#thinking about doing more drabbles like this honestly

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!

⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮   Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past. 

Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy. 

Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered. 

You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do. 

The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight). 

You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your… 

What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did. 

It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for. 

You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”

The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking. 

You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”

He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”

Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”

“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space. 

Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??

After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”

He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut. 

It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship. 

“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”

You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate. 

Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”

“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”

“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain. 

“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”

He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”

You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.” 

After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”

Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”

“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.” 

“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips. 

“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”

“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly. 

“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”

He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”

“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”

It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”

“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet. 

Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”

Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.” 

“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth. 

Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”

“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”

“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine. 

You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…” 

Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”

“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed. 

The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment. 

Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.  

Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”

There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”

“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”

“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.

Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”

You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”

There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”

“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response. 

“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory. 

“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line. 

You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”

Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”

“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”

You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”

“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”

You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.” 

“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”

“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”

“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”

[romugh]

HISTORY IN THE MAKING - nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, gp!bottom!natasha, handjob (n rcv), blowie (n rcv), missionary, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie? muaha... shy daddy!nat UGHH, kind of orgasm control & slight edging if you squint

wc- 5.4k

a/n- drabble turned fic as i worked my way through these exact history shenanigans a few days back... in the same INTIMATE STUDIES universe! might make this a cute lil thing :) this is very much NOT my best work, i might rework it a little bit just to make it flow a lil more! apologies if there are any repetitions, i tried to catch them, but my brain is fried :/

synopsis- natasha's helping you study russia's history, and the rest is history?? idk it's too late rn guys i'm going to sleep

taglist- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀, @simpforlizzie, @riyaexee

You’re sitting cross-legged on Natasha’s bed, staring down at a jumble of Russian history notes that you’re certain might as well be in Cyrillic themselves. The words swim on the page, stubbornly refusing to click in the way chemistry formulas or physics equations do. You press the back of your pen to your lips, glancing over at the figure hunched over the desk in the corner of the room.

Natasha is fully engrossed in her game, brows furrowed in concentration as her fingers fly across the keyboard. The light from her monitor casts a soft glow on her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek and the gentle bite of her lower lip. She’s wearing a simple white blouse tucked into a plaid skirt, her usual attempt to dress professionally for class long since abandoned in favour of cosy socks and a messy bun.

You can’t help but smile a little. The contrast between Natasha’s outward shyness and the intensity in her focus has always been something you found endearing. You met in the class you were currently trying to study for, back when you’d shown up late to Russian history, fumbling through an awkward introduction as the professor sighed and directed you to sit in the last free seat beside her. It had taken a few study sessions for you to get past her initial stammering, but now, you could ask her about anything and her eyes would light up, eagerly launching into whatever story or fact you were struggling to understand. But right now, that focus is directed entirely on her computer screen.

You clear your throat. “Natasha?”

“Hm?” She barely looks up, eyes quickly darting back to her screen.

“Nat,” you repeat, with a hint of a smile. “I need help with the comparison of Russia until 1917 and the West-European’s Ancien Régime. And… pretty much all the details, too.”

She gives a little sigh, half-distracted. “Mm. Yes, the parables are… very interesting, baby. Give me one second. I’m doing really well.”

You hold back a laugh. “Right, but I’m failing Russian history. Melina and Alexei will both kill me. So can you take a break?”

Her eyes don’t leave the screen. “I will, I promise. Just a few more minutes. I’m close to beating this level.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her single-minded dedication. Her stubborn innocence, the way she always seems to be pulled between her gentle nature and her intense focus, has you mesmerised. But she can’t honestly think you’re going to wait forever.

“Natasha,” you say softly, standing and crossing over to her desk. Her gaze flicks up to you on her side, her big, doe-like eyes widening with an almost bashful look as you lean against the desk. “You’re seriously not going to help me?”

She blushes, biting her lip. “I really want to help,” she whispers, almost apologetic, “but, really, just a little longer? Please?”

There’s something about the sweet innocence of her pleading that has your heart racing. Her earnestness always has a way of drawing you in, those wide, round eyes like they’re begging for permission to keep playing, and her lips slightly parted in concentration. You tilt your head, taking in every detail of her—the slight blush dusting her cheeks, the faint glimmer of anticipation in her eyes, and the way her fingers clutch the keyboard just a little tighter, like she’s holding onto the game but secretly hoping you’ll take control.

You smile softly and reach for her chair, turning it around so she’s facing you. Her hands hover in the air, a brief look of panic on her face as she loses her place in the game. She opens her mouth to protest, but before she can say anything, you’re sliding onto her lap, straddling her, feeling the warmth of her strong thighs under you.

“Wait! You made me fall off the map!” Natasha squeaks, her voice a mixture of exasperation and a hint of excitement. Her hands instinctively find your hips, holding you as if she’s afraid you might slip away.

You give her a gentle smile, leaning in so that your faces are mere inches apart. “I thought you were going to help me study,” you murmur, your voice dropping to a soft, coaxing tone. You press your hands to her shoulders, letting your fingers trail along her collarbone, feeling the way her heartbeat quickens under your touch.

“I… I was,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing a deep pink, and you catch the slight tremble in her voice. “I just… my game.”

You tilt her chin up, making her meet your gaze, and she blushes even deeper, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips as her eyes grow wide, almost vulnerable. “Natty,” you say, your voice laced with playful patience, “I really need you to focus on me now. History, please.”

Her mouth opens slightly, as though she wants to argue, but all that comes out is a breathy whisper. “Okay.”

You hold Natasha’s gaze, the intensity in her eyes gradually overpowering her initial shyness. Her fingers rest on your hips, hesitant and yet possessive, as though she’s still trying to find some control in this position. Her breath catches each time you shift even slightly, and you can feel her heartbeat racing beneath your touch, each little change in her demeanour making her even more endearing.

You run your thumb along her jawline, feeling the delicate skin beneath, and she lets out a soft breath, her lips parting as she unconsciously leans into your touch. Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips, as if she’s desperately waiting for some kind of signal, a sign that she’s allowed to give in completely.

“Natasha,” you murmur, bringing your face close enough to feel her breath mingling with yours, “what are the key similarities, and how do the t<o regimes differ?”

She hums, her cheeks a soft shade of pink, but words seem to fail her. The hand on your hip trembles slightly, as though she wants to pull you closer but doesn’t dare to, not without permission. You feel the tension building, a mix of her nervousness and desire, and it only makes you want to pull her in even more.

Finally, you press a feather-light kiss to her cheek, just next to her ear, and whisper, “Come on, Natty. Think, please. Need your pretty self to explain it to me.”

She shivers under your touch, swallowing as she tries to remember the words. “Um… right, the… they didn’t have religious freedom,” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. The fingers on your hip dig in just slightly, a mix of nerves and need as she fights to keep her focus. “Orthodoxy– uh, there were lots of violent riots… against Muslims, but mostly Jews. Those were called pogroms and… oh…”

Her wordds trail off as you tilt her chin slightly, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her blush deepens, and you feel the way her body responds, her tension giving way to a faint tremor as she tries to keep talking.

“You’re so good at this,” you whisper, guiding her with gentle encouragement. “But I’m going to need a little more focus from you if we’re going to get through all this history.”

Her breath catches, and she nods, biting her lip as she tries to concentrate. “I can focus,” she whispers, more to herself than to you, as though she’s trying to convince herself as much as you. Her gaze stays locked onto yours, her wide eyes full of innocence mixed with a yearning she can’t quite hide.

Her fingers finally slide up your sides, settling on the dip of your waist with a delicate grip, as though she’s terrified of doing too much, yet completely unwilling to let go. You smile softly, placing a hand over hers, squeezing in silent encouragement, and her blush deepens, her eyes darting away for just a second.

But you don’t let her break eye contact for long. Tilting her chin back to you, you brush your lips over hers in a kiss so soft it’s barely there, and she lets out a faint sigh, melting into the touch. Her grip tightens again, and you feel her breath hitch as you deepen the kiss just slightly, enough to make her toes curl beneath her chair.

“Tell me more,” you murmur, pausing just inches from her mouth, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating between you. “About the razzias. I want to hear you explain it.”

Her lips part, her mind clearly racing to catch up, but she manages a shaky breath. “They just were um, a…,” she stammers, her voice a mix of strained focus and barely-restrained excitement. Her hands start to relax, as though she’s finding confidence in your guidance. “They… uh– it’s a reckoning against religious ideals.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in approval, your thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. “And then the revolution happened?”

Her eyes flicker down to your lips, and she swallows, her voice barely more than a whisper. “There were two revolutions, technically. First, the February Revolution, and then the radicalised October Revolution.”

Her words start to blur into soft breaths as you lean closer, the warmth of her skin against yours heightening with each delicate touch. You feel her legs shift under you, and a soft gasp escapes her when you shift your weight in her lap, pressing yourself against her in a way that’s both innocent and electric. Her lashes flutter, and her eyes grow hazy, the careful focus she was trying to hold onto slipping with each passing second.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice soft and affectionate. Her lips part in a faint, breathless smile, and you feel her chest rise as she takes in a shaky breath, her grip on you tightening just a little more.

You tilt her head back, keeping her gaze locked on yours, letting your fingers trail down her throat, feeling the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath your touch. Her eyes widen, a mixture of awe and anticipation in them as she watches your every move, her hands moving under your sweater like she’s trying to ground herself.

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask softly, running a finger along her jawline, watching the way her breath catches in response.

She nods, unable to find words, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Her eyes hold that same innocent, almost pleading look, as though she’s begging you to take control, to guide her wherever you want.

You smile, letting your hand drift down from her jaw, fingers grazing along her collarbone, before you slowly trail down to her chest and stomach, where you can feel the rise and fall of her shallow breaths.

“Okay, baby,” you murmur, your words soothing yet commanding as you press a gentle kiss to her neck, feeling the way her pulse quickens under your lips. She shivers, a barely audible whimper escaping her lips, her wide eyes softening as she watches you, her gaze full of innocent trust.

“Natasha,” you whisper, drawing out her name like a gentle caress, “let me help you focus.” Her breath catches, and she gives a shaky nod, her hands tightening their grip on the chair. You slowly lower yourself from her lap, letting your hands slide down the smooth skin of her thighs, feeling the way her body tenses under your touch only to relax as you continue, inching her knees apart.

Her blush deepens, and you can feel her shyness mingling with anticipation as her skirt rides up, revealing the growing hardness pressing against the fabric of her boxers. You let your fingers trace along her inner thigh, watching the way she trembles slightly at each delicate touch. Her wide eyes remain fixed on yours, that blend of vulnerability and desire making your own heart race as you take her in.

“Relax for me,” you murmur, running your hands gently along her thighs. You reach up to brush your fingers over the fabric straining to hold her in, and her lips part in a soft, involuntary moan, her cheeks flushing even deeper as she squirms in her seat.

With slow, deliberate movements, you slide her underwear down, watching the way her member springs free, her blush turning crimson as she looks away for a moment, a mixture of nervousness and excitement flickering across her face. You press a gentle kiss along her inner thigh, easing her legs further apart and taking in her reactions, savouring each shiver, each small gasp that escapes her lips. When you move your mouth closer to her length, you look up at her, waiting until her gaze meets yours.

Once it does, you bring your mouth to her, pressing a feather-light kiss along her shaft, and her reaction is instant—her hips jerk slightly, and she lets out a trembling breath, her fingers clutching the arms of her chair as she tries to stay still. Her breath hitches with every movement, her wide eyes looking down at you, filled with both awe and that same sweet shyness that makes her all the more endearing.

Slowly, you take her into your mouth, your tongue gliding over her, humming at the way she gasps, her fingers gripping the chair so tightly her knuckles turn white. You can feel her body tense under your touch, the warmth of her length in your mouth, and the way she squirms with each gentle movement. Her breathing becomes ragged, her cheeks flushed as her lashes flutter, struggling to keep eye contact.

“Just relax, Natty,” you murmur between gentle caresses, pausing only to offer soft words of encouragement, letting her feel the warmth of your breath against her sensitive skin. “You’re doing so well.”

Her eyes soften further at your words, her lips parted in a soft, breathless smile as she gives a faint nod, her entire body melting under your touch. She lets out a quiet, shaky moan as you continue, her hips shifting involuntarily, her breath hitching each time your mouth moves a little deeper. The look in her eyes—vulnerable yet trusting—only fuels your desire to take her further.

You increase your pace just slightly, watching the way her eyes grow hazier with each passing second, her fingers now reaching out, finding your shoulder as if she needs something to hold onto. The desperation in her gaze, the slight whimpers that escape her lips, all signal how close she’s getting. You pause, pulling back just enough to look up at her, watching the way she struggles to catch her breath.

“You’re so good, Natasha,” you murmur, words muffled by her heat in you, enjoying the way she shivers under the praise. “But don’t let go just yet. I want to take my time with you.”

Her blush deepens at the command, and she nods, swallowing hard as she holds back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to control herself. You press a soft kiss to her length, smiling at the way she bites her lip, her fingers still clutching your shoulder as she gives herself over to your touch.

With her breaths growing more ragged, you let your hand slide down her thigh, resting at the base of her length as you ease back, switching from the warmth of your mouth to the gentle grip of your hand. Natasha whimpers softly, her lashes fluttering as she watches you with that wide-eyed, innocent gaze. Her hands grip the arms of her chair for stability, her cheeks flushed and lips parted as you begin to stroke her slowly, savouring each reaction.

“Does that feel good, Natty?” you murmur, watching the way her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she nods, her entire body leaning toward your touch.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with a need she’s struggling to hold back. You watch the way her chest rises and falls, each shuddering breath making her more vulnerable, more open to your every move.

You increase the pressure slightly, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has her toes curling, her wide eyes looking down at you with unguarded adoration. You can see how close she is, her face a mix of tension and awe as she clutches at her chair, her mouth falling open in a soft gasp when you switch back to your mouth, taking her in once again.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling, barely audible. She shifts in her seat, her grip tightening as she fights to stay composed, though the desperation in her voice betrays her.

“You want more?” you murmur, pulling back just enough to look up at her, letting your breath ghost over her sensitive skin. She nods frantically, her gaze pleading, as though she’s ready to beg for you to keep going. Her vulnerability makes your heart race, and you lean back in, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her length before taking her in your hand again.

Each change between your mouth and hand drives her closer to that edge, her quiet, broken moans growing more frequent as her body responds to your every touch. You take your time, alternating between gentle strokes and teasing kisses, watching the way her resolve unravels completely. Her hips move instinctively, seeking more, her breath shallow and desperate.

Finally, you slow your pace, watching the way she shudders in response, her gaze hazy and her body fully at peace yet trembling in your hands. “I told you, Natty,” you whisper, pausing to press a kiss to her thigh, “I’m taking my time with you.”

She lets out a shaky exhale, her hands falling from the chair to clutch at your shoulders, her breathing still erratic as she tries to hold herself back. But you can see the way she’s teetering on that edge, fully surrendered to you.

As you continue to alternate between using your hand and mouth, her wide, vulnerable gaze grows more unfocused, her lips parting as her body instinctively responds to you. But just when you think she’s letting herself fall into your pace, you feel her fingers tangle in your hair, firm but trembling, gently pressing down, silently urging you to take her deeper.

The sudden assertiveness surprises you, but you comply, letting her guide you, feeling the way her grip tightens slightly, the desperation in her touch almost pleading. Her quiet whimpers grow louder, echoing in the room as she watches you, her gaze dark with fascination, completely enraptured by the sight of you surrendering to her need.

“Oh, please…” she murmurs, her voice a breathy whisper, barely containing herself. You feel her body shiver as you take her deeper, her soft gasp filling the air. Her eyes, usually so innocent and shy, are now dark with awe, wide and almost worshipful, as though she can barely believe what she’s seeing. She bites her lip, her face flushed, her expression somewhere between a plea and an apology, completely mesmerised by the sight of you.

Finally, feeling your control slip in her grasp, you tap her thigh, and she releases her grip on your hair immediately, looking down at you with that same innocent gaze, as if wondering if she’s overstepped. Her cheeks are flushed, her gaze shy once again, as she watches you with bated breath, clearly unsure of your next move.

Standing up slowly, you meet her gaze, your eyes smouldering as you reach down and slip off your underwear, letting the fabric fall to the floor before stepping out of it. Natasha’s eyes widen, her cheeks a deeper pink as her gaze travels from your face down the length of your body, lingering on the hem of your sweater as if transfixed by the contrast.

Before she can fully take in the sight, you reach for her, your fingers tangling in her hair as you tug her up from the chair, her body following your movements without hesitation. She gasps softly, her breath catching as she’s pulled to her feet, her wide, adoring eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Strip for me,” you command, your voice low, leaving no room for argument. You release her hair, your touch lingering for just a second as you make your way to her bed, settling yourself atop her scattered history notes, the crinkling of the papers the only sound breaking the silence. She watches, her blush deepening, clearly entranced by the sight of you lying there, completely at ease and in control. Her hands go to the hem of her skirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she begins to undress, her gaze never leaving yours.

Natasha’s fingers tremble slightly as she slides off her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Her shirt soon follows, revealing the flushed skin of her chest and the slight rise and fall of her breath as she finally stands in front of you, completely exposed and vulnerable. Her eyes flicker between your gaze and your body sprawled out over her history notes, her cheeks flushed with both shyness and desire. You stretch out comfortably, your sweater rucked up just enough to tease her, watching her with that same confident, hungry look that’s left her at your mercy all evening.

“Come here, Natty,” you murmur, your voice firm but soft. She steps forward, her movements hesitant but her gaze locked on you, and you guide her down onto the bed until she’s hovering over you, her body settling between your legs. Her breath catches as she takes you in, her wide, adoring eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath her, looking up at her with that unwavering, confident smile that’s made her melt all night.

As Natasha hovers above you, her body fitting perfectly between your legs, you can feel the nervous tremble in her limbs, her cheeks flushed as she takes in the sight of you lying beneath her, waiting. Her wide eyes, so shy and adoring, sweep over your face and then down, drinking in every inch of your body, as though each glance leaves her more entranced. Her lips part slightly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she steadies herself, hands resting tentatively on either side of you.

You reach up, cupping her face in your hands and guiding her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the heat radiate off her skin. She melts into you, her body instinctively pressing down, filling the space between you as her lips respond, moving tenderly yet hungrily, every kiss leaving her more breathless. With a gentle nudge, you guide her hips forward, feeling her length brush against your entrance, and she lets out a soft, broken gasp, her face flushed a deep pink as she begins to press into you.

You hum, running your hands through her hair, tugging gently to pull her closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. She gasps against your mouth, her lips parting as you deepen the kiss, feeling her shiver as she responds, her body pressing eagerly into yours. She lets out a soft, desperate moan as she slides inside, her hands gripping the sheets beside you.

“Oh,” she murmurs, barely above a whisper, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the warmth of your body surrounding her, enveloping her in a way that leaves her trembling. Her breath hitches, and she clutches the sheets beside you, her hands forming tight fists as she adjusts to the feeling, her gaze filled with wonder as she looks down at you.

“Good girl,” you whisper, watching the way her face softens at the praise, her body shuddering as she begins to move, her hips rolling forward in slow, tentative strokes. You feel each careful movement, each deliberate inch of her body pressing into yours, her lips parted in a quiet moan, her eyes half-lidded as she loses herself in the rhythm, her shy gaze growing more intense with each passing second.

With every thrust, her body trembles, her gaze filled with a raw vulnerability as though she’s giving herself to you completely, utterly. She clutches the sheets even tighter, her breathing quickening, her eyes never leaving yours as she moves deeper, her breath coming in soft, desperate pants.

“That’s it, Natty,” you murmur, running a hand along her cheek, feeling the way her breath catches at your touch. “Just like that.”

Her lips part in response, a soft whimper escaping her as her hips begin to move faster, her body pressing into yours with a growing urgency that she can barely control. She shivers, the need and intensity in her gaze building with every touch, every whispered word of encouragement. Her lashes flutter as she looks down at you, her cheeks a deep shade of pink, her expression vulnerable, almost pleading, as though she wants more but can barely bring herself to ask for it.

“Right there, Daddy,” you murmur, your voice soft, just loud enough for her to hear. The word slips from your lips easily, and you watch the way her entire being responds—the tremor in her hips, the widening of her eyes, the soft, desperate whine that falls from her lips. Her face and neck flush a deeper, unmistakable red, and for a moment, she looks at you with pure, unguarded awe, her expression caught between disbelief and overwhelming need.

Her hands tremble, her hips stuttering as she takes in the title, her body pressing instinctively deeper as though the sound alone draws her closer to the edge. “Daddy,” you whisper again, watching her face as she loses herself in the word, her expression filling with a blend of shyness and barely contained desire.

“P-please…” she stammers, her voice trembling, almost breaking as she holds herself back, her body trembling with the strain of it. “I… I need…”

You reach up, running your hand through her hair, guiding her gaze back to yours. “It’s okay, Natty,” you murmur, your voice soft, coaxing. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Her wide eyes fill with a deep, unrestrained need, and she lets out a soft, shaky exhale, her hands sliding from the sheets to grip your waist, holding you as though grounding herself. Her movements grow more erratic, her hips pressing deeper, her body responding to every encouraging word, every touch, as though completely under your control.

As she moves, you see the way she loses herself in each thrust, her face flushed, her mouth open as her breath comes in ragged, desperate pants. She looks down at you with that same innocent, adoring gaze, but now, there’s something more—something raw, a hunger she can barely contain. Her hips press forward, filling you completely, her body shuddering as she reaches the edge, her wide eyes pleading, searching your gaze for permission.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you whisper, your voice soft but firm, and you feel the way her body reacts, her grip tightening on your waist as she shudders, her hips jerking forward in a desperate, trembling thrust. Her eyes close as she gasps, her head falling forward as she loses herself completely, spilling into you with a soft, broken moan, her body pressing close, clinging to you as though she’s never felt anything so intense.

As Natasha trembles on top of you, her body pressed close, you feel every soft, shivering breath she takes, the weight of her against you as she finally lets go, spilling into you. Her head dips forward, eyes tightly shut, her lips parted in a quiet, desperate gasp as she comes, the warmth of her release filling you, a slow, deep pulse that seems to steal the breath from her lungs. Her grip tightens on your waist as if she’s clinging to you, grounding herself in the sensation, her face buried in the crook of your neck.

You can feel her chest rising and falling against you, her breaths ragged and shallow as she lets out a soft whimper, the vulnerability in her voice making your heart swell. Her hips press forward with each wave, as though she wants to be as close to you as possible, feeling every inch of her warmth, every pulse, spill into you, marking you in a way that’s both intimate and utterly consuming.

Each pulse of her release sends a shiver through her, her breathing shallow and uneven as she slowly comes down from the high, her eyes fluttering open, looking down at you with a dazed, awestruck expression. She looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and worship, her cheeks still flushed, her lips parted in a soft, blissful smile.

You brush a hand along her cheek, and she leans into your touch, closing her eyes as she takes a deep, steadying breath, her hands still holding you close, as though she can’t bear to let go.

“Natty,” you murmur, running your hands through her hair, guiding her face up to meet your gaze. Her eyes open slowly, her lashes fluttering as she looks at you, her gaze soft, overwhelmed, filled with a raw, unguarded adoration that she can’t hide. Her face is flushed, her lips slightly parted, her expression completely mesmerised as though she can barely believe you’re here, beneath her, accepting every bit of her.

A soft, blissful smile tugs at her lips, her hand moving up to gently cradle your face as she leans in, pressing a delicate, lingering kiss to your lips, her breaths still heavy, warm. She holds you like this, savouring the closeness, the feel of you wrapped around her, the warmth of her release settling within you.

Finally, she shifts, her forehead resting against yours, her eyes wide, her breath still uneven, as though she’s only just starting to come back to herself. She looks at you with a mixture of awe and disbelief, her fingers tracing your jawline softly, reverently.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” she stammers, her face flushing deeper, her shy gaze flicking away for a moment.

But you smile, reaching up to cup her face, bringing her gaze back to yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Natty… it’s okay,” you murmur, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “I wanted this, too. I asked.”

She lets out a soft, relieved exhale, her body relaxing as she sinks into you, her arms wrapping around you, holding you as though afraid to let go. You feel her heartbeat gradually slow, her warmth enveloping you, her gaze still soft, full of that same innocent awe as she watches you, completely lost in the moment.

As Natasha catches her breath, her fingers lingering on your skin as though afraid to break the closeness between you, she finally shifts to pull out, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping her lips. She watches with wide, almost mesmerised eyes as your bodies separate, and her gaze drops to the way your mixed warmth slowly begins to spill out of you, the evidence of everything you’ve shared glistening in the low light.

Her lips part, her cheeks flushed as her gaze stays fixed, almost transfixed, and she can’t hide the blush that rises as she takes it all in. She’s caught somewhere between admiration and disbelief, her wide eyes drinking in every detail as though this might all disappear any second.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer, Natty,” you tease, your smirk playful, voice soft, cutting through her daze. She looks up, startled, blinking as she registers your words. But after a second, she lets out a quiet, breathless laugh, her blush deepening as she reaches over to grab her phone, still trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She snaps a quick picture, her gaze flicking between the screen and you, clearly savouring every second. The reverence in her expression makes your heart skip, a feeling of pride filling you as you watch her.

Once she’s put the phone aside, she reaches over with a soft, sheepish smile, helping you sit up and adjust yourself. Her gaze softens, that shy, affectionate look taking over as she wraps her arms around you, holding you close, savouring the warmth that lingers between you both.

And then she glances at the bed, a small, nervous laugh escaping as she spots her carefully scattered history notes—now crinkled, a little rumpled, with more than a few slightly smudged edges. Without missing a beat, she moves to gather them, straightening the papers, her cheeks still a warm shade of pink as she moves to tidy up.

a/n- apologies if this is the worst piece i've written LOL i've been surviving on a few hours of sleep for the past few days- big thanks to jess for somehow helping me get through this, i'll let you keep your ps5. sigh. i'd still build a princess castle tho.

[jakedustry]

𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

drabble

wc 1k+

warnings f!reader, oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, marks/hickeys, mention of m! masturbation

↪ izzy adds... everyone say thank you to my best friend for sending me this idea one fine night so that I could wake up to a paragraph about how he'd eat me out because that's what made me write this

It wasn’t that long since you started dating Jake Sim. You started as friends – best friends even. When he first came into your math class, you weren’t paying much attention to him. Honestly, you were too busy trying to figure out where your other classes were to even notice him, but he caught your eyes a few weeks later when he decided to sit next to you. At first, you only exchanged a few smiles and short greetings, but after a while, he started asking you questions, trying to get to know you. 

After that, it only took a few more weeks for him to become your best friend. And now, just a month ago, he managed to gather all his courage and ask you out on a date, confessing he had those intentions from the moment he sat next to you. You couldn’t say no to him then, and that hasn’t changed since then. How could you when he was the one to show you what love feels like?

“What’s up?” You wonder, looking down at your lap where your boyfriend rests. He is lying on his stomach, his head on your belly, absolutely unfocused on the movie on your TV. “Nothing,” he mumbles but doesn’t look up to meet your eyes. “Jakey,” you say, cupping his cheeks and making him look up. “What’s on your mind?” 

“You are,” he answers, making you scoff. “I mean it,” he looks you straight in the eyes before looking down again, his fingers playing with the hem of your pants. He mutters something under his breath, but you don’t manage to catch it. “What was that?” You ask, your cheeks flushing red the moment he looks up, flashing you the cutest puppy eyes you’ve seen yet. “W-What?” 

“Do you think I could eat you out?” He repeats his question, this time louder, with more confidence. You could never say no to him, and he knew it. But honestly, you didn’t even want to tell him no. 

The excitement in his eyes as he sees you nod is unbelievable, and before you know it, he is pulling your pants and underwear down. You’re embarrassed. You try to hide your face behind your hands, but Jake is quicker, holding your hands in his to make sure you see him. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you shake your head. “We’ve never– you know, you haven’t– and–” you try to form a meaningful sentence, making your boyfriend laugh. He pulls himself up to face you, tugging your hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “I know, I know,” he whispers, his eyes full of assurance. “And we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. You can stop me whenever you want, and we can pretend nothing ever happened. I don’t want to rush you. I’ve just been wondering how you’d taste,” he caresses your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss to prove he means everything. 

You don’t want to see your face because you know you’re as red as ever. But Jake doesn’t seem to mind a bit, carefully moving down again and making himself comfortable between your legs. You watch him place your legs on his shoulders, smiling at you to assure you once more before his attention shifts to your lower lips. 

He starts carefully, his tongue making its way from your clit down to your needy entrance. He takes his time with everything, making sure every lick of his, every movement he does, is as perfect as ever. He can’t rush this; he keeps repeating to himself. 

Jake keeps glancing up at you at first, wanting to see your reactions, but he soon gives up on that, too, diving in completely and focusing on his movements instead. 

“So good,” Jake moans, tongue-fucking you. Your head is thrown back, your hand in his hair as you cum for the second time. At this point, you don’t even know what he’s saying. He started blabbing stuff when you came for the first time and haven’t stopped since. He moves slightly up, sucking on your clit while his fingers make their way to your hole. You gasp when he inserts his middle and ring finger, lazily fingering you. Your legs shake, but he doesn’t stop. It’s as if he was in his world, on cloud nine, just because he can eat you out. 

His free hand wraps around your thigh, still trusting his fingers into you as he looks up at you. “You’re the best,” he mumbles, placing kisses on your inner thigh. “So good, I could do you forever.” You don’t get a chance to answer. Before you can even think of a response, his tongue is sliding between your folds again, and you’re unable to speak. Forget a dessert, this was the whole meal for him. 

“Jake– Wait, I can’t– not anymore,” you cry out, letting go of his hair, and it’s like something in him switches, looking at you immediately, his eyes full of worry. “What is it, baby?” He asks, completely frozen. “‘S too much,” you admit. “I can’t anymore.” He sighs in relief, slowly moving his fingers again, as if he didn’t hear you at all. “Is that so?” He coos, sucking on your inner thigh this time, and you’re sure it will leave a mark. “One more, please. You’ve been so good,” he praises. “Please, pup.” 

“Last one, though,” you agree, giving him a warning look that, however, only makes him chuckle. Jake returns to his job within seconds, leaving hickeys and marks all over your inner thighs while he fingers you before going back to sucking on your clit again. This time alone, though, his free hand doesn’t end up anywhere on your body, but instead, he uses it to pull down his pants, freeing his aching cock. 

His moans get louder as he palms his cock, pulling his fingers out to focus better. The praises from before turn into incomprehensible whines of lust and groans of your name, driving you crazy. 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to cum on his tongue again. Even though you thought you didn’t have another one in you, he managed to prove you otherwise, releasing all over your thighs soon after. His breath shakes as he falls on you, embracing you in a hug, as if this was just another one of your cuddling sessions. You’re both a mess, but you couldn’t have enjoyed this more. “So good,” he mumbles again before he sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey there too. “My girl tastes so good.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @nxzz-skz✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hello! I saw your post saying that you accept requests and mostly for Hawks rn. As u can tell from my username I LOVE this man, so I was thinking if you can write something about the reader using the Safeword during the act with him? Maybe he hurt her without meaning to? And it turns all fluffy with aftercare! You can ignore this if you want and I honestly don't even know if Im writing this in the right place or not it's my first time sorryyy 😭

Aftercare - Hawks x reader drabble

Author's note: Sorry this took so long haha, been busy with life. But!! I loved this idea! I love writing fluffy and doting Keigo. ALSO, here is my link if you want to support me financially <3 It's totally not necessary but money is super tight right now and I desperately need to get out of my household :|

Warnings: Mentions of sex (PIV), slight cursing, mdni. Reader is afab. Not thoroughly proofread

Sex with Keigo was always amazing, extraordinary even. You were lucky that you landed a partner as dutifully devoted to you and your pleasure as Keigo. Instead of giving yourself to some selfish prick whose love was dependent on how well you sucked their dick and how readily you were to spread your legs, you freely let Keigo’s soft touch, warm smiles, and protectiveness melt your heart. 

He often spent nights in between your thighs without so much as taking off his work pants, without expecting anything in return. His lips and fingers worked orgasm after orgasm from you. Your hands gently intertwine with his as he drags his thick cock against your sensitive walls, whispering murmurs of praise, light teasing, and - most importantly - consent checks. Keigo mentioned more than once that your enthusiastic consent made his dick dripping wet with precum. 

All of these facts did not aid the cognitive dissonance in your mind though  as he mercilessly pounded into you, his breath hitching every time he bottomed out; it was so rough it hurt, body haphazardly molded into whatever shape he pleased. The breeding season always heightened his sex drive. He needed this. What kind of partner would you be if you put your own needs in front of his own? 

So you did your best to take the ruthless pounding. Tears dripped down your cheeks. The taste of blood filling your senses as you bite your lip. 

“F-fuck, such a good slut for me, hm?” He rasps. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you’re pregnant.”

Deep breath. 

You could do this

Another deep breath.

You could do this.

And…

You…really can’t do this. 

“K-kei s-stop, ‘s too much …” your voice was too weak and breathy for your liking. “H-hawks”

Keigo’s hips jutted to a stop, half of himself inside you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Earlier in your relationship, both of you decided on his hero name as a safe word. There was a strict detachment between Keigo’s hero work and normal life, so much so that he detested being called Hawks in your shared home. 

It took another moment for him to understand what happened, the lust fogging his mind pattering away. “Shit, baby…” he slowly pulled the rest of himself out of your spent hole, your body flinching. “Songbird, are you okay?”

As much as you tried to speak, your tongue was like lead, throat filled with cotton. Your sobs sounded more akin to choked babbles. The tears dripping down your face was more than enough though to clue Keigo in. 

“M’sorry” You managed. “S-so sorry, I-i know ‘s your rut but-“

Keigo cut you off with a gentle kiss, his feathers swiftly taking over all your senses as he rolled you into his warm arms. “You did so good for me, love. You don’t need to be sorry. Doesn’t matter if I’m in rut or not,” he pressed another light kiss on the crown of your forehead, “your safety and happiness is top priority.” 

“I wanted to do good for you” you mumbled. “You always take care of me…just wanted to do the same…”

“And you did, songbird.” He titled your chin so he can gaze into you directly. His eyes were always sharp like daggers, but when you stared at him all you saw was his adoration. “I promise it’s not even a big deal. I don’t want you thinking that just because it’s breeding season that I can do whatever I want to you.” 

Keigo’s thumb worked to wipe away the remnants of your tears, cooing praise until the saturation made you giggle. Gentle kisses were frequently exchanged. He failed to mention how this time of the year made him extra doteful. 

“Here, let’s run you a bath, yeah? I’ll start it and fetch you some water, okay baby? You just stay there and be pretty for me, let me take care of you.”

[sailing-through-hawkins]

okay i originally wrote this for the steddie microfic challenge but failed epically when i realized i was way over the word count 〒▽〒 still i really like this so i'm gonna tag @wynnyfryd and hope you enjoy it regardless! it's set around steve's senior year i'd say idk

So here's the thing.

Eddie knows he's not supposed to be at the pool after-hours for like, security or whatever but -

But sometimes you drop one of your lucky guitar picks while watching swim practice (respectfully of course) and only realize it halfway through your Hellfire session, which means after-hours sneaking in it is.

And he expected to have to double back and bring Frank along to pick the lock but the doors aren't even locked.

Is this a good idea, Eddie thinks, to wander unsuspectingly into an unlocked sports facility frequented by assholes who would probably half-drown someone if they thought it'd be funny?

No.

But Eddie's always been down for bad ideas.

He sneaks his way in, barely makes a sound, and is immediately shoved up against the wall by -

"Munson?"

Steve Harrington.

"What -" Eddie chokes, Harrington's arm making for a heavy pressure on his neck that is definitely cutting off his air supply. "Dude -"

Harrington blinks at him, any sliver of that predatory gaze melting away, before letting go and stepping back. "Oh, sorry. You okay?"

Bent over, hands on his knees, Eddie tries to catch his breath and stare up at Harrington as incredulously as he can at the same time.

"Sorry, stupid question, right." Harrington rubs the back of his neck with a wince and Eddie - realizes he's shirtless. And wet.

"Are you - are you seriously swimming right now?" He coughs out, straining to keep his eyes up above that jawline. "In the middle of winter?"

The guy just shrugs.

What the hell.

"Also," Eddie stands up straight, crossing his arms with a squint, doing his best to hide the shivers racking up his spine. Harrington's eyes catch on something behind him. "What the fuck was that, man? Your first instinct at getting caught under the bleachers is to fucking jump people?"

No response from the King, who apparently finds Eddie's hair more interesting than a damn conversation, considering how fucking unfocused his eyes are. Probably just wants to get back to whoever he's sucking face with, the dick.

"Whatever, man, just let me find my shit and I'll get out of -"

"Here," Harrington says, swiftly taking Eddie's hand, leaving him zero time to react, and pressing his guitar pick into his palm?! He pushes Eddie’s fingers to curl over the pick, patting the fist gently. "Try to stay out of here after school, Munson. Shit gets dangerous."

"Wha - how - what the fuck?" Eddie snatches his hand back. He stares.

The pool water reflects across Harrington's face, a blue glow that makes him look...otherworldly. Ethereal, even. Brown locks of hair turned damp, stuck to his skin, framing his face and curling around his eyes that look too dark for the evening light, barely distinct from the dilated pupils they hold. Water drips down his nose, fingers, chest, audibly splashing onto the wet pool floor, echoing out into the empty space.

"What..." Eddie hesitates, looking back up at those deep, void-like eyes. "What are you doing here, Harrington?"

The guy smiles, tilting his head at Eddie, eyes half-lidded. "Go home, Munson."

He steps closer to Eddie, leaning in, flooding the air with an acrid smell, some combination of chlorine and smoke. He stares at Eddie, giving a small nod and smiles again.

There's no light reflecting off his eyes, Eddie realizes before he steps back, keeps stepping until his back hits the exit door.

Harrington waves a hand, fingers bending up and down one by one. "Try to stay out of the dark."

The door shuts in Eddie's face and he runs.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

hmm random but does anyone have any ideas or headcanons about what Adam and Jordan’s dynamic would be like?

[antirepurp]

perhaps considering the possible dynamic between shadow and sage. might be thinking about the implications of another person sharing his last name and occasionally flashing blue, before talking about her devotion to a force shadow actively opposes. glancing at eggman's off-handed comment wondering about the possible similarities between sage and maria before turning the intended takeaway of such line on its head, because to me maria was never a flawless angel and a beacon of purity and the abstract concept of good, but rather a sick child fed up with living in isolation under the watchful eyes of medical professionals.

shadow finding another mirror of maria in sage in the wrong place, in the cold and calculative eyes of a program that works to surpass her own code that holds her back

[mad-hunts]

i find it kind of interesting how jack's costume is actually partially modeled after a jester ( his mask has the typical 'horns' that extend out of a jester's cap, except they don't have bells on them most of the time because that would just be VERY inconvenient for him as a thief and they aren't really all that big at all. they just barely reach the crown of his head and then tilt downwards before the ends folds in on themselves. it's basically something that is not too flashy, but also kind of let's him express himself ) and his whole costume just in general exudes the air of a ' performer. ' the fact that he does wear a leotard as part of his outfit while on 'missions' just emphasizes this. though, it does serve a practical purpose as well, of course -- and that is to allow him free range of movement since he is contortionist. so, i think the fact that he has consciously made an effort to make it a bit ' fun ' does say something about his character and i know i have mentioned this before, BUT i haven't quite touched upon this yet.

jack has saved people before that he knew barton would've wanted him to kill because they 'saw too much' or whatever the case may be. anddd i think that this is jack's way of trying to 'make up' for some of the bad thing's he's witnessed + done nothing about, as well as make up for the bad thing's he's done, though realistically -- it's probably going to take a LOT more than jack saving some people to completely ease his conscience and he can never really wipe his hands clean of what's been done. but ehhh, i think that jack treating it almost like it's some sort of ' twisted performance ' in a way is a form of escapism for him, as sad and also concerning as that might sound 😬 but yeahhh. that's likely enough rambling about my favorite mathis family member for now LOL

[anthromimicry]

oh, but imagining the potential for warmth and also perhaps some humor in the scenario that misao decides she wants to try to cook something for someone she loves while they're over is currently making my heart happy. like i'm not going to lie — misao has honestly not cooked a day in her life since she just simply never had the need to, being a jorōgumo and all, but she would want to at least try to show she cares for them by attempting to cook their favorite dish or something whenever they're over at her home. and this would still apply to her even if she ended up completely failing at it at first because one of misao's love languages is acts of service. thus, of course she would want to provide them with something as integral as food. but GAHHH, picturing it from misao's loved ones perspective is also equally as sweet to me, because them guiding her on what to do while reassuring her that it's okay? and them eventually just deciding to cook together because misao may or may not get overwhelmed by the fact that she has such little knowledge about what to do because she wants everything to be perfect is... idk. it can be either incredibly romantic, or make for a very wholesome platonic moment between her and another character, which i LOVE

[elytrafemme]

one day i might want to make a master post with all of my AO3-user tips because (and this is a toxic trait of mine ik) i get REALLY irritated with a lot of ‘advice’ posts that just repeat the same basic information in a patronizing way without offering like... actually specific input. 

and i think ao3 as a whole is a relatively easy site to use you just gotta get the hang of it. in a sense i would really liken it to tumblr because one of the things about tumblr is that you can’t just join the site and then hit an explore page directly, that’s not really how this place works, you usually have to populate your dash with blogs. with ao3 it is significantly harder to just search up ships and works imo, it’s best if you already have favorite tags and how you do that is finding specific fics and then going from there and exploring in a branch off method. so once you use it for a while it’s extremely comfortable and remarkably convenient it’s just not really the easiest from the get go.

[no1ryomafan]

*sorting through my docs by deleting stuff, tiredly and procrastinating on doing finals when I have at least two assignments to write*

I sure love when I realize 80% of this shit is stuff that is not public. (I was gonna mention this sooner but getter fics have me in a choke hold that I cannot write ANYTHING ELSE please fucking save me)

[crystallinestars]

Just Confess Already!

A collection of drabbles about how your man's closest companions help him overcome his fears and finally confess his feelings for you.

Characters: Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Lyney, Itto, Childe, and Baizhu.

Now proofread.

Wriothesley:

🐺 Ever since Sigewinne saw you and Wriothesley in each other’s company, she instantly figured out you two liked each other. She knew you had feelings for the Duke because she has exceptional people-reading skills and could see right through you. You tried to hide your feelings from Wriothesley, but Sigewinne could tell how your heart raced when in his presence, the subtle heat in your cheeks and the secret glances you threw his way when you thought he wasn’t looking. Honestly, she might have thought you had a fever at first if these symptoms didn’t occur only when the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide was around. Since you hid your feelings, Sigewinne assumed that you weren’t certain if Wriothesley liked you back, to which the Fortress’s nurse could only shake her head because how can you not see he likes you?

🐺 Wriothesley knows your favorite tea blend like the back of his hand, and yet he constantly invites you to try out a new blend he made that he thinks you’ll like. Everyone knows how much the Duke loves tea, but surely you can tell that he uses the tea as an excuse to get you to stay longer and spend more time with him? Moreover, Wriothesley shows off more in front of you, trying to impress you with his extensive tea collection intellect, hospitality, physique—anything, really. Sigewinne could tell how his body language shifted to appear more confident, how his voice pitched a little lower to an almost sultry timbre, and yet despite his laidback smile, the micro-expressions on his face told her clear as day that he was nervous about interacting with you. Much like you, he hid his feelings because he wasn’t sure if you liked him. Even when Sigewinne tells him that you do like him back, the Duke doesn’t fully believe her, the idiot.

🐺 Once she gets fed up with watching the two of you pussyfoot around each other, Sigewinne comes up with a covert plan on how to get at least one of you to confess their feelings. She comes up with excuses to send you over to see Wriothesley (and as expected, he keeps you around longer than you intend), finds out what foods and flowers you like to pass that information to Wriothesley in a casual conversation (and suddenly you find your favorite snacks or flowers delivered to you from an unknown sender), and consistently eavesdrops on your pair to make sure things were going smoothly. As expected, her plan works like a charm and it doesn’t take long for Wriothesley to confess to you, much to the Melusine’s delight. Later on when she and the Duke have lunch together, she’ll congratulate him on his new relationship before smugly saying “I told you Y/N liked you too.”

Neuvillette:

⚖️ Neuvillette’s emotions were generally a mystery to most people, even to the Melusines working under him. However, all it took was for one Melusine to see the soft and tender look in the Chief Justice’s eyes when he gazed at you during one of your outings, and before long, every Melusine in Fontaine heard the news that their beloved Monsieur Neuvillette found a human to love. At first they were just rumors, but a few Melusines working at Palais Mermonia confirmed that the reclusive Iudex did indeed make time in his busy schedule to see you regularly. The evidence all pointed to the idea that Neuvillette and you must be lovers, because why else would the Chief Justice give you such special treatment compared to most other humans? Their assumption was almost correct. Neuvillette did indeed love you, but the two of you weren’t a couple.

⚖️ With this revelation, the Melusines begin approaching you more frequently than before, many of them greeting and congratulating you. When you ask them what they were congratulating you for, they only reply with “Why, on your engagement of course!” before skipping away to carry out their duties without giving you a chance to ask who you were supposedly engaged to. Your puzzlement persists until one day, when you were having your regular meeting with Neuvillette to relax over a cup of water tea, a Melusine approached your pair to congratulate you on your engagement to each other. You almost spat out your drink as the puzzle pieces fell into place, and could only watch with wide eyes as Neuvillette gently corrected the Melusine, telling her that you weren’t engaged before patting her head in comfort. Though he appeared his usual composed self, internally he was as flustered as you. Understanding her mistake, the Melusine sheepishly apologized before leaving to tell her sisters the truth behind your relationship.

⚖️ The news sadden the Melusines, but they figure that if the two of you aren’t together, then they can help you! In their eyes, both you and Neuvillette really liked each other based on how each of you behaved around the other. A few of them take it upon themselves to give you a little push by telling you all about how kind, gracious, just, and reliable Neuvillette is. He’s so amazing, surely you want to spend your life with a man like him by your side, right? As for Neuvillette, though Melusines aren’t experts on human courtship, they observed enough human couples to give the Iudex suggestions on how to court you. One Melusine recommends he give you flowers, and Neuvillette doesn’t have the heart to disappoint her, so one day he gifts you a bouquet of flowers while awkwardly avoiding your gaze. The process of getting you two together is a slow one, but once you finally become a couple after a long period of pining, the Melusines celebrate and congratulate you (this time for good reason), overjoyed to have helped bring your hearts together.

Kaveh:

🍷 Mehrak may be an artificial life form, but it can tell that its owner likes you. Like, really likes you to the point of doodling your image in his sketchbook, saving up as much money as he can to take you out to eat, and taking a ridiculous amount of time getting ready when he has plans to meet up with you. He has to look perfect for you, or so Kaveh told Mehrak. Having seen how infatuated it’s owner is with you, and also seen the lovestruck gaze you give the architect every time you two meet, Mehrak concludes that Kaveh and you must be a loving couple with how you pine for one another. But as time passes, Mehrak realizes that you two aren’t holding hands, hugging, or kissing like the couples it has seen do, and the sentient suitcase becomes confused. In its mind, you two are already together, so why aren’t you being as affectionate as it knows you want to be? Perhaps you two need a little push to get closer, it thinks, before it comes up with things it could do to help.

🍷 From there, whenever Kaveh designs new buildings, Mehrak will do its best to incorporate design elements it knows you like into Kaveh’s sketches. Kaveh knows what you like too, and easily recognizes your favorite flowers in the garden blueprints, fountains in the courtyard (because you said you like them), as well as your favorite vases and rugs in the interior blueprints. They’re not what Kaveh was planning, and he scolds Mehrak for deviating from his vision, but the little suitcase doesn’t stop. When it sees items or foods you like on display in the street stalls, it will fly over to them and give a cheerful chirp as if signaling Kaveh to buy them to give you as a gift. But out of everything Mehrak does, what flusters Kaveh the most is when it drags him to you. When Mehrak spots you in the distance, it grows excited and flies over to greet you thereby yanking the poor architect with it who can do nothing but hold onto his creation for dear life.

🍷 Mehrak’s efforts eventually pay off because there comes a point where Kaveh can’t stop thinking about you. He already thought about you a lot as evident by his sketches of you in his private notebook, but Mehrak’s actions served to constantly remind the architect of you and made him fall even more in love with you. It’s at this point that Kaveh gathers up the courage to finally confess to you. Mehrak couldn’t be happier to see the two of you together once you accept Kaveh’s feelings, even doing a little happy dance in celebration of completing its mission.

Tighnari:

🍄 Collei won’t know that her teacher likes you until one fateful evening when she heads toward Tighnari’s living quarters to ask him a question, and accidentally overhears him and Cyno talking about Tighnari’s romantic feelings for you. It comes as a surprise to her because she genuinely had no idea her teacher loved you. He didn’t seem to treat you any differently from anyone else, but that’s only because Tighnari does a really good job at keeping his feelings on the down low. Now that she knew, suddenly everything made sense. All the times Tighnari freed up his busy schedule to provide you help when you asked for it, the way he attentively listened to you and was the first to help if you got injured, his many gifts of various potions and plants that were good for your health, and even the fact that he frequently let you touch his ears and tail were all subtle signs of his affection for you!

🍄 With this new knowledge in hand, Collei schedules a day to hang out with you. Her main goal was to get your help with some of her reading materials since you often helped her when Tighnari was too busy, but her second reason was to ask you about your feelings for her teacher. When she works up the courage to breach the question, she gets the best answer she could have hoped for. You told her you really liked Tighnari, and Collei’s eyes practically sparkle in excitement. She respects your request to not tell Tighnari about your feelings, but unfortunately ends up breaking that promise, but not of her own free will.

🍄 When she tried subtly pushing Tighnari into courting you, she wasn’t as slick about it as she thought because her teacher is too perceptive, and Tighnari quickly found out what she was planning. The forest ranger confronted her about her strange behaviour, and Collei felt pressured to tell him everything. She tells him all about the conversation she overheard between him and Cyno, how his feelings for you were mutual, and about her good intentions to help you and him get together. Tighnari isn’t mad at her. If anything, he might thank her later for giving him this information, but not before giving her a talking-to about messing in other people’s business. Though her plans didn’t go as expected and she had to reveal your secret, in the end, things still worked out the way she hoped. After that fateful conversation, Tighnari sought you out to finally make his feelings for you clear, and Collei felt a sense of accomplishment at having done something good for the people she cared about.

Lyney:

🎩 Lynette knows pretty quickly when her brother develops a crush on you. The way he ekes out time out of his schedule to visit you regularly and his constant flirting are some of his tells. And if that wasn’t obvious enough, then the silly grin he wears while talking about you, and the magic tricks he designs and practices for hours on end just to impress you with are all Lynette needs to know that Lyney is down bad for you. Knowing about her brother’s romantic feelings, Lynette will tag along with him during some of his meetings with you to observe and get to know you better. She is pleasantly surprised to learn that you like Lyney back, and finds some amusement in watching the two of you grow flustered with each other’s flirting. Even so, she honestly would much rather not witness her brother flirting and trying to court the object of his affection since she finds it icky and feels like a third wheel.

🎩 Despite her reservations, Lynette does her best to support Lyney’s love life since she wants him to be happy. She watches Lyney’s feelings grow from a crush to full-fledged love over the passage of time, and the growing nervousness and anxiety that comes with it. Lyney spends a lot of time coming up with magic tricks to impress you with and practices them until they’re polished and come like second nature to him. Even so, he still gets really nervous about performing them for you, even doubting whether you’ll like them. That’s when Lynette comes in with words of encouragement and support to try and ease his nerves. If that doesn’t work, she tells Lyney point blank that you like him back. Had these words come from anyone else, Lyney wouldn’t have believed them. However, because it’s Lynette whom he knows is really good at reading people, Lyney believes her, albeit with a great deal of questions about how she can be so sure about her deduction.

🎩 Even now knowing you like him back, Lyney is still too nervous to confess, so Lynette changes tactics. She tries to give you hints about Lyney’s feelings for you, calling out his behaviour right in front of you by saying things like “You’ve never given me any Rainbow Roses, and yet give Y/N a whole bunch of them!” or “Lyney pulled a lot of all-nighters to try and perfect this trick just to show you”, much to Lyney’s dismay. Lynette does this in part because she likes to tease her brother, but also because she hopes you’ll get the hint and maybe confess your feelings first if Lyney won’t. Regardless of who confesses first, the end result will still be Lyney and you becoming lovers because Lynette can be a surprisingly good wingwoman. It brings a small smile to her lips to see the two of you happy in each other’s company now that your feelings are out in the open. All she wants is for her brother to be happy, and she’s glad that he can find that happiness with you.

Itto:

🐂 The Arataki gang had long been aware of Itto’s feelings for you, what with how frequently Itto talks about you and how he turns into an awkward, blushing mess when you’re around. Genta, Mamoru, and Akira decide to team up to concoct a series of plans on how to finally get you and Itto together, and agree that first Itto should try to court you to win your heart. They recommend Itto a bunch of romantic and affordable gifts he could give you, street stalls to take you to for delicious (and cheap) food, as well as the type of compliments Itto should say to flatter you (though all Itto can manage is “You have, uh… really nice hair!”). It's a whole operation the gang affectionately calls Operation: Helping Boss win Y/N’s heart. Shinobu has to keep a watchful eye on the proceedings of said operation lest her friends get carried away and start planning an expensive wedding before you and Itto even become a couple.

🐂 When Itto feels like it’s time for him to confess his feelings to you, he invites you to meet under a large sakura tree. The Arataki gang come along with him and sit in the nearby bushes to spy on the two of you. You’ll hear hushed “You can do it, boss! We believe in you!” from the bushes as the gang members encourage Itto and give him thumbs up. As much as Itto appreciates his boys’ support, now is not the time, he thinks as he looks at you with flushed cheeks, flustered by his group’s antics. Shinobu facepalms off to the side before dragging Mamoru, Akira, and Genta away to give you and Itto some privacy, but silently wishes him luck with his confession before leaving.

🐂 The gang eagerly awaits the results of the confession, feeling just as nervous as Itto. However, they don’t have to wait long because Itto’s loud whoop of joy soon reverberates through the area, indicating that you accepted his feelings. A little while later, the boys will throw a party to celebrate the occasion, splurging on some tasty food and drink, and congratulate Itto on finding love. Though they want to find love themselves, they’re still incredibly proud of their boss because they know the effort it took him to get to this point. Even Shinobu offers Itto a couple of words of congratulations. From then on, the gang will work hard to welcome you into their group and give you as much respect as they give Itto due to your status as his lover.

Childe:

🐋 From the way Childe talked about you in his letters, his younger siblings were convinced that you and him were already dating. Wanting to meet the person special to their big brother’s heart, they begged and pleaded with him to invite you over to introduce you to them. Once Ajax relents and brings you to meet his family, his younger siblings swarm you with questions about yourself and their brother, before Teucer enthusiastically asks when you’ll be marrying Ajax. You exchange awkward glances with Childe, and before the Harbinger can even attempt to resolve the misunderstanding, with a heavy heart you explain to Teucer that you and Ajax are not even dating (hearing that kind of hurts Childe, he won’t lie).

🐋 The expressions of shock and disappointment that Teucer and the rest of the younger siblings give you is honestly heart-wrenching and makes you feel a little guilty. “So, you don’t like big brother?” Teucer asks sadly. You correct him and admit that you do like Ajax, but you don’t specify exactly how. The children will pester you to tell them what kind of “like” you mean, but thankfully Ajax saves you from their badgering. Only Tonia figures out that your “like” is more of a “love”, but she is smart enough to not blab about your feelings to Teucer and Anton.

🐋 Despite their earlier disappointment, the children take a liking to you and constantly ask Ajax to bring you along on their family adventures or simply invite you to play games with them. During your hangouts, the children tell you about how Childe talks about you in his letters, basically ratting out his feelings for you much to Childe’s mortification. They also try to convince you to date their brother because, in their eyes, you two make a cute couple and Ajax looks really happy when next to you. The children won’t know if their words managed to convince you until the night when you and Childe were preparing dinner in their kitchen. Tonia and her brothers had a question they wanted to ask you, however as they approached the kitchen, Tonia overheard you and her older brother discussing your feelings for one another. With a smile, she quietly lead Anton and Teucer away to give you two some time to sort out your feelings, though she’s confident that by tomorrow you will be an honorary addition to their family, and perhaps a real member sometime in the near future.

Baizhu:

🐍 Changsheng can easily tell that Baizhu likes you. The doctor is always polite and cordial, but with you he acts especially sweet and takes time to have a casual chat with you when you come to pick up your medicine. Fed up with constantly seeing him giving you pining glances, Changsheng asks why he won’t just confess to you and get this pining over with, to which Baizhu retorts that he’s too busy to manage a proper relationship. He worries he would be too busy to give those he loves enough time and attention, but he also fears that you don’t feel the same way. His response and stubbornness frustrate Changsheng.

🐍 Her frustration continues to grow when she observes you and notices that telltale nervous and bashful behaviour of yours whenever you talk to Baizhu. You don’t behave that way when talking to Qiqi or Gui, and you also inquire about Baizhu’s health often, clearly worried about him. Clearly, you like him more than just as your doctor. Changsheng feels like screaming when the three of you are in the same room together, forced to endure watching both Baizhu and you pining for one another, yet not making a move.

🐍 One day, after seeing yet another exchange between you and Baizhu that’s full of hidden longing yet leads nowhere, her patience finally snaps. “Ugh, I can’t take it anymore! Why won’t the two of you confess that you both love each other? It’s so obvious!” she exclaims and slithers out of the room with a huff to cool off her temper. She caught brief snippets of you asking Baizhu if what she said is true, before going out of earshot. She fumes for a little while, grumbling about how foolish you’re both behaving before making her way back. To her delight, she glimpses your rosy cheeks and happy grin, as well as Baizhu’s relieved expression from behind the doorway, and realizes you two finally confessed. At long last, after all this time she thinks and sighs in relief. Changsheng decides to extend her break and come back later, wanting to give you and Baizhu a chance to properly sort out your newfound relationship. She hopes Baizhu is prepared for the long talking-to shell give him about dragging out this situation for so long, but until then, she’ll guard the entrance to the room to make sure no one interrupts you.

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[r1elle]

desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)

husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)

“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.

okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.

honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽

[cathnospam]

Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?

[justevelynnnn]

Drabble for a protective logan of a pregnant!reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of feral logan, childbirth..

A/N: ive had this prompt on my mind for a whileee however i don’t think this will have a follow up cause i got kinda lazy towards the end

- He knows before you do honestly. Strong sense of smell and all that jazz. But also he senses your heart rate slightly increase even though you’re not doing anything

- You smell different..almost…sweeter? At least to him.

- A week after he noticed you tell him how you missed your period and he just just looks at you and nods like “duh, you’re pregnant…”

- You still go to Jean to get an ultrasound and what do ya know, there’s a bun in the oven!

- Immediately after it’s officially confirmed Logan forbids you to go on anymore missions or really do…anything..

- Going out with Storm? Where? Why? No, no, no stay here it’s too dangerous out there..

- He didn’t let you lift anything, do chores, cook…

- Nope nope nope just stay there.

- As time goes on you get a bit annoyed but you’ll admit it’s cute seeing him like this.

- He cuddles with you every single night, arm protectively slung around your belly. He kisses it every night and then your forehead. He’s so soft with you..

- As your bump started to show he just couldn’t stop looking. He was surprisingly very excited to be a father. He was gonna raise this kid right. Protect them from any harm as much as he can. You included.

- He’s always been protective over you but now?

- One day, You were trying to reach something and Scott comes by, noticing you need help and walks over to help you reach whatever you want. Unfortunately for him, Logan saw this from around the corner and also saw how Scott gently touched your side as he helped you.

- Logan saw red. He snarls and then lunged at Scott and damn near bites him. Scott jumps back a bit, startled by the sudden feralness.

- “Don’t. Touch. Her. Again. Got it, Summers?” Logan growled angrily.

- Scott just nodded and then quickly left.

- You scolded Logan immediately after but Logan ignored you and just looked at you for any “marks”

- So after that no one was to ever touch you unless it was Jean doing a check up. Or another mutant if she couldn’t.

- Logan didn’t care. In his mind he was keeping you 100% safe. From harm..germs…whatever

- He’d make you wear his clothes so his “scent” would be on you and also because your clothes were getting too tight

- Whatever you craved, he’d get it.

- If you wanted water at 4am, he’s up and going to get it immediately, like he wasn’t just sleeping moments before

- Back hurting? He’s now a licensed massage therapist.

- Someone’s cooking food that’s making you gag? He’s going into the kitchen and scolding whoever’s cooking.

- That one was a bit embarrassing but they never really minded and understood you were pregnant

- After a while you started to become more and more out of breath so now you reallyyyy couldn’t do anything. You had to beg Logan to at least let you get some fresh air or something because staying in bed all day was not the answer even if your feet were swelling and you back was killing you.

- He’d walk with you outside as you talked about your day and he just listened. He’d ask about the baby and how you felt and how he felt about becoming parents

- He was more cuddly when you neared the end of your third trimester. Hugging you more, kissing you more, talking to your now huge stomach and rubbing it and feeling when the baby kicked

- You both didn’t know if the baby was gonna be a mutant or not or the gender or anything but just knew it was healthy and that was honestly enough

- You decided to deliver at the mansion because well, the hospitals nearby did not like or tend to mutants at all..

- You started getting braxton hicks here and there and you knew the baby had dropped. It was getting hard to move and the mansion was on edge. Logan especially.

- He’d pace around you as you groan and winced in pain but told him, “False alarm honey…just another hick..”

- But was it? What if it’s time? What if you two ignore this and then it’s too late? What if something is wrong and and-

- There was alot of calming Logan down now..reassuring you’re fine

- A week before you were due, you were thrown a baby shower.

- It was Rogues idea and everyone gave you a little something. Diapers, Toys, bottles…

- They had all your favorite foods from your pregnancy, even the super weird cravings

- You cried.

- Logan got mad when he saw you cry. “Who did this?? Why is she crying? Was it you, Summers? Why i outta-“

- You tell him you’re just very happy and emotional right now and not sad. And, no, Scott did nothing wrong so please put him down oh my gosh…

- It’s true you were very emotional and hormonal the whole time and you were so ready to be done

- A week later, in the middle of the night you got up to use the bathroom for the 5th time. Not wanting to wake up Logan over and over just to walk to the bathroom, you went alone, waddling to the door.

- The second you got there though there you immediately started leaking. And you would’ve been embarrassed of you didn’t immediately have the worst braxton, no….this wasn’t that…this was more…

- “Logan. Logan!”

- Logan jumped up and and ran over to you asking what happened and what’s wrong..

- You start to tell him and suddenly you’re hit again with another contraction

- It was time.

- Logan woke up everyone he could after getting you tot he medical room.

- He left the students be but it’s not like they couldn’t hear you yelling anyways

- He stood by you the entire time as you squeezed his hand and cried in pain. He almost growled at Jean hooking you up the machines but he knew it was to monitor if you and the baby were okay.

- He was so focused on you that he didn’t care for everyone crowding also but when it was time to push he barked for everyone to get back even Jean

- He let you squeeze the life out of his hand as you pushed and encouraged you the whole time and wiped your forehead

- And after several minutes of this chaos…

- “Congratulations…you guys are now officially parents!” Jean says as she holds the crying newborn baby.

- As she helped lay the baby on your bare chest, you and Logan just smiled at your child.