was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling. He glanced at Bogard, standing off to the side and idly flipping through a book on one of the shelves along the right side of the office walls. “This the one?” asked Garp.

“It would seem so,” he affirmed.”

“Good.” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering over you. “At ease, cadet.”

Once more you folded your hands behind your back—though in literal terms, you were anything but at ease. Your face flushed and your legs visibly shaking at this point, it was all you could do to keep your eyes on his.

The vice admiral gave a small snort of amusement at your nervous state as he picked up a folder from his desk—a folder with your name written on the tab.

“Calm down, you’re not in any trouble,” he said. You still swallowed nervously, your mouth turning down ina  slight frown. He read your name out loud at the top of the file before going on. “Says here your old man was a Lieutenant. Died in the line of duty among a fleet that took on a division of the Whitebeard pirates.”

“Y—yes, sir,” you said, giving a short nod when he glanced at you from over the top of the folder. “He’s the reason I enlisted.”

“Revenge?” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

“No, sir,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I looked up to him. He wanted to make the world a better place. Safer. That’s...why I enlisted.”

He nodded slowly, observing you for a long moment as he seemed to mull over your answer. “Good to hear,” he said finally, lowering his eyes back down to what you could only assume was your enlistment paperwork. “Revenge is thankless work. Your old man was a damned good Marine. Honorable. Sounds like the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.” You relaxed the slightest bit in the approval at his tone—it was perhaps the first compliment you had gotten from any of your superiors. “Unfortunately, we’re not here to reminisce. This is official business. And confidential.” He set the folder down on his desk, still open, meeting your eyes again. “I’ll need your word right now that you won’t repeat anything we discuss here to anyone.”

Your eyes widened a little, and you nodded quickly. :Of course, Vice Admiral,” you said immediately, your heart hammering in your chest.

He nodded slowly himself, picking up a lowball glass of what appeared to be whiskey from his desk. He gestured with his free hand to the chair across from him. “Then have a seat. We could be here awhile.”

You glanced at the chair behind you, and took a few steps backwards, folding your hands in your lap. You couldn’t begin to imagine what sort of official business he might have with you. You were a new recruit, tended to blend into the background—at least you had, until word had gotten out about….

Your stomach dropped at Garp’s next sentence.

“I understand you’re a devil fruit user?”

“I…am,” you said slowly, almost cautiously. You had received nothing but jeering and taunting for your ability, even before you enlisted. “It’s…not exactly a useful ability, though.”

“You don’t think so?” he said, with a hint of a smirk, and you shook your head, your eyes dropping down to your knees. “‘Omu Omu no Mi,’” he read off from the file. “‘Zoan type devil fruit. Gray parrot.’ You’ve had the ability for…fifteen years?” You nodded shortly, your brow still furrowed in your growing confusion. “You can’t think of any application where that would be useful?”

Your remained silent for some time, wondering if it was a trick question, some sort of joke at your expense. Sure the vice admiral wouldn’t waste his time calling you here for the sake of a joke. After a moment, you shook your head, lifting your gaze, grimacing a little. “It’s, uh…been more of a burden than anything, honestly,” you admitted.

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Your brow furrowed a bit, and he gestured over to Bogard, still leaning against the bookshelf off to the side. “I’ve had Bogard here keeping an eye on you since we got here.”

That was incredibly surprising news to you. You glanced at Bogard yourself. You had seen him around the base a few times, but it had seemed to be only in passing. While you were still rendered speechless at the claim, Garp when on.

“I read in your file that your mother’s an…ornithologist?” he said, glancing down at the folder once more. Your brow remained furrowed as you nodded slowly, trying to wrap your head around where this could be going. “So I’d guess you have a pretty good understanding of birds. How they behave, interact with humans?”

“I—”

“With all due respect, Garp…” Both you and Garp glanced over at Bogard at his interruption. He lowered the book he had been flipping through, his frown deepening. “This is still the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“Give me a better idea, then.” After a moment, Bogard rolled his eyes, lifting the book again, still looking quite disgruntled with the situation—whatever the situation was. Garp turned his attention back to you, gesturing with a wave of his hand for you to continue.

“I-I…did learn a lot from her,” you affirmed. “She specializes in parrots and corvids. She runs a veterinary practice and rescue service for them in the East Blue.”

“Think you’d be able fool people into believing you’re the real thing?”

“Wh…wha…”

You felt like you were trapped in some strange fever dream you couldn’t wake from. Garp raised his eyebrows as he waited for your response, as you frowned, struggling to collect your thoughts into something organized enough to allow you to speak.

“I…used to prank my mom into thinking I was one of the birds in our aviary,” you admitted, almost sheepishly.

Garp let out a hearty laugh at that, his smirk spreading into a grin. “Well, if you could fool an expert, then I guess you could fool damn near anyone, huh?” You blinked rapidly as he leaned forward, crossing his arms over the desk. “So. How much do you know about a pirate by the name of Dracule Mihawk?”

Your breath caught as you froze in place, your blood running cold.

There was no Marine, likely no one in the world, that didn’t know that name. It wasn’t long after the execution of Gold Roger that he had begun making the headlines, and not for anything good. Even as a rookie he had quickly gained a reputation for being ruthless and deadly, slaughtering pirates and Marines alike with seemingly no distinction between the two. For a few years now he had gained notoriety for being considered by many to be the world’s most powerful swordsman. You had heard stories of him singlehandedly destroying entire Marine warships without batting an eye.

The man was practically a living nightmare for any Marine.

“I…I’ve heard of him,” you managed to force out weakly.

Garp scoffed at that, taking a sip from his whiskey. “Who the hell hasn’t?” he said. “Especially among us. He’s been responsible for the deaths of more Marines over the past few years than any other pirate sailing the Grand Line. And completely on his own. No crew.” He shook his head, giving another scoff. “Almost no one we’ve sent after the bastard comes back alive. Except, of course, those he lets go willingly to tell us he’ll continue to slaughter anyone that challenges him. It’s a problem we can’t ignore.”

You swallowed, the rising tension in you rendering you as stiff as a statue. You could sense where this was going…and you didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m thinking a different approach could be out best bet in taking care of the problem. Something a little more subtle.” You nodded slowly to indicate you were following what he was saying—what he was suggesting. “I’m sure you don’t want to see any more Marines die at the hands to this monster any more than I do. Am I right?”

Of course he was right—you knew it as well as Garp did. Your father had been enough. Knowing that there were so many other Marines, other men and women that might leave behind broken families, losing their lives at the hands of such a ruthless killer…it sickened you to your core.

Once more, you nodded.

“Then we’re on the same page,” he said. He leaned back in his chair for a moment, taking a sip from his glass, before he set it down and stood up. “You say you think your devil fruit ability is useless. I say it could be exactly what we need.”

“Y…you want me to use my devil fruit to…” He paced slowly behind his desk, his eyes remaining on you, waiting for you to say it. “T…to take down…him?”

“Not…quite,” he said. “Like I said, different approach I want you to use your devil fruit ability against him. But not to take him down. I think you’re probably smart enough to know that you wouldn’t stand a chance in combat against him.” You swallowed, giving a short nod in agreement. “What we really need at this point is information. Any potential weakness that he might possess. Your ability isn’t useless, but it is…unassuming. You could spy on almost anyone you wanted without them knowing. And hey, let’s face it—pirates like parrots.”

You heard Bogard sigh heavily at this statement, and you couldn’t help but agree with his wordless disapproval. Pirates like parrots was a pretty broad generalization to make regarding such a dire situation.

“Look,” Garp said as your brow furrowed once more. He stepped out from behind his desk, slowly circling your chair. “Parrots are smart birds, right?” You nodded. “And they tend to bond pretty easily with humans?” Another nod, your eyes following him as he came around the other side of your chair, stopping right in front of you and leaning back against his desk. “You could get close to him without him having any idea you’re anything but a friendly, intelligent bird.”

“or he could consider her a pest and kill her,” said Bogard dryly—voicing the exact concern that was already forming in your own head.

Garp rolled his eyes. “One, there haven’t been any reports that he makes a habit of killing animals. Two, you’d be a bird. You can fly. He can’t.”

“He can split entire ships in half from at least a hundred yards,” Bogard pointed out.

“Yeah, he can,” agreed Garp—and his confirmation of this claim did absolutely nothing to help your resolve. “But why bother killing a bird that’s already flying away? He’s killing Marines to send a message that we can’t touch him. He’s killing pirates so his competition knows they can’t touch him. What’s he going to kill a goddamned parrot for?” Another sigh came from Bogard—it seemed as if the man had been through this exact same argument before. “Worst case scenario,” Garp continued, “you fly off to safety and consider it a failed mission. No black mark on your record, brownie points for even attempting it. Best case…” He crossed his arms, his mouth spreading into a grin. “You get close to a pirate no one has been able to touch for years, and return with commendation and respect from the entire Navy. Show all these recruits that have been laughing at your abilities that you’re a hell of a lot more useful than any of them.”

You bit your lip, your eyes darting off to the side. You didn’t consider yourself vain…but you had spent fifteen years considering your devil fruit completely useless. Now you had a Marine vice admiral, a man regarded by much of the world as a hero, telling you that you could potentially use your power to save the lives of countless people. It was the exact reason your father told you he had enlisted—to protect innocent lives, to make the world safer.

“I…I’m not much of a fighter,” you said finally. “If he were to figure out that I’m a human…a Marine, I…”

“You’d receive special training before the mission,” said Garp. “Enough to give you a fighting chance at escaping if you had to. Given what we know about Dracule Mihawk, it would still be dangerous, of course. But you’d still stand a better chance alone at gathering intel than an entire fleet of ships would stand facing him in combat. As it stands now,” he said, his expression shifting into a scowl, “there are several high ranking Marine officers that believe the only chance of dealing with him is offering him status as a Warlord. There’s still a problem with that, considering no one can get close enough to him to propose the offer. If nothing else, you could get close enough to do that.”

“Which would likely be the best course of action,” Bogard interjected.

And Garp ignored him.\

“I propose,” said Garp, “that you keep an eye on him for a month. Get as close as you safely can. Search for any potential weakness we could exploit, and report back. If there aren’t any,” he said, tossing a sharp glance at Bogard, before leveling his gaze with yours again, “then you go back with the paperwork in your pocket and propose the offer.”

And possibly be killed the moment you revealed who you were—what you were. That detail remained unspoken, but you had no doubt that both Garp and Bogard had already considered the possibility, if you were already thinking about it yourself.

You could be killed. In the blink of an eye. Without any warning. You could die attempting thing. It was almost insane to even consider what Garp was proposing.

But you couldn’t ignore the possibility that it could work. That it could save countless lives from ending.

Save countless families from the same grief you and your mother had endured.

You pulled in a slow, deep breath, lifting your eyes and meeting Garp’s.

And you nodded.

“I’ll do it.” His eyebrows shot up at your acceptance. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

His surprised expression slowly split into a grin.

“You’re under no obligation to accept.” You turned your head as Bogard snapped his book shut, leveling his dark eyes with yours. Garp was already chuckling to himself, but Bogard’s expression remained grave as he went on. “You’re aware of the risk, I’m sure. The pirate in question has killed thousands of Marines to date, and I wish that was an exaggeration. This could very well be a suicide mission. If you’re doing this for recognition, I suggest you walk out of this office and forget every detail of this conversation.”

“I don’t care about recognition.” You shook your head as Bogard continued to regard you with a frown, lifting an eyebrow; as Garp tossed a glance at him that very clearly said told you so. “And I know the risk.I know I could die.” He crossed his arms, waiting for you to continue. You swallowed, going on quietly, “But…if it succeeds, then it could stop thousands of others from dying.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, straightening your back in the chair. “That’s all I care about.”

Though Bogard didn’t look entirely convinced, he wasn’t given any further opportunity to protest, as Garp let out a laugh. “You heard the girl, Bogard,” he said, reaching behind him and picking up the receiver from the den den mushi on the desk once more. “I say it’s time to get the ball rolling and finally give this madman a run for his money.”

Next Chapter Link again, for your convenience

[itsjusthockey]

Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy

Smooth - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)

I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out

Much longer than expected, whoops

w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)

You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.

“Babe, Babe! Look.”

You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.

He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.

“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”

You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”

As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.

“Looks kinda good.”

You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”

Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.

“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”

Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.

“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”

This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.

“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”

You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.

Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.

It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.

You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.

You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.

As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.

When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.

As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.

Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.

You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.

“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.

“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”

You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.

Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.

“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”

You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.

You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.

“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.

You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.

You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.

Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.

“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”

Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.

Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.

You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”

You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.

“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”

His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, J.”

You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.

“You okay? Tired?”

He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.

"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”

Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”

He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.

“Gross.”

He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.

“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.

He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.

“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."

He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.

“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.

“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”

Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.

“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”

[sissylittlefeather]

I Got My Mojo Working (but it just won't work on you)

A/N: This is a completely random one shot that just showed up in my brain and wouldn't go away until I wrote it. It was super fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut (oral sex, p in v sex), also talk of demons and hell, reader is a succubus (but not like a mean one lol)

Word count: ~1.5k

“Ah, fuck!”

A hard thud accompanies the exclamation and Elvis sits straight up in bed. He blinks a few times trying to let his eyes get adjusted to the darkness. When he can finally see around the room, he looks down at the floor where you're lying flat on your face with the moonlight shining on your hair. You groan and start to stand up gingerly touching your horns to make sure they're still where they belong.

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” He asks. His voice is all honey-smooth and you kind of melt despite yourself.

“No! Um, wait.” You try to arrange yourself into a seductive pose, your silky black robe slipping off your shoulder to reveal your red satin nightie trimmed with black lace. Lowering your voice to a husky whisper, you continue. “Just lay back and enjoy it.”

You start to walk towards him slowly, swinging your hips and trailing your fingers down your chest. His eyebrows shoot straight up and you're pretty sure you're on the right track when you step on your own tail, trip, and catch yourself just barely on the side of the bed. “Shit! Fuck!”

Elvis gives you a twinkly-eyed smirk as he tries to suppress his laughter.

“That wasn't supposed to happen. Pretend it didn't.” You stand up and try to go back to your sexy pose, but you really just look like you need to go to the bathroom.

“Darlin’ whatever you're doin’ ain't workin’.” He chuckles.

You groan and drop your hands to your sides. “Okay, just let me… okay?”

He holds back another laugh and nods, trying to be serious and gesturing to you. “You go right on ahead, honey.”

“Thank you.” You take a deep breath and close your eyes. As you do, he looks up and down your body in the sexy little nightie. When you open your eyes, he has his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and it almost undoes you completely.

You move your hands around in what you hope is a sexy gesture and slide your robe further down your shoulders. He notices your tail and starts to put two and two together as you attempt to dance seductively.

“You're a succubus!” He hollers. You stop dancing and sigh in exasperation.

“Yes. And I'm trying to seduce you. So will you just… y’know… let me?” His lips curl into a smile and he nods as you resume your awkward movements.

“Sure, honey. But you might be the worst demon I've ever seen.” You stop and glare at him, your hands on your hips.

“Seen a lot of demons, have you?”

“No, but I'd imagine this usually goes a little more smoothly.” You stomp over to the bed, damn near twisting your ankle when you slip off of your heel, and plop down on the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah. I'm not very good, am I?” He watches the way your face falls and you look down at your hands in your lap.

“Oh, I dunno, I was enjoying it.” You look up at him suddenly.

“You were?!” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I was.” You sit for a second just looking at each other. “Come up here.”

He pats the bed next to him and you bite your fingernail. This isn't exactly how this is supposed to go, but it's been a long time since someone has acted like they appreciated your company. Most of the time it’s like your awkward clumsiness is the worst sin under the sun.

You kick off your shoes and crawl across the bed, accidentally crushing his shin and hitting him in the face with your tail.

“Sorry! Shit. I'm sorry.” You grab your tail and move it back out of the way. He just laughs. It's the first natural, genuine laugh he's experienced in a long time. He's been back to performing for a couple years now and the shine is starting to wear off. His wife is gone, but nobody knows, and he's tired of this big lonely house, even when he fills it with people. Honestly, you're a welcome change.

You sit next to him in the bed, your shoulder touching his, and sigh deeply. It's nice to just sit with someone. He wraps his arm around you and pulls your head against his chest, poking him first with your horn. Eventually, though, you're able to settle on him comfortably.

“I like this.” You whisper as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Me too.” He kisses the top of your head and squeezes you gently. You look up at him and he's so close to you that you could count his individual eyelashes if you really wanted to. His hair is long and shaggy and he keeps looking at your mouth.

“Do you get… credit… or whatever if we, um, if we have sex? Like do you have to steal my soul or something for it to count?” He asks quietly, his eyes still fixated on your lips.

“I think I could call this a win if we… y’know–” He doesn't wait another second to lean in and press his lips to yours. They're soft and warm and you melt into his kiss like you've never been kissed before. His tongue presses into your mouth and you make out for a while as the heat between you grows and his hands begin to wander. Without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, and grind on his cock where it strains against his pajama bottoms. He pulls back from the kiss breathing heavily.

“Wait. Are you… normal? Like, human? Down there?” You giggle at the question, not sure what he's expecting.

“Elvis, my whole existence is fucking. You think I don't have a pussy?” He shrugs and blushes a little. “Why don't you find out?”

You lift off of him and guide his hand in between your legs. He grunts softly when he discovers you aren't wearing panties and then full-out moans when he presses his fingers inside you and feels how tight and wet you are.

“Goddamn, baby.” He looks into your eyes as he pumps his fingers into you and you moan with pleasure. “I need that in my mouth now.”

“Oh! Well okay then.” You whimper as he slides down in the bed and situates his face between your thighs. This never happens since most men are concerned with using you for their own enjoyment. When his tongue makes contact with your clit, you moan loudly and resist the urge to grind down onto him.

“Holy fuck.” You groan as he licks over and around your hardened bud. He pulls back a little and laughs.

“Pretty sure this is the definition of an unholy fuck.”

“Don't stop!” He laughs again and goes back to eating you like you've never been eaten before. Being built for this, you rush towards a climax quickly and start to shake as it approaches.

“Cum for me, little devil.” He almost commands it and your body listens, throwing you over the edge into a bone-rattling orgasm that vibrates across your whole existence.

“Fuck!!” You scream as he licks you through your release, shoving his tongue inside you for good measure. He slides back up and you frantically reach into his pajama pants to free his aching cock. You moan softly when you see how hard he is as he leaks precum onto your thumb. He grunts and you drag the head of his dick through your perfectly wet folds.

“Need to be inside you, baby.” He groans and grabs your hips, pulling you down around him as he pushes up into you. “Oh, fuck.”

He's never felt anything quite like being inside you. It's an earth-shattering experience and he leans his head back against the headboard as you start to move on him.

“God– fuck– shit– I ain't gonna last long at all– fuck.” You giggle at his reaction to you and kiss him deeply on the mouth. The taste of you is still on his lips, but you barely notice as he grabs your hips and starts to thrust up into you powerfully.

You whimper with each driving motion and he hurtles towards the edge of ecstasy recklessly. He slides the straps of your nightie off your shoulders and exposes your breasts, squeezing them gently.

“God, honey, you're gorgeous.”

“I was made for this, Elvis.”

“S’more than that, baby. Fuck.” You feel his body shake as he gets closer and closer to release. “I'm gonna cum.”

You lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Good. Come on, daddy.”

That's all it takes for him to slam into you one last time and tumble into oblivion, shooting you full of the essence you need to survive. You groan as you take it in and feel the pleasure of satisfaction. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close to him as he pants and tries to get his heart rate back to normal.

“Am I condemned to an eternity in hell now?” He whispers and you're not quite sure if he's serious or not.

“Elvis–”

“Because if you're there, it'll be worth it.” You sit up and look into his face. His hand makes its way to the side of your neck and you revel in the warmth of being seen.

“You're not condemned.” He pulls your lips down to his and kisses you gently and you whisper against his mouth. “Wouldn't hate it if you were, though.”

“Me neither, little devil. Me neither.”

You spend the rest of that night wrapped in each other, but when he wakes up in the morning you're gone. He tells himself it must've been just a dream, but it felt so real. And then he finds the note on his bedside table written in lipstick and smudged.

Until next time.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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[eternal-stay]

MILDLY SCREWED

SICKIE⇒CHAN

snowy winter day, late morning, light schedule, it was going to be the perfect day for chan. but when he woke up, he felt wrong.

he could see the snow through his window and his phone showed 11:37, the dorm was- fuck, 11:37. he never slept that late. yet, somehow, he didn’t feel well rested either.

he really didn’t feel like going about his day. dance practice would start in an hour, then he guessed he’d have lunch with 3racha, and lastly they had recording in the afternoon.

it wasn’t much, really, but his motivation to get out of bed was about zero. he was deep in self pity when a loud noise from the kitchen startled him into sitting up.

‘clumsy maknae’, he thought as he heard the familiar sound of a pot clattering to the floor. sighing, he forced himself to stand up and his vision immediately filled with dots. yeah, that was his blood pressure dropping as fast as his mood.

he groaned as the dots finally faded and grabbed grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie and beanie before walking into the kitchen where jeongin was, in fact, glaring at a pot on the floor.

hearing the approaching footsteps, the maknae looked up at him and gasped.

“woah, hyung, you look super pale! like, more than usual”, he said, walking over to chan as the older shrugged.

why did jeongin look so worried? he must look worse than he feels. “i don’t feel bad”, chan told him, “just off”.

jeongin raised an eyebrow at that, “very descriptive, hyung. explain a bit?”. chan chuckled and rolled his eyes, starting the coffee machine.

he noticed that the maknae was ready to go out, shoes on and everything.

“i have no energy”, the leader said, “but like, i slept a lot”. the maknae hummed and crossed his arms as he about it for a moment. “maybe you slept a lot but not well?”.

assuming it was indeed just tiredness, chan nodded, “probably”. after some more light chatter, he went ahead with his morning and made some toasts.

i.n had actually woken up a long while before ago, so when chan sat down with his coffee and toast the boy was already going to leave the dorm. “see you later, grandpa”, he said with a smile that showed his dimples, and left.

as for chan, he spent the next half an hour completely spaced out. he barely registered finishing his breakfast and was only brought back to focus by the chills that had started going through his body.

he groaned, annoyed that the heating wasn’t on, and made his way to the thermostat before stopping on his tracks. oh, so the maknae did turn it on. why was he so cold, then?

chan didn’t bother thinking about it and instead went back to his room since he still had a while until dance practice started. he sat on his bed with a blanket to try and stop the shivering. it didn’t work.

actually, the longer he sat there, the worse he felt. somewhere during the last 10 minutes his head had started to throb. it wasn’t bad, it was barely there, but it was still annoying.

his eyes had started watering too so he put his phone down and dabbed under his eyelashes with his sleeves. what a great fucking morning.

when he felt like he’d silently complained enough, chan reluctantly got out from under his blanket, put his phone, keys, computer and bottle of water in his bag and deemed himself ready to leave the comfort of his room.

he wasn’t ready at all though. the pounding behind his eyes had only grown stronger and when he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw what jeongin had meant when saying he was paler than usual.

he genuinely looked like a ghost. a hot one, but a ghost nonetheless.

chan splashed his face with cold water in hopes of regaining even the slightest bit of colour, but he was unlucky. thinking about it now, there was no denying that he didn’t feel good.

could he stay home today? it might be an option, but the schedule was so light that he doubted he’d be allowed to skip it. plus, he wasn’t sick sick, because he didn’t have a fever.

‘that’s dumb, you don’t need a fever to be sick’ chan thought, but soon forgot about any chances of missing work when his phone rang with the managers number.

oops, he was going to be late, and if the manager had gone as far as calling instead of texting then he definitely couldn’t stay back.

deciding not to waste anymore time dwelling on his discomfort, chan got out of the bathroom, put on some random nikes he found, grabbed a jacket and finally left the dorm.

the cold winter air greeted him mercilessly and he almost called a cab before deciding that the cold wasn’t worth risking getting recognised by the diver and having to have a conversation.

antisocial chan was a rare find, but he came to the surface every once in a while.

it felt like an eternity before he finally reached the company, and by then his teeth were chattering and his body was trembling from the cold. at least, at the very least, he didn’t have a stuffy nose. or a fever, that would be even worse.

luck wasn’t on his side that day because chan ran into more people than he had talked to the whole year, and everyone seemed to have a conversation to strike with him. yes, he was definitely going to be late to practice.

when he finally made it to the practice room, he was greeted by lee know’s glare. “you’re late. very”, the dancer said, but he was quick to let it go when he saw chan’s lack of response and the way his face had less colour than a paper sheet.

the leader himself felt bad for making his members wait, but he found himself not caring that much.

he’d showed up, that felt like enough effort today. quickly dropping his bag to the side, chan walked to the centre of the room and was relieved to see that the others had waited for him before stretching.

“you didn’t take off your jacket”, changbin pointed out when chan sat next to him, “oh- never mind, hyung, you’re shaking. are you okay?”.

the leader caught sight of the worried expression on the rappers face and it made his chest feel warm. he shrugged and said “its freezing out there and i came walking, i feel like an ice cu-”.

“YOU CAME WALKING?? IN THIS WEATHER??”

startled by the yell, both chan and changbin looked up to an amazed han. “hyung, you have superpowers or something”, the youngest member of 3racha said, wincing when he saw chan’s shaky hands, “not very good decision making skills, though”.

chan chuckled mid stretch and argued that “it didn’t feel so bad when i left the dorm”. their discussion halted when minho walked over to the speakers and started looking for a song to dance.

he must’ve caught felix making puppy eyes at him because he chose mountains. that was a fairly easy dance compared to what they had and chan silently thanked god for it.

the rest of practice was uneventful, mostly. they had to learn a dance for one of the next comeback songs and chan struggled more than usual to get the moves down, but it could have been worse.

through the fog that had settled over his brain and the constant waves of pain in his head, the leader didn’t notice lee know’s careful eyes watching him throughout the whole practice.

instead, he was just grateful that the dancer was in a seemingly unprompted forgiving mood and said nothing when he kept making the same mistakes in a row.

of course, minho had a reason to be so patient. all of the members had noticed chan’s low mood today and the way his face lacked colour. the flush on his cheeks made up for the paleness though, but it eased no one’s worries.

moreover, none of them missed the leader’s winces whenever the music’s bass echoed louder in the room or the way he’d quietly sit down next to his water bottle during the breaks. normally, whenever he had trouble with moves, he’d spend the breaks practicing them, but he didn’t today, and they could guess that he didn’t feel the best.

lunch with 3racha passed in a blur for chan. he didn’t pay attention to their conversation at all even if he probably should have and he appreciated the fact that neither changbin nor han forced him to talk.

dance practice had messed up his stomach, maybe he’d drank too much water? whatever it was, he didn’t feel like eating, but changbin didn't let him leave his food untouched.

‘probably for the best’ chan thought ‘it’s not like i have enough energy to just not eat’. yes, his stomach felt kinda bad, but he was thankful that he didn’t feel actually nauseous. maybe it was just sore from so much dancing? most definitely not.

walking to the studio, chan assessed the situation. his head was pounding, his stomach felt sore and the chills that racked through his body hadn’t completely disappeared.

not good, but not too bad. on a scale from 1 to 10, he was mildly screwed.

now that he thought about it, what bothered him the most was the exhaustion that hadn’t let up ever since he woke up. okay, he could deal with being tired.

han grabbing onto his arm pulled him out of his thoughts and he smiled at the rapper. “what’s up?”, chan asked, slightly amused at the gesture. han replied with a soft “nothing”, so the leader just let him be clingy. he was warm anyway, chan welcomed that.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw changbin jokingly pout over ‘not being chosen by han’ and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. could he ever not laugh while he was with 3racha? probably not.

when they got to the studio, he was surprised to see that the equipment was already set up. changbin must’ve caught his confused expression because he giggled. “we were recording han’s song in the morning, hyung”, he told chan in a playful tone, “you’d know if you had listened to us during lunch”.

the leader rolled his eyes and smiled, plopping down on the couch and pulling out his phone before replying “y’all talk too much, i can’t listen to everything”.

at that, han gasped like he was offended and sprawled out on the couch half on top of chan’s legs. “how could you, hyung, you like listening to me talk”, the boy complained, and then bragged, “everyone does, actually”.

the two older boys laughed and chan ruffled han’s hair playfully, which sent the younger on another round of whined complaints even though he had no intention on moving off of chan’s legs, which at some point started to feel numb from the lack of circulation.

“let him breathe, hannie”, a teasing voice said from the door. 3racha looked up to see minho there. “whats with the looks”, the dancer questioned, “wasn’t i first for recording?”.

to be honest, chan had no idea. he hadn’t checked the order at all but minho was responsible enough. if he said he was first, then he probably was.

“sure”, the leader answered, acting like he knew, “you know the lyrics or…?”. lee know seemed to ponder the question for a moment before saying “let me read them again. han can start recording if he wants”.

the truth was, he did know the lyrics, quite well actually since for once they weren’t in english, but he wanted changbin and han to focus on recording so he could check on chan.

and hey, it worked. han left the couch and got into the booth while changbin sat on the producer’s chair, so now lee know had chan all to himself.

“hello, hyung”, he said a little too sweetly, sitting down next to chan on the couch, “how are you feeling?”. he couldn’t help but laugh at the leader’s surprised expression. he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“is it that obvious?”, chan asked quietly, not wanting the other two to hear them, “i don’t even feel that bad”

lee know smiled at him, trying to seem reassuring, “not that obvious, just enough. so?”. chan internally cursed but decided to keep it simple. “my head hurts”, he said, “and i’m cold. freezing actually”. a shiver accompanied his words, giving away just how freezing he waqs.

still, the dancer didn’t look convinced. “you made way too many mistakes earlier to be just that”, minho said, and then winced at his words, “no offence”.

chan fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, feeling bad that he did so bad at practice. surely he had been an inconvenience, but he swore he did as well as he could. “sorry”, he mumbled, “i don’t know. i’m really tired but i don’t have a fever, so i- i don’t know”, he looked at his lap, “my stomach feels bad too”.

lee know frowned, getting kinda worried. he reached up to feel chan’s forehead with the back of his hand and then moved it down to the older’s cheek.

“not a fever”, he agreed, smiling slightly when chan unconsciously closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. “see? i’m f-” chan tried to speak but lee know interrupted him with a firm “yet”.

“what do you mean yet”, chan huffed, maybe a bit childishly if the amused expression that took over minho’s face was anything to go by.

“i mean,” lee know started, dropping his hand from chan’s face and smirking at the sad expression the older made, “that you don’t feel too warm. but you don’t feel cold either and your cheeks are rosy, so lets see how long ‘no fever’ lasts”.

chan glared at him and automatically reached up with both hands to touch his face. “i don’t feel warm”

“yes you do”

“no. i’m not warm”

“yes you are, hottie”

“minho!”

the dancer laughed and stood up. “my turn”, he said, pointing at han that was leaving the recording booth. chan rolled his eyes and moved to sit next to changbin, now frowning.

“what’s with the grumpy look, hyung?”, the rapper laughed, playfully nudging the leader’s arm when he mumbled “i’m not grumpy, focus on the recording”.

while minho was smoothly recording his lines, jeongin and seungmin came into the room and sat on the couch to review their part, quietly talking between themselves.

chan liked it when the boys recorded in korean because they barely made any mistakes and didn’t need help with the pronunciation. that meant he, as a producer, didn’t need to be that focused.

of course he always payed a lot of attention to everything, but on days like this when he only wanted to be in his warm bed, a break from hyper-focusing on every detail was very welcome.

changbin was there anyway and he was just as professional as chan was. in fact, it was the rapper that was doing the most work today, because chan soon realised that his headache was steadily getting worse and he couldn’t help but zone out for the most part.

he was still halfway in a daze when minho finished his lines for the day and seungmin took his place in the booth.

“chan hyung”, minho called, standing next to chan who was now slumped over the table with his head resting on his crossed arms. no response. “channie hyung, channie hyung, chan-”

“what.”

lee know smiled at him, “you look dead”, he said, resting his hand on chan’s back. “i feel dead”, the leader groaned, wrapping his arms around his stomach and dropping his head on the table, “everything hurts”.

“sounds fun”, the dancer replied sarcastically, but against his words, he crouched down next to the leader and ran his hand down his back, “do you want pills?”.

chan cracked a smile at that and propped his head up on his hand, “don’t say it like that, it sounds sketchy”. minho laughed and shrugged, “not unless you make it sound sketchy. do you want painkillers or not?”.

when he received a nod in response, he went over to his bag and rummaged through it it until he found pills. “tell me you ate something at lunch”, the dancer said, walking back to chan, who nodded. “changbin made me”.

the rapper seemed to hear their conversation because he smirked, “you can thank me now hyung”. chan glared at him and sat straight to take the pills, which he swallowed dry. “disgusting” changbin mumbled, to which minho agreed, “very disgusting, are you dumb? you have water right there”.

“leave me alone”, chan complained, annoyed that his members were teaming up against him. the other two laughed, but let him be since seungmin needed to start recording.

chan couldn’t really complain right now. changbin was carrying most of the recording, the maknaes’ voices sounded as angelic as always and felix and hyunjin arrived on time to record their parts. everything was going perfectly well.

but still, the later it got, the worse chan felt. don’t get him wrong, the painkillers did work, but they had worn off way too quickly. now, his head was throbbing intensely, making his eyes water.

at some point, changbin had called han to take chan’s place because anyone could tell that the leader wasn’t able to do much even if he tried.

chan himself didn’t even put up a fight, instead giving up his seat to walk to the couch. as soon as he stood up a wave of dizziness washed over him and he was sure he’d have fallen if minho hadn’t been quick to steady him.

the dancer helped him to the couch where chan sat with his knees to his chest. minho felt his forehead again, and in a low voice so as not to make the headache worse, he announced “you now have the fever”.

chan bit his lip, of course everything had to take a turn for the worse before the schedule was over. if he was honest, he could cry.

“of course i fucking do”, he mumbled shakily, rubbing his eyes. at least if he ended up crying he could blame the headache for making his eyes water.

lee know looked surprised at the leader’s reaction. he usually coped well with being sick. apparently not today. “hey”, he said softly, “it’s fine, you’ll be good tomorrow. do you want to go home?”

did chan want to go home? yes he did. he was cold and tired and sick so he legally had absolutely no reason to be here. but he didn’t want to go home alone and miss what little was left of the recording, so he shook his head.

“no? why not? this is almost over- oh, that’s why, this is almost over”. it was almost funny, really, how the second oldest was able to read his mind, but he appreciated it. “then…”, minho continued, “try to fall asleep? you can at least rest, can’t you?”.

chan shrugged. could he? he always found it hard to sleep when he was in pain, so probably not. but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

seeing how he was having an internal debate, minho gently pushed chan’s head to his shoulder and rested his arm over the older. “just try, hyung, it’s fine if you can’t”.

so chan tried. he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the background noise. felix’s and hyunjin’s raps were great for stage, but weren’t exactly relaxing, so it wasn’t long before he needed to grab his airpods to block the noise.

minho winced in sympathy at the way chan kept moving in his seat because he couldn’t get comfortable and started rubbing the leader’s back in a way he hoped was comforting.

it was comforting, that was for sure, but chan felt too bad to rest. he kept moving around, trying to get comfortable, but he didn’t get anywhere. “i can’t”, he whimpered quietly, sitting up and struggling to take a deep breath in without breaking into tears.

minho bit his lip sadly. the leader looked awfully pale and his eyes were glossy, wether that was the fever or tears he couldn’t tell. “i don’t know, hyung…”, the dancer said softly, “i really think i should take you home. binnie and han got this”.

chan didn’t even find it in him to say no this time. his head hurt so bad, his stomach was flipping and he still felt as freezing as he did in in the morning.

plus, he was sure he’d end up crying and he didn’t need everyone watching him. “okay”, he told minho, looking down at his shaking hands, “i-i just want… i r-really want this to s-stop”.

“of course you do”, minho hummed, standing up and giving the leader an unusually gentle smile, “we’ll go, just let me tell changbin first”.

he went over to the rapper and whispered “i’m taking hyung home, he’s dying over there”, to which changbin’s eyes widened in worry.

chan watched the interaction, not even able to feel guilty because he knew there was no way he could stay here, in the crowded recording room, any longer.

out of the corner of his teary eye, he saw changbin shoot him a reassuring smile, and he couldn’t help but smile back, albeit a bit unsteadily as a tear rolled down his flushed face.

when minho came back, took his hand and helped him up and towards the door, he didn’t resist.

when he was gently pushed to the backseat of a car and minho had to buckle him up because his hands were shaking too badly to fasten the seatbelt himself, he didn’t protest.

and when the soothing and constant motion of the vehicle finally lulled him into a light doze, he didn’t catch minho’s loving smile.

but the short drive to his dorm was too short for sleep to help him, and he was woken up by minho slowly shaking his arm. minho, who had apparently taken the role of chan’s pillow.

the leader sat up, a bit shy that he’d acted so… soft? was that even the word? his clouded mind didn’t even know, but he was embarrassed.

as for the dancer, he simply chuckled and waved his hand in front of chan’s face, breaking into a laugh when the older looked up at him with a very not intimidating glare. “let’s go”, he said, leaning across chan to open the door for him, “what a gentleman i am, hm?”.

chan rolled his eyes at minho’s cocky manners, but the movement made him wince. right, his head was killing him and he was feverish. he almost forgot. slowly, so as not to trigger another wave of pain, he got out of the car and thanked the driver.

immediately, minho wrapped an arm around his shoulders and walked with him. once again, chan’s shaky hands prevented him from unlocking the door and, with a poorly concealed pout, he gave the keys to minho.

“can’t believe you’re still cold”, minho teased, opening the door quickly to let chan out of the winter air asap. “don’t believe it, then”, snapped the leader. more like mumbled, actually, because his voice was weak and his expression not offensive at all.

the dancer laughed at him yet again. how many times would he today? it was unfair. chan took small steps into the elevator and slumped against the wall, not having the energy to stand up on his own.

when minho got inside too, next to him, chan couldn’t help but drop his head on the younger’s shoulder.

the dancer let him and even brought a hand up to his neck, but removed it when it’s coldness made chan shiver. “sorry”, he apologised quietly, instead touching his forehead again, “still too warm. you’re taking more pills as soon as i find them”.

true to his word, minho didn’t waste a second, and when they finally got into chan and jeongin’s dorm, he made the leader change into warmer sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt—he didn’t think the thick hoodie would be of any help to the fever, so he made chan take it off—before finding fever reducers and giving them to him.

“comfy?”, he asked after a while, proudly looking at the way he’d gotten chan settled on his bed under a fluffy blanket and looking the slightest bit more colourful. yeah, not colourful, he wasn’t a rainbow (lowkey tho-), just less pale. chan, for maybe the first or second time that day, giggled quietly and nodded.

“won’t you sit with me, lino-yah~?”, he asked in a playful voice, but there was a slight pleading hidden in his words that minho couldn’t ignore, so he just nodded and sat next to the leader, letting himself be used as a pillow once more.

chan was still hurting, of course, but he was in his comfy warm bed and had his ‘cutest little thing’ next to him. and minho would make it better if the pain got worse again, would wake him up if the fever gave him the nightmares that always chased him when he was sick.

minho was there, and would take care of him, right? yes, 100% right.

[cat3ch1sm]

hihi! i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if u could do killua and gon with a reader whos a silly, clumsy, and kinda dumb mf <3

except readers very powerful, on level or even more than them bc reader is a boss fr 🙏

this can be hcs or a oneshot or whatever u want!

(SORRY IF THIS MAKES NO SENSE LMFAO)

☘️~ DW POOKIE I UNDERSTOOD U PERFECTLY!! thanks 4 requestingg ily <33

gn!reader

𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐰 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

୨⎯ 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 ⎯୧

killua usually doesn’t have a lot of patience for people with your personality , but he’s honestly seen what you’re actually capable of so he’s more like.. weirded out

as in like, killua knows you’re crazy powerful and generally super capable- so how the hell do you literally manage to trip over every minor obstacle in your path

but tbh gon has kinda warmed him up to those kinds of people. outside of battle situations it’s basically him making sure you and gon don’t get kidnapped or killed or something

and the contrast between your personality during battle and your personality on just a regular day chilling with him and gon is like insane to him. one minute you’re covered in blood and utilizing blazing nen in ways he didn’t even realize were possible, and next you’ve pulled up like a really stupid meme or picture of a cat on your phone and just giggling like an idiot while showing him (and very much still bloodied).

killua asked you about it once and you just kinda gave him that thousand yard stare and he was just like… nvm

apparently your higher functions just shut off after a certain time 😭😭

but back to the clumsy part. because it’s genuinely insane how careless you can be on a daily basis. worse than gon.

“watch out for the fucking pole, y/n!”

“are you even paying attention?”

“what the hell did you even just trip over, you dumbass? there’s nothing even there.”

“holy shit can you be careful for once??”

“I literally watched you take down 10 chimera ants without breaking a sweat and you can’t even pull a push door, you idiot?”

“no, i’m not letting go of your arm because that’s the tenth time you’ve tripped in the past fifteen minutes. you’ll probably kill yourself if i don’t hold your ass up.”

“way to go, dumbass, now you cut your leg. maybe you’ll be less stupid next time” (while begrudgingly fixing you up)

along with being clumsy you can be super absent-minded and get distracted easily. like gon and killua will just be walking and talking and then suddenly stop and realize you stopped like ten feet ago to stare at absolutely fucking nothing.

when they backtrack to get you they’ll be like “wtf are you staring at” and you’ll just snap out of a daze and they’ll realize you weren’t even staring at anything in particular, you just…zoned out😭😭😭

“y/n. y/n? hellooooo? ugh… nevermind.”

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐠𝐨𝐧 ࿐ྂ

we all know gon isn’t actually the silly, slightly air headed kid from the early days of hxh, obviously- but when he’s just with you and killua and there isn’t any danger, you both basically act the same way. believe me yall got killua stressinggg 😭😭

u guys just fuel each others’ silly antics. and while he isn’t as clumsy as you can be, when u guys are together you guys r genuinely a two man wrecking team. you guys are constantly doing silly and sometimes stupid stuff and not at all focusing.

far too many times you both have been walking or running beside each other and just stumbled over each other’s feet and fell to the ground like actual idiots.

you and gon both have the same tendency to get distracted easily. so basically the same scenario from killua’s hcs but you and gon lmfao

he’ll be walking looking at his phone or something and realize the both of you aren’t even beside him anymore.

“y/n? gon? where… you gotta be kidding me. guys. what the hell are you even looking at?!”

little Christmas head canon- you guys absolutely knocked down the tree at least twice.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

miss faNGGGGG!!! MISSS !!!! FANGGGGG!!!!!! please spare some thoughts on brothers best friend oliver 🧎‍♀️im on my knees. cz like i think hed get a thrill out of the indecency of it and maybe sendo would deem you off limits cz you’re too “clean” for a guy like oliver and itd only fuel him harder…

SDJLFJDFLK g*d. i hate this guy.

i think.... with sendo.... you guys are like total opposites. sendo grows up as like.. the perfect athlete jock type son. super popular and stuff.

i know you say clean here but in my mind im imagining ur sort of alternative u just keep to yourself to yourself a lot you know.... like bear with me but because sendo is so in the spotlight u sort of develop your own thing and tend to have your own individual style. very Different i suppose. you're a little weird and otherwise super straight-laced. got bullied for being different at one point or another but found a few close friends in school etc

sendo is sendo so he's always been super popular. u drifted apart when he played soccer more and so while u know of oliver u dont rlly get to know him until he's already a slut lol. sendo tells oliver that u probably wont be his type (not to be an asshole but u are not usually like who he dates) and to not be around you in general.

oliver sort of assumes that u have some experience though. like you have a certain look and style of dress that makes u stand out. so imagine his shock and surprise when he tries talking to you and you're kind of meek. you're like super doe-eyed which makes it even worse. and olivers like. oh. i have to make it my lifes mission to fuck this kid.

and so he starts coming over and texting you a lot. you're . so naive. which makes sense considering all that sendo has told you. but he really gets off on just how easily you seem to trust him. guys lie you know? don't you have any sense of danger. but guys have never been interested in you and you don't think oliver is either.

you guys meet on accident in a 7/11 near your house once and he sort of. jumps on the chance to be alone with you. you just make it way too easy. like way way way too easy. he doesn't even have to get you drunk he just asks if you have any kissing experience and then asks if he can kiss you when you say no. and you're like oh i mean. i guess. and you're super clumsy and it gives him a weird boner.

you lose your virginity in an alleyway and in the filthiest way possible. no condom either. baggy hoodie stuffed into your mouth, basketball shorts down at your ankles, socked feet pushed up out of your sandals and your hands on the wall with oliver fucking you in public - squirt and cum running down the inside of your thigh. he's fucking you hard too, no mercy just his hands on his hips while he moans about how good your pussy feels around his dick

he's kinda horrible because he keeps teasing you the entire time. and then when you give him a fucked out look over your shoulder and ask if you can kiss again he nearly cums right there.

you're like drooling and your thighs are trembling. you nearly fall down in the middle of it because your legs are so weak. he ends up taking you home after the first round and fucking you some more after that.

weirdly i do think oliver in this scenario ends up dating you in secret. he gets off way more on your sex innocent reactions and hiding it than he thought. sendoes gonna fucking kill him later but well, it's not his fault you make such a noise when he fucks you face down ass up yk

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“He's sleeping on your sofa?”

“Yes.”

“He stayed for the night?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Inés.”

“I know, Carla. I know” I sigh over the phone. “But what else should have I done? I don't know where he lives and I couldn't send him on his own. Like, the driver was super nice and wanted to help, but…“

“What was that noise?”

“Oh my God, Pedri!” I say, running towards the living room. “Pedri, are you ok?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine” he says from the floor. 

“I'll call you later, Carla” I say, hanging up before she can say goodbye. “Are you sure you are ok?”

“Yeah… The blood in my hand is old, so I guess I didn't open my head in half.”

“You actually did that last night.”

“What?” he asks, looking up at me. How can he be hungover and still look handsome? It's not fair. 

“You hit your head when you were getting out of the Uber. And you still have blood in your hand because you fell asleep before I could take care of it.”

“Shit” he says, slowly moving back to sit on the sofa and untangling his legs from the blanket. “I'm sorry, Inés.”

“What for?”

“All this. Whatever it is I did last night. I don't usually drink so much that I end up this drunk, but…”

“But drinking the amount of alcohol you drank in one go, can knock out anyone.”

“Yeah” he chuckles, the movement definitely hurting him. “May I ask for a glass of water?”

“Of course. One of the big ones?”

“If you have one…” he smiles. Though that also seems to hurt him.

“Here you go” I say when I'm back with his water.

“Thank you, Inés” he says, drinking it all in one go. Again. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask him.

“I could eat a cow, to be honest” Pedri laughs. 

“I'm afraid I don't have one, my apartment is too small to keep one of those. And the smell…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “It's a nice apartment, tho. Very cosy.”

“You said the same last night.”

“Well, kids and drunks don't lie, do they?” he smirks, looking at me.

“Yeah” I reply with a nervous laugh, hoping he can't notice that I'm blushing. “I can't offer you a cow, but maybe an omelette will be ok? I've heard it helps with hangovers, and I don't have much else on my fridge right now.”

“An omelette will be fine. Thank you.”

“You're welcome” I smile. “And the bathroom is that door over there” I say, pointing behind me. “You probably want to refresh yourself a bit and check your wound. Or I can do it myself. The wound part, not the refreshing.” Oh my God, Inés. Shut up.

“I think I can manage” he says, slowly getting up from the sofa. “But I'll leave the door open just in case” he winks, instantly regretting doing it. 

“Great, umm… that door” I say, trying to stay focused and not think too much about the way his wink has made me feel. Like, it was just a wink, and one he didn't even manage to properly do because he ended up closing both eyes. It should have not turned me on!

“Thank you, Inés” he replies before slowly walking away while I just watch him. Even the way he walks while being hungover is sexy. What the fuck?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Inés, I'm afraid I may have ruined one of your towels while washing my face” Pedri says as he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh, don't worry. It's… bloody hell” I gasp, the fork I had on my hand falling to the floor.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Clumsy hands” I chuckle as I bend down to pick it, hiding my face as much as I can. Because I'm pretty sure that if he looked at it right now, he would be able to see how badly I'm blushing. And why, you may ask? Because he just walked into the kitchen while putting on his t-shirt, and I've gotten to see in person his chest, and his abs, and I just… I… Thoughts have been thought. “Your omelette is almost ready” I manage to say.

“Great. Do you want me to help you with anything?” he offers.

“No, don't worry. Sit down.”

“Ok" he says. "By the way, do you know where I left my phone? It isn't in my pocket and I didn't see it in the living room.”

“Oh, it's in my bag. You dropped it on the Uber when you decided to take a nap on my lap.”

“So that wasn't a dream, uh… Anyway, I just wanted to check on Mario. I think we left him with a friend of yours?”

“Yep, with Carla” I say, focusing on finishing his omelette. “Nothing happened between them if that's what you are wondering.”

“But they seemed to like each other, didn't they? I think I remember that.”

“They… they did, yes” I say, putting the plate with the omelette in front of him and giving him my back again. And why? Because I'm feeling as nervous as if I am being judged to get into MasterChef, but mainly because his hair is all wet, and so is part of his t-shirt, and he looks so… so… so freaking hot. “Do you want something to drink too? More water?”

“Please” he says. “And oh my God, Inés. This tastes like heaven.”

“It's just an omelette, Pedri” I chuckle. 

“Best one I've ever tasted.”

“I think the hangover is talking for you.”

“Maybe… or maybe not” he smirks. “Thank you for taking care of me. I should have been the one taking care of you and accompanying you home, and then…”

“It's ok, don't worry” I smile. 

“You can't tell anyone at uni about this, tho.”

“Will I be ruining your reputation?” I tease him. Wait, what? Who are you, woman?

“Oh, definitely” he laughs, the sound making the butterflies on my stomach come alive. I've made him laugh. Me. Inés. I've made Pedri laugh. Can you believe it? “Getting drunk after just one drink and then opening my head with a car's door? They would tease me with that until we graduate.”

“My lips are sealed, then” I say, touching them.

“Thank you” he says. And call me crazy, but I could swear he focused on them for longer than you normally would before starting to eat again. Though maybe it's because I have something on my face. Maybe I didn't clean myself properly after eating my breakfast, and I've had chocolate somewhere while we've been talking and oh my God! “This was so good, Inés.”

“You already finished it?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. Did he eat too fast or was I gone with my own thoughts for too long? 

“But you still are hungry, aren't you? That probably counts as just a cow's ear.”

“I am, yes” he chuckles. “Do you know if anyone in your neighborhood makes churros?”

“What?”

“I'm in the mood for churros. Though maybe it is too late for them, isn't it?” he says, checking his watch.

“A bit, yes.”

“Then we could make them ourselves.”

“What?” I say again. He's going to start thinking I'm stupid. Or deaf. Or both.

“Yeah, it'll be fun. We just need some flour.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

We just need some flour, Pedri had said. But the thing was, that I didn't have any at home or even a machine to make churros, so we had had to go out to one of those 24 hour open supermarkets and a bazaar to buy everything we would be needing. While we were at it, we also bought some chocolate that he swore was the best chocolate ever and that it would be perfect for the churros, some gummy bears he was in the mood for, and on our way home, what did he do when he saw a woman selling roses on the street? He bought me one.

Pedri bought me a freaking red rose. 

He said it was his way of saying thank you for taking care of him, but because like I already said, I'm stupid and can't accept that he only likes me as a friend, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. 

“It is very easy. Look” Pedri says, letting a churro graciously lay on the oil. After making a bit of a mess in my kitchen, mainly because we spent most of our time making jokes and teasing the other, now it was time for the less fun part: frying the churros.

“It is easy for you. I've never done this before.”

“Inés, you made me an omelette for breakfast. You know your way around the kitchen” he chuckles.

“With what I'm familiar with, yes. But this…” I say, looking at the frying pan as he puts another one in.

“It'll be fine, you'll see.”

“Pedri…”

“Pick a churro” he says, moving to stand behind me. 

“Shouldn't I put an apron first or something?”

“Aprons are for cowards, I already told you. Pick a churro, Inés.”

“Fine” I sigh. 

“The key is to not think too much about it.”

“What?” I say, his face suddenly too close to mine. So close, that I can feel his breath tickling my ear. 

“If you think too much about it you'll probably end up burning yourself, and we don't want that, do we?”

“No” I whisper. 

“Inés, stop looking at me and focus on what we are doing” he smirks. 

“I'm focused” I say, giving his lips one last look before focusing on the pan. This close they look even more kissable. 

“Good” he says. I can't see his face anymore, but I'm sure he is still smiling. “Now pick a churro.” 

“Ok” I say, putting all my senses on that and not on his hands resting on my waist, or the fact that he is now so close to me that if I moved a little, I could feel his churro. 

“We are going to do it at the count of three, ok? Remember to not think too much about it.”

“Ok” I nod.  

“One… two… three!” 

“Ah!” I yell, closing my eyes and letting the churro fall on the pan before twisting on Pedri's arms and curling up against him.

“You did it, Inés!” he laughs, his chest vibrating against mine, a feeling I could definitely get used to. “Inés… Inés, hey. Are you ok?” he says, his hands suddenly moving to my face and making me look at him. “Did you get burnt?”

“What?” 

“The oil, Inés. Did it burn you?” he says, his eyes moving all over my face. He looks so worried but also so cute and concerned and cute and… 

“No, no. I'm fine.”

“You sure?” Pedri asks, one of his thumbs moving over my cheek. It is the lightest of touches, but it manages to make my knees feel weak and my face burn, something I'm pretty sure he is noticing. 

“I'm fine.”

“Ok, good” he says, giving me one last concerned look before smiling again. “Why don't you take care of the chocolate while I finish this?”

“Yes, sure.”

“Great” he says, kissing my forehead and letting go of me. Did he… Did Pedri just kiss my forehead? As if I was a little kid? Though I've seen photos of couples doing it on Pinterest and they look really cute so… 

“Inés, did you hear me?”

“I…”

“You didn't” he chuckles. “Get a couple of pots to start melting the chocolate.”

“Yes, a pot. For the chocolate. Yes” I say, trying to focus again on what we are doing. On the churros.

“Two pots, Inés.”

“Two pots, yes” I say, starting to look for them to try and ignore the playful smile on his face, one that is definitely not helping with my current state. At all. 

Because getting turned on while making churros, was something I didn't have on my bingo card for today. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's the last one” Pedri says after taking the last churro from the frying pan. We've made enough for the whole building, to be honest. “How is the chocolate going?”

“I think it's almost ready.”

“Let me check.”

“Pedri!” I say when he puts his finger inside the pot. 

“What?” he says after sucking it and then licking a bit of chocolate that was running down towards his hand, making me add all that to my list of things I didn't know could turn me on. 

“Haven't you heard of spoons?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. “But this way it tastes a lot better. Give it a go” he says, covering his finger on chocolate once again.

“What are you doing?” I say with a nervous laugh.

“I want you to taste the chocolate.”

“From your finger?” 

“Yeah” he shrugs again. “C'mon, Inés.”

“I… I…”

“You won't regret it. Trust me.” 

“Ok” I say, holding Pedri's hand and sucking his finger, the noise that leaves my mouth when I taste the chocolate making this situation even more sexual and pornographic than it already was.

“Told you it was good” he smirks before licking his finger. The finger I just sucked, yes. “Now let's taste it with a churro” he says, taking one and dipping it on the chocolate. “Ladies first.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Open your mouth, Inés.” Jesus fucking Christ. Does he know the meaning of everything he's saying and doing, or is it just me and my dirty mind? “Good girl” Pedri smirks when I do as he says and give the churro a bite, another very sexual noise leaving my mouth. 

Oh, he knows. He definitely knows what he is doing. Where has his hungover gone?

“Good?” he asks me, eating what was left of it.

“So good” I manage to say.

“Then let's sit down and eat them before they get cold.”

Though if you ask me, that would be something impossible keeping in mind how hot I'm feeling right now. Just the heat coming from my body would be able to keep them warm for a week. 

“Where did you learn to make churros?” I ask him as I sit down at the table.

“My mum taught me” Pedri says, eating one in one go. 

“Did she also teach you the finger thing?” 

“She would hit me with a pan if she saw me do it” he laughs. “But you can't deny it tasted a lot better like that” he smirks.

“Yeah, well” I reply, eating a churro and hoping it can somehow hide my blush. “You can pick up.”

“Uh?”

“Your phone. You can pick up, it's been vibrating for a while.”

“Nah, it's ok. She's probably just calling because I haven't replied to her good morning message.” And with she, he means his girlfriend, Nerea. I saw the name on the screen. “Sometimes she treats me as if I was a kid, constantly asking me if I've eaten or gone to the bathroom.”

“What?” I laugh.

“She's a nursing student and sometimes takes things way too seriously” he shrugs. “Anyway, less talking about her and more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Inés. Tell me something about you that I don't know” Pedri smiles.

“I… Ummm…” I fancy you very much? Nah, he has probably noticed that already, he isn't stupid. “As a kid I supported Real Madrid.”

“No!” he gasps. 

“Yep. I got into football because of my cousins, and that's the team they support”

“Have you seen the light now?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of? Inés!” he laughs. “You play for Barcelona!”

“And basically everyone in my family who likes football supports Real Madrid, it isn't my fault!” I laugh back. “But we've made a deal, and we only support the men's team.”

“Well, it's something” he chuckles.

“What about you? Which team do you support?”

“I was basically born with a Barça t-shirt on” he smiles before starting to tell me more about his life in Tenerife, both of us sharing anecdotes from our childhood and laughing for what feels like hours. And we actually talk for hours, because when I randomly look up and see the clock on the microwave, it's almost four o'clock.

“Oh, shit” I say, quickly getting up from my chair.

“Everything ok?” Pedri asks me.

“Yes. No. I mean… It's just that my dad is coming to pick me up in half an hour to go visit my grandparents, and I need to shower, get ready, clean all this…” 

“And here I've been entertaining you. I'm so sorry, Inés.”

“What? No, no. I've really enjoyed this.”

“You have?”

“I have” I smile. The part where I was so turned on I was close to explode, included.

“I've also really enjoyed this time together” he smiles back. He… He has enjoyed… being with me. Spending time with me. But obviously just as friends. Though he was ignoring his girlfriend’s calls and texts… No, Inés. Just friends. Don't make the same mistake again. “Why don't I clean around while you get ready?”

“Oh, no, no, no. You are my guest, I can't let you do that.”

“Inés” Pedri says, getting up from his chair and closing the space between us, one of his hands reaching for mine, his touch making me gasp. “You are the one who took care of me last night when you didn't have to, and your kitchen is a mess because of me, because I had the amazing idea of making churros.”

“You did, yes” I chuckle.

“Then let me do this for you. Please.”

“Ok, fine. I can't say no that face.” Because he is pouting. He is pouting those extremely kissable lips of his, and if I have to look at them for any longer, I may end up doing something that I will definitely regret. 

“No one can resist it, I know” he winks. Oh, yes, Pedro. Add a wink to the mix. Kill me a bit more. “Now, you shower, I clean. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal.”

“Then chop chop, Inés” he says, kissing my cheek and starting to tidy up the table while I just stay there, not moving a single muscle. Pedri just kissed my cheek. Not my forehead like before, no. My cheek. “Inés, didn't you hear me? Chop chop!”

“Yes, shower, getting ready.”

“Exactly” he laughs before I leave the kitchen, whatever song he starts whistling getting stuck in my head for the rest of the day.