#and he was mostly very occupied with other more pressing matters

[anantaru]

DAY 12 — COCKWARMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — heizou, alhaitham, baizhu

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, tit play, teasing you to the brim like staaaaaahp, a sprinkle of brat taming because why not, mean genshin boys

𖧡 — HEIZOU

"ah- i could get used to this."

and needless to say, it feels good, largely to heizou though— especially when he shadows his skilled fingers over your bare chest because he knows it'll drive you insane, his hand slowly settling down on top of your breasts, squeezing and massaging the mounds before groping your tits, together with his cock slipping past the solidness of your slit— throbbing, pressing and stretching inside.

you cling to him for your dear life, the fulfillment of his erection jammed within the bounds of you swelling pussy, candidly battering your cunt when you attempt to press down on his hips, or perhaps move for that matter, instead whimpering sweetly as heizou stills your hips with a solid arm whilst the other pinches your aroused nipple and tugs on it ever so slightly.

you pout out deliberately, yearning for him so terribly you cannot help yourself but moan into his neck, "heizou.." you say, stumbling over your words, "don't tease me now.. please." and it's not necessarily something your boyfriend would consider teasing— especially since in his opinion, you should be utterly aware on how his real taunting looked like.

in the span of no time, it had gotten to the point where it became a game between you both, one which he would most likely end up winning the moment he shushes your cute sniffles with a kiss, idly shuffling in his seat before unintentionally (it was very much intentional) moving his cock and thrusting up hard against one cloying, pressing, spot.

"fuck— well, you faced worse before, haven't you?" his words, although dripping of artificial consideration, vibrate all the way from your pouty lips, to your sensitive nipples being played with, to your wet messy core slicking up his buried shaft, shortly gushing around it so much that a white, thick ring of whites took shape around the base of his cock— he’s still entirely buried in you, with that single thrust hitting you like a sudden hot fever dashing on top of your shoulders.

heizou continues to keep you pressed against his cock, one hand long since branding the flesh of your juddering hips— and it's almost bruising to you, long fingers plunging into the skin hard enough to make you wince out and beg again, only to be met with a cocked up brow, a wet smirk and an even deeper throb of his erection.

your quivering body was exceedingly past recovering by now and you helplessly swallow down a bubbling sob from your throat when he grinds inside you again, yet with barely any strength aiding the move— the stiffened veins of his erection melting with your walls that the combination of those very sensations heizou brought forth focused on intermittently inching you into madness.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

your thighs clamp against each side of alhaitham's hips while one arm freely closes around your waist, the last thing he'd want is for you to move and disturb his peace— whilst the other, well, was occupied in holding a book he was currently reading, adventurous eyes deciphering each and every little letter printed on top, eagerly memorizing and pondering about a much deeper, more crucial interpretation behind the portrayed story.

yet you're taking him just like he needed you to, raw and hard, while he barely gifts you any attention. ugh, some sort of punishment coming from the scribe? might be, but you knew alhaitham very well and that his mind simply wasn't wired that way, instead he probably thought that it would cost him far less effort to put two into one, pleasure and knowledge, as he referred to it, stitched together with both sides unable to slip past his grip.

it's mostly exhausting around your legs, specifically the insides of your thighs that began to stiffen and ache, forcing you to taste subtle early signs of lightheadedness from your desperate attempts to not move nor clench down on him so strongly.

another breathy gasp, and you let him know that you're obviously struggling with his cock being way too big and heavy to remain in that way without moving at the very least— a warm puddle of your arousal exuding from your hole and divulging at the foundation of his shaft, sending droplets of the mixture on the office floor.

"please, oh, please." you whine, suddenly flustered when you realize you just blurted those frenzied pleas out loud, establishing them right against the shell of his ears, his headphones since long disposed of and placed on the table next to you— whilst beyond questioning, besides the fact that alhaitham was wholly absorbed into the fantasy novel in his hand, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to listen to your short-lived whines, the cute weeps or the loud thuds of your heart beat reverberating against his chest.

"already?" he speaks softly before you meet his eyes, surprisingly enough his pupils were blown wide and you cannot even fathom this level of discipline when it probably hurt him too to not move at least an inch up and down your fluttering hole. "i barely started this chapter."

"then read faster!" you interrupt him, no, practically snap at him, nervously licking your lips as your hands run over his cheeks to make him kiss you, his raw erection throbbing at the bold move as he for once redirects his entire attention from that pestering, bothersome, annoying book in his hand that you would love to just dispose of entirely.

"okay, okay," the man shuffles around, "you better make it worth my time then." and he teases you, always, then drinks up a trembling moan that spumes up on your mouth as his quick tongue darts out to run around your lips and wet them with his saliva, your throat aching in excitement for what's about to come. 

alhaitham bites back a groan when you swiftly mould your walls over his cock, needful and slobbering your arousal once more— you're so soft there, ah, it never fails to amaze him. but to get himself on top of things again, most importantly to not lose himself in you, he traces your back up and down with his palm before teasingly rutting into your wet sex, it's barely perceivable to you and maybe that's what would ultimately tip you over the edge if alhaitham does not stop those cruel tactics.

although, pondering over his honesty, it's quite cute when you're frustrated and bitter because of a situation he put you in, or how much harder it was to stay disciplined in focusing on his book when a coat of a heavenly expression litters across your bristling cheeks— it just feels so dreamy to be inside you.

alhaitham might just look past the little shifts of your body that you sneaked between pauses, despite them offering you the tiniest teases and moments of friction on your overflowing hole, and yes, your leg muscles were screaming for some sort of pleasure, regardless keeping yourself still and happy to take his perfectly shaped length.

𖧡 — BAIZHU

you brace yourself, without further questioning settling on baizhu's lap before lining your slit up with his leaking cock— his pre like a translucent film sheer on top of the rosy tip.

and for the most part, this scenario appeared to be quite familiar to you— at the end of the day, your boyfriend could never be entirely satisfied when you ride him for hours, he needs it without pause. it warms his heart when you’re on top— as if you were somehow claiming him, his groans exuberant with lust, a velvet tune on your ears so exciting as you watch how he succumbs to the touch of being engulfed by a warm, soft cunt.

this time, although, something didn't align with previous scenarios— because the second you had pushed him in, touched up his shaft with your wetness, baizhu instantly places both hands on your moving hips, breathily laughing in both bliss and an ulterior emotion as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, your pretty noises almost making him decide against doing this right now.

of course, you try to lift your hips so you could bounce up and down, his cockhead snugly enclosed and piercing your swelling flesh as he spread you apart by his girth, your body desperately clinging against his chest and it's only then, when you realize what's going on, your hot, breathless moans garnering his gentle attention.

"uh?" you tilt your head to the side, then wince when his cock reaches impossibly deep and nudges over your sensitivity, the infused tingles of that singular drag holding you captive, intimately trapped within his arms, "ah— is something wrong?"

"no, nothing." baizhu coos, mouthing a wet spot over your jawline before slotting his lips over your own. you fall into a kind of daze when he keeps you strong against his thudding cock, your hands on his shoulders when you press your nails into the clothed skin, breathing deep, slow, at least trying but your attempts immediately fall flat when he offers your body some teases of friction.

"is something supposed to be wrong?" you're sweating at his words, your leg muscles screaming when you gaze at him through confused, widened eyes, "i- i'm not sure," you babble, the shivers in your lower area doing everything in their limited power to keep the pleasure going for as long as possible, anything to make you feel at least something but baizhu wouldn't let you.

"think harder, darling." he grins, letting the exposed warmth of your cunt wrap around his cock as he lifts you up, "is this better?" no, of course not, you panic, this was even worse and you whine at the lost fullness, leaning against him to wrap your arms around his neck, his cock head still nudging at your slit.

"it's not, it's not, it's not.." you can hardly move, and baizhu swallows down your mewls with a lick into your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip before smirking when he feels how you're rolling your hips, or at least, try— despite that, you're being met with strong resistance again, wondering how someone such as baizhu, who was perceived as a frail man, suddenly claimed such sturdy force in his arms.

"easy now.." he whispers cruelly, and you can practically taste his amusement on your tongue.

"maybe then "i'll move."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #heizou x reader #heizou smut #baizhu x reader #baizhu smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #kinktober #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

#bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #dbf!bucky #dad's best friend Bucky #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #ps!bucky #ps!dbf!bucky #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #becca writes spice #this was somewhat fuelled by 'If you're too shy let me know' #I promise I'm not this arrogant #but there's just something about being told how good you feel #I'm not getting into it #you probably get it #anyway #writing at the minute really feels like when you go for a drive and you have your music on shuffle #and you end up skipping every song #because you don't know what you want to listen to and nothing is hitting the spot #I'm looking to write something very specific to scratch a brain itch but I don't know what that is rn #it'll come to me #and in the meantime #I'll keep looking through the notes app on my phone at all my unwritten ideas

[thenanbakacorner]

Your pregnancy stuff is absolutely adorable it KILLS ME— Can we get the Cell 13 gang with their S/Os in the delivery room?? Like how they comfort their laboring partner and how they act during the delivery itself?? QwQ

LE GASP YESSS, pregnancy stuff is one of my fav things to writeeee—  I had to jump on this as soon as I saw it o(≧∇≦o)

* * *

🔓 Jyugo 🔓

Is flipping the fuck out before and when you first get to the hospital

He can’t believe it’s actually time..!

While waiting for you to fully dilate, the two of you mostly just talk, but he also brought along a few puzzles to keep you occupied as you wait

Sits up in the bed with you for some comforting cuddles as you watch the TV, carefully wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your baby bump through the contractions

Offers you to squeeze his hand whenever a contraction hits, and rubs your shoulder with his free hand to soothe you through the pain

Flinches, ooches and ouches when you squeeze his hand too tight, but cares more about your comfort and bears with it

Rubs your shoulder and, despite having a slightly shaky voice from his nerves, whispers words of reassurance to you

“I-it’s okay, Y/N.. I’m here, everything’s gonna be okay..”

His anxious tone makes it seem as if he’s the one who needs to be reassured

Paces around the room anxiously when not by your side for any reason, biting his nails and watching you like a hawk

Probably almost faints at some point during the actual delivery

Never lets go of your hand throughout the birth, no matter how tight you squeeze

Scared. So scared. He’s worried something might go wrong, but tries his hardest to keep a straight face for you

Then he hears the baby’s first cry. Instant tears.

Sobs as the two of you hold the baby together, keeping his forehead against yours as he murmurs how happy he is and how much he loves the two of you

He was so unsure and afraid of becoming a dad, but getting to actually meet his very first child.. it was an amazing feeling. More amazing than he could’ve expected.

🎲 Uno 🎲

Is very nervous when you go into labor, but also super hyped!

You’re going to get to meet your baby soon— how can he not be excited?

Lots of loving small talk as you wait for the delivery, and helps keep you distracted with magazines, card tricks, some videos on his phone.. anything he can think of to help.

Fantasizes with you about what your baby might look or be like. What eyes they’d have, their hair color, their gender.. so many possibilities!

Idly caresses your baby bump as you chat, baby talking it, overall being super sweet and loving

With the baby coming so soon, the two of you exchange name ideas back and forth, so you can eventually settle on the two chosen names for whether they’re a boy or girl

When it’s time to push, he’s right there beside you, holding your hand and coaching you along and comforting you

”That’s it honey, that’s it.. you’re doing so good.”

His thumb pets the top of your hand gently as he holds it, his other hand working on wiping your tears

Glances back and forth between your face and the doctors further down, anxiously watching and listening for any change

He’s doing a good job at hiding it, but during the actual labor, he gets pretty anxious. He hates seeing you in pain and feels bad for it

Supportive as can be throughout the birth, gently cheering you along, holding your hand tight, whispering comforting words..

When the baby cries for the first time he perks up, eyes wide and he lets out a breath of awe when he first catches sight of the baby

So in love the second the two of you hold them, a warm smile on his face as he admires the life you created and murmurs words of affection and admiration

🍩 Rock 🍩

Super worried and never leaves your side, nor lets go of you as you rest in the bed

Presses gentle kisses to the back of your hand and murmurs comforting words to soothe your pained cries

Constantly checks in on you, asking if you’re okay, if you need anything..

If you get hungry at all during the wait, he’ll head down to the cafeteria or out to get you some fast food

As you eat, he rubs your shoulder and you exchange some light conversations, keeping you distracted the best he can

Sits closer to the bed and lets you lean your head against his chest or shoulder, rubbing the opposite side of your head comfortingly

Puts on some TV shows- probably something to do with food- for you to watch and distract yourself with as you wait

Constantly asks the doctors if they think it’ll be time soon, he just hates seeing you in pain- and just wants to meet your baby already- and wants it to be over with

When the time does come, he’ll help you through some breathing exercises, let you squeeze his hand as tight as you need..

Pretty quiet through most of it other than some words of encouragement and comfort, and his eyes are glued on your face, making sure you’re alright

Wipes your tears with his free hand and kisses your cheek comfortingly

Never looks away until he hears the baby cry. Turns his head so fast to look that he’s lucky he didn’t get whiplash

Nervous about holding the baby for the first time. They’re.. so tiny compared to him, he doesn’t want to hurt them on accident!

But when you do convince him to hold them, he’s so gentle and considerate, and starts crying when the baby looks up at him

Vows to protect the little angel with his life right then and there

💊 Nico 💊

Panic.

Just, panic.

Of course he’s super excited, what with the baby on the way, but.. he didn’t think it would be this painful for you!

All over you as you lay and wait no matter how much you reassure him that you’ll be fine

”Oh my gosh oh my gosh, Y/N, are you gonna be okay?! S-should I call the doctor?!”

Sits in bed with you and holds you close, comforting any pained cries you make and cuddling you, kissing you, petting your baby bump..

Begs the doctors to just take your pain away already— he can’t stand to see you in pain like this cause of him!

The calmer you are, the calmer he is

Once he’s done having his little freak outs, he distracts you with physical affection, playing games on his console.. tries anything he can think of to take your mind off the pain

When you start pushing he holds your hand tight with both of his own and is kinda shaky as he comforts you through it

Constantly asks the doctors if the baby’s almost out, kind of like a kid asking their parents “if they’re there yet” while on a car trip

Can’t help but cry along with you

If you’re in pain, he’s in pain

But, oh, his sympathetic tears are nothing compared to his happy tears when he hears the baby’s first cry

All the happy sobs as he praises you for doing so well and showers you in comforting, congratulatory kisses

So impatient to hold the baby and just won’t put them down once he gets his hands on them

So. Much. Baby talk. It’s friggen adorable as he coos at and plays with the baby, wiggling his fingers in front of their face and giggling along with them

#nanbaka #canarical nanbaka #nanbaka headcanons #nanbaka x reader #nanbaka imagines #jyugo #nanbaka jyugo #nanbaka nico #nanbaka uno #uno nanbaka x reader #uno x reader #uno nanbaka #uno #jyugo x reader #nanbaka jyugo x reader #jyugo nanbaka #rock #nico x reader #nanbaka rock x reader #nanbaka rock #rock nanbaka #rock x reader #nanbaka nico x reader #nico nanbaka #nico #nanbaka uno x reader

[breitzbachbea]

25 fruk kiss ?

30 sicire kiss ?

I feel like both are classics for the respective ships but what can I say I love reading the same thing over and over when it comes to fiction :D

NEVER TOUCH A RUNNING SYSTEM!!! IF IT AIN'T BROKEN DON'T FIX IT! That being said, after the day I had in Lecce, I could totally see this swapped, though. Michele and Harry sucking face while Catania is flooded. Doesn't even need to be rainy Ireland. For the latter I have to inquire with my sister, who went to South France for her holiday.

50 Kiss Prompts

FrUK - Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

"Seriously, going outside without an umbrella?! Are you mad?!" Arthur ranted after they had fled into the nearest Métro station, which was packed due to everyone else having the same idea. "If anything, I would have expected you'd take one because you're afraid of your hair being messed up by the rain! Are there any brains in that STD-raided brain of yours?!"

Some bystanders were looking at them, but François was used to it at this point. He just beamed, even though the embarassment of the situation - the situation mostly being Arthur's non-existent filter - still there in the quirk of his eyebrows. "I'm very glad to spend the weekend with you, too, mon chéri."

Arthur still glared at him, his briefcase above his head. "I'm seriously considering going straight to Dover via Calais. At least that tunnel is dry!"

François sighed. Instead of escalating their argument further, he cupped Arthur's face - wet skin on wet skin, cold fingers on warm cheeks - and leant in to kiss him hello. He could feel the other pout against him and chuckled, but at least Arthur didn't refuse him.

"We definitely have to change clothes once we're home," François said and now Arthur, ironically, blushed even harder. "Don't plan on spending the weekend with a cold."

Arthur lowered the briefcase, which still dripped from its corners, much like a few of his wheat-golden strands of hair. "Yes, me neither," he said.

François wrapped an arm around his shoulder, which Arthur eyed with a frown, but the blush stayed the same until he spoke up again: "Because if we're sick, how will I be able to kiss and cherish you all weekend!"

He leant in closer, while Arthur's cheeks radiated enough heat to probably dry him within minutes. "Although, if we're both sick, then I suppose it wouldn't matter and I could kiss you all the time, anyways." With that, he cupped one of the wet, warm cheeks and pressed a loud kiss - he made a kissing sound at the top of his throat, to make sure - to his other cheek. He could feel and taste the faintest hint of cold rain water.

"I'll trip you onto the tracks, then your concerns won't just be limited to this weekend," Arthur said as he stared straight ahead, across the tracks and to the métro station's other side.

He was fascinated with how red his ears were. So he laughed and made no show of releasing Arthur, who clung to his briefcase as if his life - or more accurately, his honour - depended on it. "But chéri, you will only make more concerns for yourself this way. Since if I am gravely injured, I will need someone to take care of me - and you wouldn't leave such a task to my poor Maman and Arielle and Désirée, would you?"

He laughed while Arthur's lips pressed into a thin line and he was surprised that neither steam was shooting out of his ears nor that the rest of the rainwater simply evaporated off of him.

He thought about extending the list of potential caretakers by dragging the Scots into it, but was sure that this could actually end with him on the tracks. So instead he smiled and patted Arthur's other cheek before he put his hand on his chest. Sadly, the other was too layered up to feel his heartbeat. "No, you wouldn't, mon lapin, so let's just get to my appartment, change out of these clothes and occupy ourselves with more pleasant activities for this evening. There's a lovely little restaurant that opened up around the corner, trés chic, so I could make a reservation, if you'd like."

It took a few more laboured breaths, but then Arthur deflated. "Yes, sounds good," he said. When François put his hand back onto his cheek to turn his face, he said: "Oh, you can't be helped, can you?", but answered the kiss to his lips.

SicIre - Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

By this point, Harry was doing himself no favours. With the amount of times he kissed Michele's neck, the sweat he licked up must have dried his throat out.

"Beddu ..." Michele said and moved his head to the side. They sat in the shade of his terrace, on the cold stone tiles. Harry leant against the wall, Michele in his lap. Next to them on a tablet were the granite Michele had made them.

Harry tried to speak, but as predicted, his voice gave out. Michele lifted one of the glasses up and helped but the straw into Harry's mouth, who greedily sucked up the thick sugar crystals infused with lemon juice.

Once they had been finished weeding the fields and Michele had done some emergency repairs on an eggplant, because Angelo's chicken would have been able to break out and into the fucking aula bunker of the Ucciardone, Harry had ditched his shirt, shoes and socks in the shade. Michele had followed suit with the shirt, so that his back and Harry's stomach now stuck together.

"Thanks darling," Harry said after he had released the straw and Michele looked at the pitiful rest of granita with a raised eyebrow. He put naughty thoughts about Harry's sucking strength aside like the glass and picked up another one to cool himself down.

It was too hot for naughty thoughts anyways. With the way that the walls enclosed his property, there was barely a rush of wind to cool them down, not to mention that the further away one got from the seaside, the more oppressive the heat.

Thusly, once Michele released the straw and turned his head to look at Harry, they only managed pecks on each other's lips. They turned their heads sometime and every now and then a tongue darted out to swipe across lips and prod the tip of the other's, but everything else seemed like too much work.

"Mhm, are those strawberries?" Harry asked after one such playful meeting of tongues. He licked his own lips.

"Mhm," Michele hummed in agreement and put the straw back between his lips to suck up more of the strawberry granita. It was unclear if Harry's hazy, yet desirefilled stare was related to the granita or naughty thoughts that involved Michele's mouth.

"Knock yourself out," he said. "That's why I made so many." He put the straw to Harry's mouth, who blissfully closed his eyes and made short work of the granita.

Michele softly kissed the pulsing cheek, his lips barely brushing skin and more the fine hairs and the faintest traces of an emerging five o'clock shade that Harry would have to shave tomorrow.

~*~

The Ucciardone, properly the carcere dell'ucciardone, is a high security prison in Palermo. The aula bunker is a court building on its premises which had specifically been constructed for the Maxi Trials of the late 80s and early 90s, which saw nearly 500 mafiosi on trial.

#beareplies #riva #aph #hetalia #hws #aph france #aph england #aph ireland #aph sicily #hetalia oc #hws france #hws england #hws ireland #hws sicily #fruk #sicire #storie nostre #arthur #fran #miche #harry #mhm granita ... it was daylight robbery but my nighttime walk with the maulbeeren one ... I really miss proper nightwalks ... #when I get back to Puglia I'll plan to do some there. bc when i get back it will hopefully be warm enough for those shenanigans #still enjoyed my time there but man I wish I had less stress and this had been better planned out ... oh well. at least I was in italy! #and I even had more time than i had in Palermo so what am I complaining about #i just traded nighttime walks for trainrides which were a lotta fun and I saw the olive trees bloom ... magical.

[lettersbydahlia]

skinny love: two people who have very strong feelings for each other, but are too shy to show it

♡ izuku midoriya x gn!reader (they/them prns)

♡ childhood best friends to lovers, mutual pining but they're both idiots, tiniest bit of angst but mostly fluff

♡ requested by my shawty bae @avocadotoast511 !!

♡ fic is mostly in lowercaps, roughly written + not beta'd since i've been having a bit of writer's block so srry if it's not good :(

when IZUKU’s friends first met you, they genuinely believed you two were a couple. several reasons led them to this assumption: one being that Izuku never specified what you were to him. his best friend or his girlfriend? who knows. two, both of you are always touching each other. it didn’t matter where, when, or how, but there was almost never an instance where your guys hands weren’t on each other. 

whether Izuku was holding your hand, hugging you, or rubbing your back. or whether you were sitting on the boy’s lap, kissing his cheek, or ruffling his hair. you two practically act like an elderly couple that have been together since high school. there’s an aura about your two’s relationship that exudes love: unconditional and everlasting. a type of love that screams we’re more than just best friends. lastly, three: the way Izuku looks at you. the way his eyes grow soft the moment he sees you, or at the slightest mention of you. 

however, things in the present situation are so, so different. when asked, Izuku will state that you two are just childhood best friends. nothing else and nothing more. maybe he’s violently blushing when asked (he will constantly deny this) but the green-haired boy stands firm on his statement. but Izuku’s friends know better: they know him better. they are one-hundred percent sure that both of you are madly in love with each other, but neither of you will admit it. 

which leads to the current situation: U.A,'s spring dance is coming up and everyone except Izuku has a date to the dance. this, of course, means all his friends are determined on getting him a date: you. 

»»♡«« 

“you need to ask them out, Deku!” Uraraka with a smile, and he struggles to smile in return. 

“for sure. i bet y/n knows we have a dance coming up and is just waiting for you to ask them out,” Kirishima’s tone is confident and assured, and it terrifies Izuku, because the redhead is nothing but honest. Denki nods encouragingly and gives him a thumbs up, which only makes him more anxious. 

“y/n’s just my best friend, guys. they don’t like me that way…” it sounds more like a question than a statement, and Izuku swallows thickly. you don’t like him that way- right? right? he groans and flops on his bed, back hitting the sheets. Izuku’s not even sure of what he’s saying. 

»»♡«« 

it’s the weekend and per custom, Izuku is back home with his mother. in addition, you’re in his bedroom. your legs are swinging back and forth as you vaguely scroll through your phone, while Izuku works on his homework at his desk. it’s a routine you two have become comfortable with: occupied with differently entirely things while basking in each other’s presence. knowing he’s reached this level of comfort with you makes him think there’s a chance your feelings for him are more than platonic, which gives him the confidence he needs to mention the spring dance. after a minute or two of silently hyping himself up, he reluctantly drops his wooden pencil and rises from his desk, taking a seat next to you. you don’t raise your head but briefly hum in acknowledgement. 

“so… U.A. is having a dance soon,” Izuku scratches the back of his neck and stares at you. your eyes lift from your phone’s screen and his heart skips a beat.

“oh, really? that sounds lovely. who are you going with?” your phone is carelessly dropped on your lap and your hands are wrung together. Izuku’s heart races as he swipes his tongue over his lips.

“mhm. i’m thinking of asking Uraraka to the dance,” he falters, wondering how you’ll react. you slowly nod, lips pressed together into a tight-lipped smile.

“Uraraka…the brunette with the floating quirk, right?” Izuku nods and he feels deflated at your reaction. he had the tiniest of hopes that you would react differently, that you would speak up and say how you feel, but your reaction is nothing what he hoped and everything he had feared. 

“that’s nice, i’m happy for you. you would make a cute couple,” i don’t want to be with her, he wants to say. i want to be with you. but Izuku holds in the words and nods, chest aching. 

“thank you.” his voice is embarrassingly tiny and he flinches as you abruptly get up from his bed, body rigid and smile looking too forced. 

“i…i have to go. i forgot i have something to do- i’m sorry. see you later, Midoriya.” you leave before he can even say goodbye. it only dawns on him a few minutes later, that you didn’t hug him goodbye and that you called him Midoriya. and his heart hurts more than he’d like to admit. 

»»————-　♡　————-«« 

“y/n! y/n!” you definitely hear him, perking up for a second. then you keep walking forward and don’t even look back. Midoriya huffs. a few of your classmates stare at you as he weaves through the crowd, hearing whispers of ‘u.a.’ and ‘deku!’ he ignores them until he reaches you, hand landing on your shoulder. you spin around, eyes wide. 

“what are you doing here?” your voice is low, eyes darting around. you know the crowd he's gathered, and you don't like it. you fiddle with your backpack straps and he sighs. 

“you’ve been avoiding me for days and you haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls. what’s wrong? did i- did i do something wrong?” he starts to stammer, hands moving with his words. you’re staring at him silently, before you sigh. you turn and walk away, as if you had never acknowledged him. Izuku’s heart clenches and he follows you, but your speedwalking turns into jogging and eventually you’re running, and he’s running after you. it’s a bit humiliating, he thinks, having to chase you down when you’ve been ignoring him for almost a week. but you’re his best friend, and he can’t let you go. 

soon enough he’s caught up to you- running has never been your forte. you’ve been running for a few blocks until you’ve both reached your house. he wraps you in a tight hug, refusing to let go even as you struggle and squirm. 

“what-what are you doing!?” you struggle and kick your feet, but your strength is no match for his. it makes Izuku aware of how much he’s changed. only a few years ago, you were the stronger one that chased off his bullies. “i swear to god, Midoriya, if you don’t let me go…” he shakes his head. 

“not until you tell me what’s going on,” you stiffen and slowly meet his gaze. Izuku gulps but maintains eye contact despite his racing heart. 

“nothing’s going on, i’m fine! i just had a busy week, that’s all. didn’t have time to text you back.” he scoffs, shaking his head. after all these years of knowing each other and you’re still a terrible liar. 

he sets you back on the ground, and you shake your head while straightening your uniform. he’s staring at you throughout it, and when you’re done you meet his gaze, brow furrowed. you’re trying to act nonchalant, but he can see right through your act. sees your firsts clenched, your left foot tapping rapidly. he can spot a drop of sweat rolling down your forehead. it’s almost comical how easy he can read your body language but not your mind- not what you’re thinking. it’s both amusing and frustrating. 

“why are you lying?” his voice is low, and he feels every suppressed emotion break through. “you’re a bad liar. i’ve texted you every single day, called you once or twice, saw you post on social media- you weren’t busy. you were avoiding me. please…just tell me why.” his posture slumps in defeat, chest feeling tight and eyes watery. he’s so scared to lose you but doesn’t have the guts to say it out loud. “please, just-,” 

“-i love you.” you cut him short, chest slightly heaving. “i’ve loved you for so long, don’t you see? i’m in love with you, Izuku. i can’t be a good friend and stay at your side- i won’t do that to myself. i can’t stay to watch you fall in love with someone else. i’m sorry… i can’t break my heart for yours.”

his jaw slackens and his heart skips a beat. “..what?”

you roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not declaring my love for you again, Midoriya. i think..” you falter, eyes lowering to the ground. “i think you should leave.” 

you turn to head into your house, but Izuku grabs your wrist before you can take another step. your eyes widen but you stay still, waiting for him to talk.

"i-i never knew you felt the same way...” he licks his lips, and your mouth parts open. “i’m an idiot,” he laughs before scratching the back of his neck, gently releasing your wrist. “i thought if i invited Uraraka and told you…” he pauses, snorting. “i think it was the worst idea i’ve had so far. i thought if i invited Uraraka you would’ve gotten jealous and told me how you felt,” he says lamely, wanting to shrink himself. 

you’re silent for a moment, jaw clenched. Izuku gulps and feels his palms get sweaty. you sigh, shaking your head, and his heart sinks. you launch yourself into his arms before he can react, hugging him tightly. your face is smothered against his chest as you speak. 

“you’re such an idiot, Izuku.” 

“i am?” he slowly wraps his arms around you, feeling confused as ever. you nod, and the two of you stand in silence until he clears his throat and speaks up. 

“so… does this mean you’ll be my date to the dance?”

“..what about uraraka?”

“oh, that was a lie. she’s going with my friends.” 

you slap his forearm and he yelps. 

“ow! what was that for?” he mumbles while rubbing the sore forearm. you grow quiet and when he meets your gaze, you’re already looking at him. your lips slightly part open and his eyes fall to your lips. yours do too, and he gulps loudly. his heart beats quicker the longer he stares at your lips.

“Izuku?”

“mm?” it’s an unconscious response, his attention on your lips unwavering. 

“why don’t you stop staring at my lips and kiss me instead?” 

his face grows warm and red, a nervous laugh escaping his throat. but your face is serious and his heart skips a beat. 

“are you sure? I don’t want to make you-,” your lips are on his before he can finish the sentence, hands gripping the collar of his shirt. he’s frozen for a second, before he melts into the kiss. your arms go to the back of his neck and his hands slide to your waist. his heart feels like it’s about to explode, body warm and lips smiling against yours. you pull him closer, and Izuku thinks he can die happily in your arms. 

a/n: tbh i started this w a lot of energy but then i got busy w life and didn't finish the fic so when i got back i lowk lost inspiration </3 but if you did enjoy lmk LOL do rb + comment if you did <3

#♡ mha #dahlia's writing #mha x y/n #mha x you #deku x reader #deku midoriya #deku x you #deku x y/n #deku x gn!reader #midoriya izuku #izuku fluff #izuku x you #izuku x y/n #izuku x gn!reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x gender neutral reader #midoriya x y/n #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #childhood best friends to lovers #reader insert

[ponds-of-ink]

And now, for something completely different: A (Mostly?) Original Haunted House One-Shot

TL;DR: Listened to a couple of hours of extra Haunted Mansion lore and now I’m here wanting to try my own spin. Enjoy the much shorter-than-expected piece?

–

Hey, you.

Yeah, you. The kids straggling through my neck of the woods.

You want a good place to get a scare?

Try the old Heartland house up on that hill over there. That place’ll send chills which could rattle your spine like a xylophone.

..I’d ask if you don’t believe me, but I can’t see your faces that well. Pretty dark here, even with your fancy flashlights.

Welp, may as well tell you my own story anyway. You kids look like you’re about to join those ghosts up there the moment you fall asleep. Sit down. Rest a while. Ol’ Jebediah will make sure you stay awake.

It was back in the days when cars were sharp and music swelled with passion. Maybe a bit too much passion, at times, but nobody really cared.

One night near Halloween, I was walking down this very same path. With the very same thoughts you were thinking, as a matter of fact. “Boy, I wish I could get a good ghost story to tell my friends during Trick or Treating,” I said to myself. “Then maybe I’ll be the talk of the neighborhood. Maybe I’ll even be called the bravest boy in all of Westerfield!”

’Course, my bones were shaking from the idea of ever setting foot in that house. I could take a strange fella in an old hat and cloak whisking me away or some pumpkin-head jumping out in front of me. But ghosts in a mansion that was just a few miles out from my own home? Phew. Poor lil’ Jeb couldn’t handle the thought.

But I tried to keep going. I pressed on through the brush, praying that some other monster tried to snatch me before the ghosts did. Even Mr. Hyde was a better option than the fiends occupying my mind.

After a few more minutes of fumbling around, I wandered into something. Something I’m not entirely sure is still there, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it still stands to this day.

A pair of two stone pillars with the name of “Harlan” scrawled in iron between them.

Since the name didn’t really ring any bells, I squeezed past the half-open gates and just waltzed on in. Overgrown rose bushes gave a bit of color, but it was all dark and foggy in that place. No storms, though, if you were thinking it was one of those nights.

Things got stranger as soon as I entered the place where the fountain stood. The water in that thing was a bright blue-green. Like a working neon sign with no lightbulb in sight. I was going to ponder about how this could be, but something else caught my eye: A statue of a rabbit, curly-haired and floppy-eared, sitting beside a plaque. I thought it was a little pet memorial at first, but then I read the sign– Though some of the words were scratched out.

“For Will ––

19–– to 1983

You made us laugh ‘til grief took hold...

...May this bunny set you free”

I knew that this little poem must’ve had more to it, but that last line made me uneasy all the same. I sat down on the fountain’s edge to think it over. “There’s no way that this little fella’s got some clown’s ghost inside,” I told myself. “How would it even make people laugh if it’s just standing still?”

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Ol’ Will’s statue move.

It was slow at first. A little wiggle to the left here. A little shift to the right there.

But as soon as I sprang up from my spot? Boy, was he hopping like a real rabbit. He got closer and closer while I ran faster and faster. Heh, I would’ve crashed into the house’s side windows if they didn’t look like big, black voids!

...Right. You’re here for the scares. Gotta get that drilled into my noggin.

Well, Will wasn’t the only scare I had that night. In fact, as soon as I stumbled into that house, I was greeted with my second spook of the evening: A music box being wound by a pale woman dressed in white. We stared at each other for a good minute or two. I tried to sputter out something, but the dame just stared like a deer. Can’t really blame her, since I barged in on her music recital of sorts.

“S-Sorry, Miss Polly,” I finally squeaked out, remembering a local tall tale about her. “I, uh, don’t mean to interrupt your song and dance, but I just got away from a really creepy rabbit. Do you know a way out that doesn’t involve messing with that thing?”

Polly tilted her head and kept it there. I shook at the change, but tried to stay brave. “You don’t know any other way out?” I asked her.

She just leaned her head to one side even more. It was cocked to the side so much that I could even see the stitching ‘round her neck.

I looked away from the awful sight, but I noticed an open doorway. “Thanks,” I said as I backed away into the next room. “You have a nice night.”

Polly just kept on playing her music, which was good enough for me. She sure was pretty (and her story sure was sad), but boy she was unsettling.

The foyer of the house was decayed and all sorts of grimy. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall through the floorboards while I struggled to open the door– And I mean struggled. I had to wander around that house for an hour just to find the key after that. The dining room had floating silverware that looked like it was going to poke you if you made one wrong move. The kitchen wasn’t much better, with all the food that glowed much like the fountain out back. I even tried to take a bite just to see what it tasted like, but it turned into mist right before my eyes. And the attic...

...Hang on now. I just thought of something. The rest of my story won’t make sense to you not-Westerfield folks. Pretty Polly and the rest of the Harlans are local legends. Legends that you gotta dive into almost two centuries of stories for. And, truth be told, y’all don’t seem like you’re in for that kinda story. Especially since I’m supposed to be telling it like I understood it back then.

So I’ll make sure an hour of my time isn’t an hour of your time. All you need to know is that Lil’ Jeb found the key up there and booked it back to the foyer. Sure, there was the entire Harlan family tree following close behind, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t quite get the reason back then either. All I could catch was something about “never leaving their manor alive” above all the other angry goings-on. To be honest, I was just happy to be back outside and free to run back home.

...Oh, and Ol’ Will? Well, he wasn’t related to the Harlans at all. Turns out he was a favorite guest of the last real owners of the house. Guess the Harlans decided to turn that last phrase into a challenge. Thinking back now, I guess the little fella was actually the tamest out of all of ‘em. Maybe I should go back up there and apologize sometime..

But not tonight. It’s too foggy, even for me. Y’all can take this old rambler’s word for it, or y’all can go find something a bit more thrilling. Either way, I’ll be here warming up by the fire.

Happy travels..

#haunted house #one shot story #spooky vibes #(hopefully) #the Harlan house #had to cut this really short due to time constraints #gotta go to bed #feel free to try to figure out the backstories while I’m asleep #might come back to this in October I dunno

[heartofspells]

I’m in withdrawal of HE James and Sirius, I’m so desperate for a lil snippet of some James and Sirius friendship with some angst in there but I’m struggling to think of something you haven’t already done, is there anything you can think of from HE? 💘💘💘💘💘💘

Oh, hello. I like you very much. James and Sirius in almost any universe are sublime and one of my favorite things, but there's something special about them in HE and I'm so happy someone else pines for them the way I do. And I've got the perfect thing for you.

Another outtake from At the Healing Edge of Broken, taking place roughly five months after the end of the main story. Enjoy! <3

"Christ," exhales Sirius just to express his complete unhappiness before he falls backwards across the end of his bed. It bounces and shudders beside him a moment later, James' warmth pressing along his side as his friend collapses. Sirius squints acerbically at the ceiling. "This is the reason I'll never have kids," he grumbles.

"Oh, really?" demands James in exasperation, hand flailing between them, but the motion is weak, exhausted. "This is the deciding factor, is it? This situation and only this?"

"…yes." But Sirius pouts. "All right, well. Possibly there are other reasons and possibly that's not a reason at all."

"And possibly you're full of shit," finishes James mulishly.

"Possibly," agrees Sirius, huffing out a frustrated breath, still glaring at the ceiling. "You'd think she'd figure it out at some point, that we're no good at this bath business. Evans. She's bright. Harry does us in every time. Personally, I think she's watching our every move through a camera and laughing herself to a stroke every night we try."

James groans, throwing his hands over his face. "She's my wife, Padfoot," he moans, pulling a grin from Sirius. "We're still married. Will you ever stop with the Evans?"

"Possibly not."

"Possibly not," echoes James, his hands falling with a hollow sort of thump to his chest. "Right. Fucking hell, you're the worst."

"I have the love letters from you that prove that's a lie," tosses out Sirius, snickering when James grunts, but Sirius' amusement fades quickly as his body sags over the mattress and he's reminded of how tired he is. "Christ, I still have so much to do and now I've spent two hours wrestling a kid into bath and bed. I don't want to do any of it."

"Where's the rush?" levels James, a weight Sirius doesn't want to look too closely at inside his words. "Is the flat going anywhere? Is he?"

"No," denies Sirius quickly. "No, 'course not. It's just…"

He sighs, trailing off, his eyes shifting around what he can see of the room he's occupied longer than he's ever occupied anywhere in his life that's mattered at all. The walls are mostly bare now, only a few odd things still hanging that he needs to remove. Boxes tower in small, haphazard stacks, scattered around the space, some of them already gone, filled with the least necessary of things, moved weeks earlier when the process had first started.

"Padfoot," says James quietly, calmly. Sirius twitches with it, can feel his friend's hazel eyes burning into the side of his face. "It's okay to be scared, you know?"

"I'm not scared," pushes out Sirius gruffly, words quick and sharp.

"Okay." James doesn't shift his gaze away, and Sirius exhales a slow, stuttering breath, finally turning to look at the other man, James' mouth quirking up into a small smile.

"I'm not scared," repeats Sirius firmly, James nodding like he understands, and Sirius thinks he probably does. "I'm not, but it's hard to imagine not being here more often than I am. How does that work, Prongs?"

James stares at him in contemplative silence for a minute before he says, "I'm not sure, Pads, but we'll figure it out. Same as we always do, yeah? If this is what you want, we'll navigate. No one's been able to tear us apart for over sixteen years. We're not going to let something as silly as you finally deciding to grow the fuck up do it now."

Sirius releases a scoffing sound, kicking out gently with his foot, connecting with James' ankle. "Piss off, Potter," he mutters, turning his head to hide his smile as James cackles beside him, shaking the bed beneath their combined weights.

They lay together for a while, the sounds of James' laughter tapering off slowly, the pair settling with one another just as easily as they always have.

"Is this what you want?" asks James eventually once the silence has stretched on for an indeterminable amount of time. Sirius doesn't answer immediately, and James is staring at him again. "Sirius," prompts James plaintively, the heaviness returning to his voice.

Gaze locked on the ceiling, Sirius swallows thickly. "Yes," he whispers. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I dunno. Feels important. I know you love him, and I know he loves you," begins James, Sirius' ears catching the sound of his head turning over the blanket under them, "but this – well, it happened sort of fast, didn't it? You two weren't exactly stable. Not even together. There were…things. Stuff to work through. And then you were dealing with the aftermath of Gideon again and leaving the Association. All those fights to get away. And once you did…it was like peace, I know, but less than a month after it all settled, the dust still thick in the air, you're coming in one night and telling us you've both decided it's time to live together. You can't blame me for checking, Sirius."

"S'pose I can't, no," agrees Sirius, voice still low, but he sighs heavily, his chest falling slowly with the release. "You're right, I do love him. I tried not to, for a while, when I thought it was important. When I thought it mattered. When I didn't understand and thought I couldn't forgive him, but I – trying didn't change anything. It didn't change who he was or is, everything he's ever been to me since the first day I met him. Both first days." Sirius turns his head, finally looking at James again, holding his gaze, James' dark brow furrowed as he listens intently. "I'm not sure when it exactly happened, but at some point, I looked at him and realized we've always been a bit inevitable, James. And that, along with everything else – who he is, the things he does, how he makes me feel even on my worst days – that's how I know this is what I want, and that it's so bloody right I wouldn't survive without it. Without him."

James doesn't say anything for so long that Sirius begins to fidget restlessly where he rests. His friend's expression is unreadable, such a rarity for Sirius that it increases the discomfort inside him even as he remains stoic on the outside. And then James' face is crumbling a little, cracks forming and then shattering as emotion surges out of him, a happy melancholy overtaking him.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispers thickly, throat clogged, and Sirius crumbles with him.

He nods once, then again, the motion of his head and neck a jerking thing, a spasm racing through his body. His breathing shudders in his chest as he tries to fight against himself, but it's no use and Sirius knows it's pointless. He rolls onto his side, towards James, his friend meeting him halfway as they envelope one another in familiar arms, burying themselves into shoulders and each other the same as they have since they were kids and didn't know enough to care how it looked, not caring even once they did.

"Me too," chokes out Sirius into James' neck, and James laughs, a strangled sound as it leaves him, his grip around Sirius' back tightening. "Me too, Prongs."

#at the healing edge of broken #sirius black #james potter #sirius black and james potter #bros through the woes #please no one kick me off tumblr for that tag #outtake #anon asks #ask #answer #lovely anons #post in the toast #my writing #holli writes

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Custody Battle 12--Interlude: Aziraphale's Secret

The Ritual of Propagation has succeeded. Aziraphale and Crowley are ready to welcome the newest member of Their Own Side. But the Archangels have other plans: No young angel has ever been raised outside their closely guided care, and they have no intention of changing that...

For an endless eternity, Aziraphale was trapped in the unchanging facility, incubating new angels for the War. Compliant, obedient, happy to serve. But sometimes, he got the urge to see something besides the colorless walls. And for those times, he had a secret...

Read it on AO3!

(CW: Medical gaslighting, Mpr*g, indirect references to metaphysical r*pe/dubcon.

In theory, Aziraphale could see the whole of Creation from his window. It was wide, taking up nearly the entire far wall, though not quite floor to ceiling. It was perfectly clear and smooth; no matter how many times he touched it, leaned against it, watched the steam grow across it as his breath mingled with Gabriel’s, no permanent mark ever stained its surface. And through that perfect barrier, he could see…

Darkness, mostly. A scattering of distant stars, and between them the flitting lights of squadrons, battalions, Heaven’s and the Enemy’s. One side caught the other in an ambush, battle joined with a brilliant flash, and then… slightly less light, slightly more darkness.

Beside him, two medics tugged on his wing. A third stood nearby, taking notes. Another—not a medic, an apothecary, wearing red and brown instead of green and white—waited beside a cart of supplies.

“We could detach now,” said the nearer medic. They spoke, as always, almost too fast to follow, rapid-fire words compressed yet somehow clear. “We have three at the minimum threshold, and ten above it.”

“But that’s still less than half,” said the other, rummaging around Aziraphale’s feathers. “We should wait for two more.”

“Protocol says to begin detachment when five are above the threshold.”

“Yes, but protocol was written for clutches of less than ten. Besides, the largest ones are still growing. We should wait to see if they plateau.”

“Risky.” The medic plucked a few coverts for testing. “But the incubator looks relatively healthy, at least.”

The incubator pressed a hand to his ribs, carefully breathing around the pain. It wasn’t so bad anymore, as long as he didn’t exert himself. Already his eye was clear, if a little swollen, and he hardly limped at all. But then, Aziraphale was sturdy; he’d always recovered quickly from falls.

The medics hardly spared him a glance, studying their clipboards and talking somehow even faster. It always made him uncomfortable, being poked and prodded like this, but he had more than just himself to worry about. Little flutters of anxiety from his wing drew his attention again and again.

Don’t worry, little Soldiers, he soothed, sending them as much calm as he could. Just a quick inspection. Nothing to worry about.

A cup full of clear liquid was thrust into his hand. “Drink,” the apothecary said.

“Oh, thank you.” Sometimes there was a hint of sweetness or bitterness to the medication, but this one—like most of them—was indistinguishable from pure water. “Is this for the pain? I don’t mean to complain, but my side—”

“No.” The apothecary gestured for him to finish drinking, then took the cup back. “We aren’t allowed to interfere with punishments.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you all the same,” he called to their retreating back.

With the other angels occupied, he bent over the lower right wing that had been the center of attention. Thirty golden spheres hovered just above the feathers, several of them easily the size of his fist. They clustered together, tapping one against another, minds only growing more tense. “Shhhh, there now,” he said softly, running his fingers across them. “You’re doing very well. Almost finished now.” 

Bualu, the largest of the clutch, had been separated out by the medics for a closer look. They returned now, and Isda and Enediel eagerly rushed out to greet them.

Aziraphale took a moment to look over his three other wings. The twenty-eight globes on his lower left seemed entirely unaware of the inspection, and were wandering about placidly in groups of three or four. On the upper left, most of the younglings seemed to be having a race of some sort, chasing each other up and down his feathers, while near the bend of his joint Curaniel circled around little Haniel protectively. And on the upper right—

“Farris,” Aziraphale hissed. “What in Heaven’s name are you doing?”

The youngling froze, shuffling around innocently as if they hadn’t just been caught charging into clusters of their clutchmates, scattering the little globes on impact.

“I’ve told you before not to be so rough. You need to be careful.” Farris darted over to tap more gently against one of the others, then rushed back excitedly. “No, when I say careful I don’t mean—”

“Three days.”

Aziraphale’s head jerked up just in time to see the medics leaving. “I—I’m sorry? What was that?”

The lead medic turned back, blinking at Aziraphale as if they hadn’t noticed him there before. “Three days,” they repeated, voice oddly drawn-out as they spoke at a normal speed. “We’ll return and evaluate then. Might detach.”

“Oh, I see!” Aziraphale stood quickly, trying to remember the markers of time the medics used. Days, he seemed to recall, were on the long side. “That’s… that’s wonderful news. And, I hate to be a bother, I know you can’t do anything about my punishment, but… well, I was just wondering when… or how long…”

“You’ll be fine in a few days.” They turned back to their clipboard and stepped outside.

“Yes, but—just—is ‘a few’ more or less than—”

The door shut with a click, and Aziraphale was alone with his younglings.

His head pulsed sharply, and he eased himself back onto the bed, breathing slowly until it passed. And it would pass. Wouldn’t it?

The weakness in his legs that had led to his first fall still returned now and then. He’d managed two more walks down to the recreation hall, but neither time had managed to do much after arriving.

The vertigo from Haniel’s ritual still hit him, usually when he stood too long or moved too fast, making the room around him briefly tilt. A perfectly normal side-effect of successful Propagation, but the dizzy spells seemed to last longer the more angels he carried.

As for his meld with Michael—he could still feel the throbbing echo of pain all over his body. True, the bruises Sandalphon had given him were more painful, more immediate, more real. A suitable reminder of what he, a Guardian, should be able to withstand. But still, every now and then, he would remember her anger, and how it seemed to cut into him, cut so deeply he might fall apart…

He hadn’t seen her since. Returned to the front lines, and to be honest it was a relief. Aziraphale still wasn’t sure what to say to her. Gabriel hadn’t come to see him either, and on his last walk he’d spotted the Archangel escorting a different angel into his office, one with perfectly groomed feathers. Only on their second clutch by the look of it.

That had left him with a complicated ache he still couldn’t understand.

Still, the rest had been good for him, and the younglings. Time to recover, to build their strength, to reflect on—

The faint sound of a foot scuffing across carpet.

Aziraphale froze, heart suddenly racing. He turned to the door, sick with anticipation. Waiting… waiting… waiting…

No one came down this corridor, except to see him. There was a four-way juncture just past his room. One hall led to the Archangels’ offices, another to the medics’ rooms, the third passed the other incubators’ dormitories and ultimately led to the recreation hall.

There were other corridors, of course, a labyrinth of them. But Aziraphale’s little section was a dead end, just a strip of hallway terminating at the window, and his door.

His door, with someone standing outside it, but not coming in.

Taking care to rise slowly, lest he set his head pounding again, Aziraphale crossed the room, bare feet padding as quietly as he could manage, straining his wings to keep them from dragging under the weight of a hundred and nine gestating angels.

His hand hovered over the latch as he carefully took a breath, then jerked it open to reveal—

An empty corridor. Not a feather in sight but his own.

Should that surprise him? All the Archangels seemed to be avoiding him. Well, all but one.

He seemed to have drawn Sandalphon’s interest again.

Taking one last look at the empty corridor, he pressed the door shut and leaned his weight against it. Then he looked down to find a dozen globes watching him intently, Bualu in particular flickering nervously.

“No, no, that’s just me being a bit silly, I’m afraid.” He ran his hand across them, feeling the little bubbles of happiness. “Too long staring at the same walls.” Aziraphale glanced out the window once again at the meager scattering of stars. “Well, my Soldiers. What would you say… to a little… journey?”

Read the rest on AO3!

#good omens angst #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale #good omens #good omens prime #heaven not being a nice place #archangels #lonely aziraphale #tw mpreg #cw noncon #my writing #aziraphale's children #ao3 link

[iliveiloveiwrite]

8 from misc. And 6 from steamy scenes with Benedict Bridgerton. ❤

Treasure Hunts // Benedict Bridgerton

a/n: I'm so sorry for the wait! please read the warnings, this isn't straight smut, but it gets sort of heavy. for all the smut I read, you’d think I’d be comfortable writing it... but alas I am not.

warnings: this gets steamy - making out, fondling, grinding, stripping. female reader, marriage, married couple, fluff, treasure hunts.

wc: 1.4k - this really ran off from me, it’s meant to be a blurb.

As every season in London comes to an end, yourself and Benedict make your way back to My Cottage, your children happily staying behind with their beloved grandmother. The time alone was precious. As much as you adored your children, you missed spending time alone with Benedict where adult matters could be discussed or a treasure hunt could be planned on behalf of your husband.

It had all started when Benedict brought up the idea of a night once a fortnight dedicated to the two of you where there was no talk of the children or of the family. It was to be a night simply for the two of you. However, deep within the country where there were no major functions due to the end of the season, there wasn’t much that could be offered in the form of a date night.

It was why instead of waking up to your handsome husband, you felt a crinkle of a piece of paper. Frowning in your sleep, you force yourself to consciousness, reading the words written there.

“A meal a day, mostly in the morn. You’ll find the next clue, tucked in the torn.”

Your sleep addled brain takes a moment to catch up with itself; your eyes adjusting to the morning light as the words on the slip of paper become clearer. Sitting up in bed, you hike the sheets over your body to protect yourself from the chill as you try to figure out your husband’s plan.

The torn?

It comes back to you in a rush. A chime of laughter; the press of a kiss; the smell of cologne. The torn was what Benedict and you called the ripped piece of wallpaper behind the sideboard table. In the very early days of your marriage, it was even harder to keep your hands from Benedict. In this particular instance, Benedict was at fault, capturing you at breakfast. The sideboard banged against the wall to the point of damaging the decorating – something the both of you realised as Benedict was re-tying the laces of your dress.

Dressing quickly, you rush down to the breakfast room, heading for the sideboard where you notice a slim piece of cream paper sticking up between the wall and table.

Snatching it, a private smile adorns your lips, remembering the very moment that had led to the damaged wallpaper. Years had passed since that day, yet the need to have your husband in every shape and form hadn’t lessened. As Benedict slowly began to grey with age, you found yourself more attracted to the man than ever.

Shaking your head, you open Benedict’s note. “We greet here, but never eat. We smile here, but never beam.”

The drawing room.

The answer comes to you immediately, not needing the time to decipher the note. It had become a custom through your marriage that you would not be the family that live their lives in the drawing room, waiting for others to drop by and visit. Early on in your marriage, Benedict decreed that the drawing room would be suitable for formalities, but the real part of your marriage would take place in another room in the house – a room suitable for living, not performing.

The drawing room is cold when you enter; the morning sun not high enough in the sky to begin warming the room through. A fire would need to be lit should you enter again on the hunt Benedict has sent you on.

Pausing in the doorway, you think for a moment as to where Benedict might hide his next note. The drawing room was so rarely used; the both of you choosing to host family and close friends in a much more informal setting.

In his elegant scrawl resides a riddle: “My spine is stiff. My body, pale. I’m always ready to tell a tale.”

Gathering your skirts in your hands, you keep tight hold of the riddle, marching through the house to the small library where Benedict knows you spend most of your time when not occupied by him or the children.

There, on the small table you use to rest your teacup, lies another piece of paper. Without another moment to lose, you reach for the paper, not giving yourself enough time for pause, desperate to know the next clue in your treasure hunt.

“When I’m not by your side, you’ll find me here.”

Not so much a riddle, but a test on your behalf.

Benedict was an artist. He was a husband, a father, an uncle, but he was an artist before he was all those things.

His studio is on the second floor of the house; located at the end of the corridor, down the hall from the children’s nursery and playroom. Benedict wasn’t an artist that needed silence to focus; in a house of eight children, silence was a virtue yet seldom found, so he learnt to focus with noise.

You knock once, entering anyway. Benedict never minded the interruptions; he rather enjoyed them, knowing he would either get to talk to you about art, or kiss you senseless.

Your husband stands by the large window; hands clasped behind his back as he stares at the view of the English countryside. His strong back faces you; he’s forgone all formal clothing today, settling simply for a pair of breeches and one his loose white t-shirts. Your mouth dries at the sight, admiring the view of his muscular back, only just visible through the translucent fabric of his shirt.

“You’ve had me running around all morning,” you tease, “What do I win?”

“You’ll have to come closer to find out,” Benedict challenges, turning to face you.

Raising a single eyebrow to his challenge, you wander slowly to your husband, feeling anticipation begin to stir in your gut. No words are muttered; not a single whisper as you join your husband at the window.

All he does is kiss you.

Heat rises from your stomach to your chest; your heart pounding so loud you wonder briefly whether Benedict can hear it. His lips are hot and insistent on yours; taking early control of the kiss as his hands wander to the loose ties of your dress. He tastes of the traditional cup of breakfast tea he has every morning; the very taste is addicting as Benedict taps your right hip twice – the signal for you to jump.

Your legs wrap around his waist; his hands drop from your back to cup your bum through the masses of skirt. Benedict settles you on a table you briefly remember is covered in paint though the very thought flies right out of your mind as Benedict’s hands drift up and under your skirt, caressing the soft skin there. Soft moans fall from your lips as you break the kiss, coaxing Benedict further as you slowly begin to grind your hips in the hopes of getting his hand where you desire it most.

A smirk curls the edges of his lips as he enjoys teasing you. Kiss after kiss is pressed to your bare shoulder; the man only a moment away from laughter as he catches sight of the frustration so clearly written on your face.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, you tug at the fabric, ripping the buttons clean off the material. Your fingers skim over the bare, taut skin of Benedict’s stomach, revelling in the soft moans that leave his mouth as your fingers move lower to the band of his breeches. His mouth falls slack as you take hold of heat waiting there.

He huffs angrily when you pull your hand from his breeches; a satisfied grin on your face. It doesn’t take much for Benedict to wipe the grin from your face; he kisses you once more, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he draws you even closer to him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, tugging at the long locks, loving the groan that sounds in the back of his throat.

Benedict breaks the kiss; his chest heaving from the effort. He smiles at you; it lights up his face, making him seem younger, more boyish as a devious glint begins to take over.

He tugs at the shoulders of your dress; your arms free of the material as you remain exposed to the man you love. Your chest bare; breath heaving from your body as Benedict presses kiss after kiss to the naked skin. “You’ve won your prize,” Benedict murmurs, his lips painting the words against your skin as if you were one of his landscapes. “What would you have me do now?”

“Touch me,” you breathe, hitching your skirts higher around your hips to gain better purchase on the man you promised to love for better, for worse, and for richer, for poorer.

“Happily.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton blurb #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fluff

[misschifuyu]

hii <3

i would like to request a headcanon with kazutora, chifuyu mitsuya having sex with their s/o please? if it's too much feel free to ignore it :)

thanks <33 have a nice day/night

- hi there my love !! don’t worry, this request is absolutely fine, and it’s actually the first full nsfw one so I do hope you like it

Kazutora, Chifuyu and Mitsuya general n/sfw headcanons

genre: smut. the characters are depicted as their present selves

warnings: explicit content & language.

Kazutora

jumping right into it, i feel that kazutora is more on the make love side rather than blowing your back out. sure, if you asked him to be rough on an odd day, he'd happily comply. he's just more on the softer side

this is mostly due to his past; he knows what he's capable of, even after all those years since his toman days, so he'd be very precautious not to hurt you in any way

you'll know when he's needy, like you just will. kazutora will turn ever to touchy and try to remain as close to you as possible when he's trying to get you into bed

he doesn't really need words, but he'll speak if you ask him to

"i...really need to be inside you"

don't think this translates as skipping foreplay, though

very much the opposite. kazutora loves feeling up on your soft skin, leaving faint marks with his teeth that would gradually turn into darker shades of purple

he quite likes marking you up, it's really the only thing that could be mildly classed as rough, as he'd frequently leave teeth marks. he adores hearing your voice when he'd catch you off guard with a particularly harsh bite, squirming beneath him

this man is an avid lover of giving oral

he won't turn down a blowjob, but he'd sometimes feel a little awkward whenever you did. he'd ease into it after a few minutes, but he still preferred pleasuring you instead

between your thighs is his favourite place to be, no matter the time of the day. whether you're laying on your back or hovering over his face, kazutora will keep you there for a good while, voicing out praises at you as he basked in your reactions

if his tongue wasn't too occupied, of course

"god, i just can't get enough of you"

make sure to praise him just as much. he absolutely loves hearing loving nicknames from you whenever you tell him how much of a good job he's doing

it gets him even more riled up, and would frequently grind himself against whatever surface you were on

speaking of surfaces, though the bed is the most convenient place to indulge in you, kazutora isn't picky about the location, so long as it's somewhere inside

he's been known to take you whilst you watched a movie, on a counter as you waited for food to cook, even up against a wall when he couldn't be bothered to make it all the way to the bed

as long as he gets to watch your face twist into one of pleasure, he really couldn't care less where it was

a key point when having sex with kazutora: pull his hair

it can be in a ponytail or loose, doesn't matter; he will let out the prettiest moans ever if you just so tugged gently on his locks

it's a sensitive spot of his, so be sure to use it wisely. it'll take him some self control to not go absolutely feral on you if you do, so its best you tell him it's okay to let go before you play with his hair

whenever you start reaching your high, no matter if he's over or behind you, he will bury his face into your neck and suck on the skin, emphasising the already noticeable marks

during aftercare - because this man will pamper you after a session, no matter how long or short it was - he will trace over the marks with light kisses, asking if any of them were still sore

and, of course, a shower will be waiting for you as soon as he's done with that. it's a perfect excuse to spend so more time pressed up against you; a double win, in his eyes

Chifuyu

let's get one thing straight: chifuyu is ready to get it on with you whenever and, frankly wherever. it doesn't take much to get him all needy and, more times that not, he will approach you with the intention of getting in your pants, no matter what you were doing

of course, he will ask if you're up for it, too - consent is key, people

see, he's a very touchy, affectionate person. he loves being around you and will take up any chance to be near you. sometimes, though, this need to be close to you will escalated into something more. even if you were simply cuddling, chifuyu will, occasionally, start to feel his pants getting a little too tight for comfort

when things get going, he is an absolute sweetheart. treating you with care, he will melt into your lips, hands roaming around your body. he's not very talkative during foreplay, but that's mostly because his mouth is usually occupied

however, once your clothes have been discarded, something with click inside of him, making his only goal to leave you in an absolute mess by the time he was done with you

littering your skin with kisses and subtle bites, he will run his hands along your sides, causing goosebumps on your skin that he'd always notice, a sly smile on his lips whenever he did

he's a tease. whilst you try and push your hips towards him, he will simply place kisses on your skin near the area you most needed him to touch

you're going to actually have to tell him what you want before you loose sight of the playful smile that hung on his lips

"that's it...wasn't that hard to ask, now was it?"

chifuyu will get right to the point once he drops his teasing act, though, and expect a good two to three orgasms before he decides he's done with you

when it comes to positions, he likes those in which he can be closest to you. skin on skin is his favourite feeling, and the closer his face can be to yours, the better

when he's pounding into you, he'll bring a hand up to your face. he'd hold it softly, contrasting from his rough pace, and whisper out a series of praises

"you look so pretty like this...does it feel that good? tell me, i want to hear your voice"

a fun thing about chifuyu is that he's a switch, a big one at that. if you find the impulse to flip him onto his back, or simply take over, he will automatically slip out of his position in charge

this is when you'll be able to hear his pretty voice. although he will start with small whimpers here and there, by the time he's edging towards his orgasm he will let out a string of soft moans, grabbing onto you in any way he can as he does

when he reaches his orgasm, his grip will keep you in the position you were in, his body stiffening up as his eyes would close shut

this will be applied whether he's in control or not, honestly. chifuyu loses most of his focus when he's nearing his high, only having enough to call out your name

he may be shorter than most of the guys, but he has one hell of a stamina. one round will never be sufficient for him, and he'd certainly be up to waiting for you to calm down until the next one if it meant he could make you - and himself - see stars again

this will be when, as well as during aftercare, he will give you soft kisses against your skin, massaging areas such as your stomach and thighs as he'd let out hums of happiness

as said before, he's a sweetheart. sure, sometimes you'd be sore after being with him, but he'd always make it up to you with the most perfect cuddling session afterwards

Mitsuya

mitsuya is very skilled with his hands, as shown by his talent when it comes to designing and creating magnificent fashion pieces

watching him work is quite the sight, and even more so if you're familiar with other wonders he's able to do with those fingers of his

but, to start off, know that it will take him some determination to start anything up with you

he's a busy man with a lot on his mind, so it would take him a bit to hold himself back from just jumping on you because of the growing stress that had built up throughout the day

he's a respectful man and, therefore, will take his time and look for subtle hints to see if perhaps you'd follow his lead

when you catch his drift, though, he will be all hands on you

sex is a perfect way to wind down from his hectic schedule, and he couldn't ask for anyone else better to do it with rather than you

oral is key during foreplay. he will start by making his way down on you, his voice speaking words of appreciation between the kisses he'd place on your skin

watching you writhe from the position between your legs was something he thoroughly adored, your body jerking with every skilled move from both his mouth and his fingers

after a good few minutes of pulling his hair and high pitched moans from your behalf, he will lift himself away from you. this will be your turn to switch up places

and also when you'd see the truly, needy mitsuya

you see, he has very, very sensitive skin. his neck, his chest, his waist...with simple touches of your hand, you can reduce him to a squirming mess

when he's the one receiving oral, he will absolutely lose any sense of straightforward thinking, especially if you run your hands on his thighs whilst you peer up at him through your lashes

his moans are like music to your ears. he won't speak much, unable to actually form words as he shivers from the feeling of you between his legs, but his hand on your head will be enough to tell you that you're doing a good job

if he's sat up whilst you give him the blowjob, expect to be pushed down as soon as he reaches his orgasm. he tends to curl over when he does, his whole body turning into a trembling mess

he will make up for accidentally making you gag, though. in the sense that you won't be able to walk straight for the next few days

he may be sensitive, but he also isn't one to go slow when it comes to intercourse. he will also go for a few rounds, loving how you'd come undone before him every time

hold on to him when he does: the feeling of your nails digging into his back whenever he's on top of you always makes him pick up his speed, and he loves the marks that would appear afterwards

it was a way to know that he was taking good care of you

mitsuya isn't one to talk dirty, but he will shower you with loving comments during aftercare. he'd trace your skin with his fingers as you lay on his chest, both equally as tired and worn out

his sex drive is high, but so is his love for you

so he'd always prepare a bath for you afterwards, where he'd try and keep you awake with soft kisses and talking to you whilst you enjoyed the warm water

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #tokyo revengers chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #smut #i just ... phew

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Hands Off [Requested]

softdom!Sunwoo x gf!reader

Request: Sunwoo likes to play with his girlfriend's breasts

Warnings: mentions of bullying, body image, underage drinking, anxiety (very brief), titfucking

Long overdue request for @ace-seventeen-world , I hope you like it! Also first time writing anything about titfucking, I hope it turned out alright. 🙏🏽

Sunwoo loves you even when you don't feel like loving yourself.

Being well-endowed since puberty hit meant you received a lot of unwanted attention from all genders. Some would pass judgement, calling you desperate for attention; and some would ogle and make lewd comments. This led to you coming to school wearing oversized baggy clothes and even turtlenecks no matter the weather. The less your body was apparent for people to judge, the better, you thought. Except the comments never stopped. You were so sick of your body being the talk of the student population of your small-town high school that you couldn't wait to graduate; and move far away to start afresh in college, where you futilely hoped that people would be more mature about these things.

Moving away for college turned out to be the best decision you made. You made a whole bunch of new, more mature friends who taught you to embrace and appreciate your body. Inappropriate comments from strangers still came your way, but with your new, reliable support system, you learnt to shut them out, and your girlfriends would even try to fight them for you, which made you feel very touched and grateful. Apparently, this sincerity didn't stop with just your good friends. That was also how you met your current boyfriend. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a party during your first semester, and you allowed them to doll you up, upon much pestering. You were dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, which turned some heads at the party, and though you felt rather self-conscious in the beginning, you loosened up after a few drinks and dances. From there, you didn't care if people paid good or bad attention to you; all you wanted was to have fun with your best friends.

One of your friends introduced you to a gaggle of other first- and second-years, who were very loud and goofy, except for one; who had previously been laughing boisterously along with them until he set his eyes on you. He abruptly stopped laughing when you made eye contact, and you could have sworn he developed a light flush. With pouty lips and dark eyes, and a mop of fluffy black hair, he smiled shyly at you, nodding in acknowledgement and softly introducing himself. His voice was deep and had an attractive drawl and a pleasant raspiness. His name was Sunwoo, and you ingrained it into your memory easily, smiling shyly back at him. You mostly kept to yourself as the rest of them chatted, nursing your drink when a flurry of words and a loud slap shook you. You whipped around to see one of the boys, with cotton-candy hair and sharp feline eyes rubbing his arm and muttering under his breath next to Sunwoo, who was staring at you while whispering something to the boy - Eric, was it?

"Apologize!" Sunwoo hissed, nudging him. You tried to back off but Eric nervously came forward and rubbed his neck sheepishly, stuttering an apology while avoiding your eyes. He didn't specify what he was apologizing for, but you already had an inkling. All your friends were now staring at you, confused as to what had transpired. Unable to handle the stifling awkwardness, you quickly murmured "It's fine, Eric," before speedwalking away to get some fresh air, unaware that a certain dark-haired boy was scurrying after you. You turned to the nearest balcony and hurriedly gulped some fresh air to calm down, all-too-familiar feelings of panic and shame drowning you. You fought back tears, ignoring some of the smokers occupying the same space, who were looking at you with a mixture of confusion and pity. You managed to calm your breathing, and blink back tears, when a figure slowly comes to stand next to you. He doesn't look at you out of courtesy, fixing his gaze straight ahead. "Are you alright?" he asks softly. You nod firmly, trying to seem completely calm. "Eric... sometimes says things without thinking, but I know that's not an excuse. I just want to apologize again, for making you uncomfortable." His voice is gentle and soothing, and you tilt your head to face him, since he was a bit taller.

"It's not your fault, but thanks Sunwoo. And don't worry, parties aren't really my thing, I just came cause my friends were begging me to join them," you chuckle softly, to which Sunwoo gives you a lopsided grin.

"I feel you on that. I'm here to look after my idiot friends."

You share a good laugh, and spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, but conversation comes easy, like you've known each other for years.

You and Sunwoo's paths seem to cross often, apparently because his faculty was right next to yours, and soon your friend groups merge and become one massive group, and you've even forgiven Eric. Days turned into months, casual meetups turned into lunch and movie dates, and soon you and Sunwoo are constantly switching back and forth staying over at each other's apartments.

Ever since you two started dating and you've gotten used to wearing more comfortable clothes around him, you've noticed him staring at your chest every now and then, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic and embarrassed whenever you catch him. You started to tease him, and he would bashfully hide his face and whine cutely. To get back at you, he'd purposely keep his hands cold and hug you out of nowhere, just to hear you squeal, knowing you're ticklish. Sometimes he'd be even bolder, trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts under your shirt, especially when you walk around the house with no bra on. He'd do it when you're cuddling on the couch watching a movie, or worse, when you're trying to study. You didn't mind it usually, since you appreciated the support from his hands since the weight of your breasts takes a toll on your back, and you weren't fond of wearing a bra 24/7. Except the little shit likes to tease, jiggling them around and squeezing them when he's being extra playful, even grazing your nipples with his fingertips; chuckling lowly in your ear when you gasp or squirm in pleasure.

One night in bed, you confront him jokingly. Your period was on its way soon, and your breasts were feeling extra tender and swollen, something you had complained about, so your dear boyfriend very happily obliged, massaging them gently to ease your discomfort. After a while he gets bored, and starts prodding them, round eyes watching intently as they bounce. You can't help but laugh at how adorably fascinated he looks, so you ask him why he's so enamored by your boobs.

"They're just.. fun to play with, yknow? Bouncy and squishy. Can't help myself okay, you're just so perfect," Sunwoo grumbles, blushing again since he got caught.

"Yeah? What if I lose weight and they get smaller? Will you still like me then?" you ask, feeling rather self-conscious, irrational worries that he only likes you for your assets filling your mind. You try to ignore them, knowing your relationship with Sunwoo was much more than superficial, but trauma and bad memories keep causing you to doubt yourself.

"Of course I would!" Sunwoo gasps, reaching up to hold your face urgently but with such a tender gaze in his eyes. "It's still you, and you'll always be perfect, and I love you no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes when he said those words. Few people had treated you with such genuine kindness and you were so grateful to have him as your partner. You squished his cheeks together and pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising him. "I love you too, Sunwoo," you whispered, a small smile on your teary face. A cheeky grin slowly replaces the shock on his face. "Shall I show you just how much I love you?" he drawls, crawling on top of you, making you lay down on the bed. Sunwoo positions you to nestle comfortably against the pillows, helping you take your shirt off afterwards.

Your cheeks start to heat up at Sunwoo's intense gaze raking over your body, and your arms habitually come up to shield your breasts, but he's quick to catch them, gently pulling them away. "Don't be shy. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out," he murmurs, making you blush even harder. He kisses you deeply, before trailing his lips down, pressing light kisses down your neck and across your chest, gently nipping at the skin just above your right nipple. He resumes massaging your breasts, admiring the way your face scrunches up cutely in pleasure, his warm hands on your skin making you sigh happily. He leans down again, tracing a circle around your areola, making you shiver. He teases you a little more, flicking your hardened nub with his tongue before finally latching on and suckling on it, rubbing it periodically with his tongue. His hands are still massaging your breasts, twisting and tugging on your other nipple.

He pulls off with a satisfied 'pop' when you whine, pleased with how raw and puffy your nipple has become, glistening with an abundance of his spit. He dives back down to subject your other nipple to the same treatment, but this time, his free hand creeps down your tummy and between your thighs. You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips, and you can feel his plush lips smirk into your skin, obviously proud of himself. You willingly part your legs, and he dips his middle finger straight into your folds, your juices coating his finger instantly. He raises his head to look at you, eyebrows raised cheekily. "So wet already, babe? Always knew your nipples were so sensitive," he chuckles, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. You shut your eyes, the stimulation of his mouth on your chest and his hand on your pussy clouding your mind. He inserts another finger and pumps you faster while he drags his teeth against your puffy nipple, making you shiver and moan even louder.

He starts leaving hickeys and bites all over your decolletage, looking forward to seeing those pretty marks bloom purple tomorrow morning. Finally, he eases up on his ministrations on your chest, and focused on fucking you hard and fast with his fingers, slamming three digits into your core, gleefully watching the way your breasts jiggle from the impact. He glances up at your face, finding your head tossed back, soft mewls and moans falling from raw, bitten lips. You're clutching the bedsheets in a death grip as Sunwoo starts sucking on your clit as he fingers you. He sucks hard, nudging it with his tongue every so often as he slows down his thrusts, opting to scissor you open and drag his fingertips along your walls, rubbing hard against your g-spot when he finds it, indicated by your shrill yelp. "B-babe, gonna c-cum," you gasp, still writhing in pleasure. "Go on, love, cum for me," he mumbles against your core, and soon you're clenching on his fingers, coating them with your cum, and he continues to fuck you through your climax.

Gasping for air, you wince as he pulls his fingers out, pussy clenching on nothing as you watch him idly put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. He smiles lazily at you, telling you how sweet you taste and even gives you a kiss, making you taste yourself. Your cheeks turn crimson again, and you decide you want to return the favor, having felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh when he leaned down to kiss you. You eye the tent in his jeans, and start unbuckling his belt. He looks at you in alarm, grasping your hands to stop you. "Baby, you don't have to do that, this is about you," he smiles gently. You pout at him. "But I wanna help you too! I have an idea that I always wanted to try with you…" Sunwoo takes a moment to consider, making sure you were genuinely comfortable doing so, and his eyes glimmer with anticipation when he nods in agreement. You beam wordlessly at him, helping him out of his jeans and boxers. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock.

Sunwoo's dick always made you feel good, whether it was fucking your pussy or your throat, but you always wondered what it would feel like sliding between your bountiful breasts. You pull him up to straddle your chest, and his eyes widen when he realizes what you want him to do. "Really?" he gasps, dick twitching with excitement when you readily nod. He chokes on a moan when you swipe your finger up his cock, gathering his dripping precum to slather it between your breasts. He slowly slides his dick into the valley between your breasts as your hands push them together, making it even tighter around him, and he groans lowly. Sunwoo thrusts shallowly, loving the way the smooth skin of your breasts feels around his aching cock. He begins to take over, his larger, warmer hands replacing yours, squishing your tits together as he rocks his hips faster, becoming addicted to the the feeling. It wasn't much physical stimulation for you, but you felt yourself getting hot again watching his face contort in pleasure, his tightening grip on your tender, sensitive breasts rather arousing. You can't look away, mesmerized by how good he looks with his lower lip caught between his teeth, grunting softly as he uses your tits to get himself off.

"You look so hot like this Sunwoo," you murmur, your hand resting on his thigh as he continues to piston his hips. He barks out a breathless laugh, "Have you looked at yourself properly? You're fucking gorgeous, babe, don't you ever forget that. Although, I'm down to remind you all the time." he winks. You smirk at him, and your hands come up to squeeze his muscular ass, the same way he likes to squeeze your boobs. He's got a nice butt, you had to admit, toned and sculpted from years of various sports, and it was your weakness the same way your breasts were his. He moans louder when he feels you groping his ass, hips stuttering as he approaches his climax. He throws his head back as he fucks erratically, squishing your tits even tighter together and you keen at the rough treatment. You coax him in a soft whisper to cum all over your tits, and soon he does, painting your chest white as his hips slow down, and he's gasping for air. A little bit of his cum has spurted onto your lips, but you willingly lick it up and smile up at him, your hands still soothingly rubbing his cheeks as he comes down from his high.

You grab some wet tissues from your bedside drawers and clean up your chest as best as you could, wiping away all the cum before Sunwoo flops next to you, resting his head on your chest the way he usually loves to. You lay there in comfortable silence for a while more, stroking his hair and you feel him smile into your skin, his finger absentmindedly tracing the hickeys he's left across your breasts. Maybe going to that party all those months ago was the best decision you ever made (second only to moving here for college), and maybe you and Sunwoo finally get out of bed to shower, and maybe you go for a second round in the bathroom, filling the steamy air with echoes of wet skin slapping and soft proclamations of 'I love you's.

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz #the boyz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #sunwoo smut

[shoutogepi]

A Million Times Over, part 2

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.4k 

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : NSFW references (no explicit smut this chapter)

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Yaaaaaa babie so part 2 is finally finished! I’m wicked excited to finish the series next chapter and ughhh the smut is gonna be so good omg. Just wait. 

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : shout out to @shotoh for beta-reading this for me, what a saint <3 

└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄸t was warm.

There was something heavy on your middle, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance— it was a welcome weight, one that somehow made comfort seep from your chest and fill the rest of your body with a quiet sense of peace. You hummed as sleep’s grasp on you lightened, the cogs in your mind beginning to turn. The hospital bed had never been this comfortable before, and the acrid smell of antiseptic and bustle of the doctors outside your door was peculiarly absent. Instead, a pleasant scent of laundry and cologne lingered on your pillowcase, making the corners of your mouth pull up in a droopy smile.

Your eyes opened as you recalled where you were, and whose arms you were lying in— whose gentle breaths blew at your hair and tickled the shell of your ear. Letting out a slow exhale, you blinked the sleep from your eyes, legs attempting to move, only to find them tangled with the muscled calves of your bedmate who, you prayed to whatever divine presence that was out there, was still asleep.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, when you tried to move away, a low groan sounded in your ear, scattering the stray hairs that laid out of place there. Like a sleeping bear, the arm around your waist curled around you tighter, pressing your entire body directly against the hard contour of his. You swallowed, blinking owlishly as you tried not to think about the sizeable semi-hardness poking into your backside, nor the rough fingertips that splayed out on the smooth expanse of your stomach at the bottom of your shirt, the very pinky dipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts and panties, palm warming your skin just enough to make your heart awaken for the day.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you didn’t dare move another inch. Even if you didn’t have your memories of the man you shared your life with for the past few years, the moments the two of you had shared throughout the past week were enough to have butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach. The feeling of simply being in his arms, tucked under the sheets and cocooned in his warmth and his scent, it all had your body feeling like it was at peace.

At home.

Shouto’s hand was lying open beside your face, his arm tucked underneath your neck as he must’ve fallen asleep spooning you, and not since shifted away throughout the night. His fingers twitched in his sleep just slightly, and you took the moment to admire the long, slender digits. For a man of his size and stature, they were surprisingly thin, almost as if in another life he could have tickled piano keys for a living. But they were also marred with scars and calluses from his herowork— none open nor recent, seeing as he had taken the last month off to watch over you. Reaching for his hand, you traced the lines on his palm, trailing your fingertips over his skin and finding yourself lost in thought. You wondered if this was how you usually slept, if this was what you woke up to every day…

If that was your reality, you would happily accept it.

Being in Shouto’s arms made you feel safe, protected from the troubles of life. You already harbored silly feelings for him before you had even met him, and now that you had, those feelings had only been amplified, each day spent with him a catalyst to the reaction he triggered in your heart.

You bit your lip, twisting your spine so you could look at him. Holding your breath as you finally laid eyes on him, you took your time to admire him in all his slumbered glory. Your eyes loitered on his high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jawline, and then the placid expression he donned while he slept, not plagued with the usual lacing of concern that he wore throughout the day. He was so… handsome. In all his hardened, heroic glory, he still managed to look like a prince straight out of every little girl’s storybook. And he certainly had the body to go with it as well— the fruits of his training on full display for you as you marveled at his naked chest.

Your heart leapt into your throat when he stirred, his arm around your waist coming to rub at his tired eyes. Watching his grey eye open slightly, your breath caught at the crooked grin that blossomed on his lips when he locked eyes with you.

“Mmm morning princess,” he rumbled, hand landing on your stomach to push your body backwards into his. He didn’t mind the little squeak of surprise you let out, nuzzling his face into your neck and slinging his leg across your hips once he flattened them onto the mattress. Your face felt like it was on fire, his morning… problem pressed firmly against your back now as he moaned in content, scattering lazy kisses across your throat.

You gasped when his hand on your stomach suddenly jumped up to grope your breast over your shirt, his fingers kneading tenderly as tingles fired across your nerves. It felt good to be receiving his unbridled affection— too good, really, as he started to suck at your neck. Your body cried out for his touch but you had barely even kissed last night— this was too much, too fast.

“Sh-Shouto!”

He paused, head rearing back as he detected the urgency in your voice, sleepy eyes locking with yours with his brows furrowed underneath his frazzled bed-head. It took him a moment before his eyes widened and horror replaced the slumber that had impeded his judgement before, his body jumping to the other side of the bed instantly as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I— I’m so sorry, Y/n, fuck— I didn’t…” he stammered, embarrassment evident as the pink turned to red, little flames sprouting on the left side of his head while his eyes flew about, unable to meet your gaze.

You instantly felt guilty, his demeanor apologetic. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I was just… it was just, um, unexpected?” you tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a choke.

“Damn it…” Shouto mumbled, his hands coming to drag across his face morosely. The flames that licked at his side sizzled out, indicating that he was no longer so much shocked as he was contrite. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, muffled by his hands that still occupied his face. “It was just… I forgot for a second and... I didn’t mean to— to, well, come onto you. God, I’m sorry.”

You watched him for a second, your heart suddenly heavy with the sadness that leaked from his choice of words. For the first time in a long time, he had woken up with you in his arms, and he had forgotten about the absolute shitstorm of the month he’d had. That was probably how he acted when he woke up normally, as your sweet and loving boyfriend— showering you in affection was his first instinct of the day, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“It’s really okay, Sho. I was just surprised,” you peeped, trying to relieve him of some of the stress that he was so apparently harboring. “It’s not like I hated it…”

Shouto processed your words for a moment before one hand rose from his face, his brow contorted into a mix between accusatory and suggestive. There was a hint of a smile threatening to bloom on his lips, but he remained silent as he stared at you.

“I just meant that— well… we could lay here for a bit before we get up for the day. If… If that’s our usual routine or, if you would be interested in that!” You could feel your face getting hot now, the embarrassment transferring from him to you.

But Shouto chose not to tease you, instead scooting back over to you in the middle of the bed. “You always did like your morning cuddles,” he said, mouth turning at the corners into a smirk.

“Whatever, just— just keep your third leg to yourself, okay? Arms only!” You shared a quick look with him, the both of you shocked that you had really just said that.

But Shouto followed your request, flipping so he laid on his belly before his arm hooked out to bring you into his side, nose pressing up against your ear as you were on your back. The butterflies were back and busy again in your stomach— his touch just did something to you, it was both exhilarating and infuriating when he had hardly done anything. 

“Never heard that one before,” he murmured lowly, snark lurking in his voice. “You’re usually quite fond of my third leg, dear.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

The rest of the morning went more according to plan. After a considerable amount of time lying in the sheets with Shouto cuddling into your side, you finally parted ways and went about getting ready for the day. There was a sense of giddiness pumping through your veins as your boyfriend left you stationed in front of your closet, mumbling something about preparation before you headed out.

Mostly, you were looking forward to going on your date. But then, there was also the surprised excitement that came from the sight of your walk-in closet, complete with rows of neatly organized clothes and a built-in wall with shelves and drawers, even a glass display case full of glittering jewels and gems in designs all tailored to your taste. You took a moment to pat yourself on the back. Not only did you seem to have the man of your dreams, but you had also attained your dream closet? If this was truly a dream, you most definitely did not want to wake up.

It took you an absurdly long amount of time to piece together your outfit. It was partially because you stopped to ogle at pretty much every hanger you rifled through, and partially because you were completely unsure of what clothes Shouto particularly enjoyed seeing you in. There was a sneaking suspicion that his preference was for you to not be clothed at all… but it wasn’t like you could go out on your date in your birthday suit. And, that would mean exposing your bare body to him, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t insanely attracted to him— because you definitely were. Just, the situation you were in was a delicate one, and when you did decide to indulge in the physicalities of your relationship, it would be after you had no more questions to ask him. You just weren’t quite there yet.

So, you decided on a pair of dark jeans and a flowy blouse that showcased your shoulders, matching the color of your shoes, belt, and purse. After a quick makeup routine, you chose to spruce up the outfit with a little jewelry, seeing as you had quite an ample selection to choose from. A shiny pair of hoops for your ears came easily enough, but you struggled to find a necklace which would pull everything together. Your eyes wandered over the chains of gold and silver, some shining with bright gems and some intricate enough with just the curve of the metal. It was then that you noticed a simple but very elegant necklace, its blue-topaz pendant catching your gaze. As you inspected the glittering stone, a warm feeling pooled in your chest, and you found your fingers reaching for the jewelry without thought. There was something special about this necklace, but what, exactly, you couldn’t identify.

It was incredibly frustrating. This was the closest you had come to remembering anything since you had woken up a week ago… and while it was certainly progress, it was infuriating to have the recollection dangling just barely out of your reach. You stared at the brilliant cyan gem for another moment before deciding that you weren’t going to remember based on willpower alone, securing the clasp around your neck. If that were the case, then you would have your memory back already, you were sure. You left the room with your shoes in hand, sock-clad feet padding quietly against the shiny hardwood floors while a sour taste dwelled on the back of your tongue.

Yet somehow, the second your eyes met Shouto’s, the feeling of self-loathing was instantly quelled, replaced with a pleasant wave of some feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes had locked onto the stone around your neck right as you walked into the kitchen, and immediately a smile graced his lips as he found your gaze.

You couldn’t help but return one, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning to him, overwhelmed with the tingles that zipped through you. He hadn’t really given you the chance to take in the outfit he had chosen before he left you to dress, and you found yourself appreciating the soft, cream sweater that fell just over his denim-clad hips.

“Wow, you look…” his eyes trailed down your form and then back up, his smile just as full. He let out a soft laugh, head tilting back before his attention returned to you, as if he didn’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You already knew you looked good, but still, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue made your stomach leap up beside your heart. “Thank you, Sho. You look beautiful, too,” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

Even though his cheeks dusted with a light pink, his expression remained unchanged, gaze dropping to the pendant resting in the middle of your chest again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.

Just as you were about to tell him about the feeling you’d gotten earlier, he turned and grabbed some things from the counter behind him, whisking them into his arms. There was a curious look you shot him as you examined the numerous hats he offered to you, one of your brows rising at the variety.

Shouto didn’t give you the chance to ask, launching into explanation without your prompt. “You and I are technically celebrities. So it’s best if we conceal our faces while we’re out in public.” His gaze dropped to the brim of the gray suede boater in his hand, his thumb trailing across the soft material. “I don’t want you ambushed today. The public has missed you while you’ve been out of commission, so if we’re spotted, I’ll have to share you… and I don’t think either of us is ready for that quite yet.”

You nodded, ignoring the giddiness that bloomed in the depths of your stomach at his choice of words. Reaching for a floppy hat, your fingers brushed over his sweater as you grabbed your choice of camouflage. The fit was snug around your head, the silky ribbon tied around the crown the perfect match to your shoes. Shouto put on his hat as well, making sure to tuck the white half of his hair up and out of sight, giving him a faux monochromatic appearance. He wordlessly handed you a pair of large sunglasses, which you slid onto your face without protest. He mirrored your action, choosing a dark pair of aviators that helped disguise his famous scar.

“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin for full emphasis. The movement put a little smile on Shouto’s face, his eyes roaming your figure leisurely before he offered a thumbs up.

“Enchanting as always, love,” he replied stoically, the suavity and candor of his response aiding to the warm, swirling feeling in your stomach. But his expression morphed into a playful smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about me?”

A laugh trickled out of you as he copied your twirl, his execution somehow more graceful than yours. His pink lips curled into a genuine smile at your giggle, ending his mock demonstration in a curtsey. This only caused you to swat at him in exaggeration, taking the first steps towards the door.

“Equally enchanting,” you replied, not a hint of a lie in your voice. Your conviction made Shouto stutter, his grin melting to a flustered purse of the lip. It was then that you took his hand decisively, chuckling as you placed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Ready to go.”

It took him a moment to buffer, but he quickly recovered, a warm flush coloring his cheeks as his fingers squeezed yours. The digits of his other hand curled around the small of your waist, guiding you through the door.

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Your eyes widened as Shouto pulled the sleek car into the parking space, your surroundings somewhat familiar. When you had asked where he was taking you, he hadn’t revealed any clues, preferring to give a vague “someplace you’ll enjoy” before effectively killing the conversation. You probably should’ve expected it, but surprise overtook you as you turned the sidewalk corner and there stood the cat cafe the pair of you had passed on your way back from the hospital just yesterday.

When you turned to look at Shouto, his eyes were already inspecting your reaction, the excitement written obviously all over your face. He regarded you with a quiet, knowing smile as he opened the door for you, the bell tinkling overhead and the quiet mewls of kittens further inside distinctly ringing in your ears. Right as you stepped inside, a fluffy, smoosh-face cat curled around your ankles, brushing and sniffing at you in greeting. Shouto made a joke about the fluffy beast being the cutest host he’d ever seen, his smile only growing when you laughed in return.

Once you were seated, tucked in a comfy pair of chairs in the corner of the cafe, a waitress came over to take your orders. What took you by surprise was that Shouto ordered for you— the exact confection and drink you were eyeing when you peeked at the menu. He shot you a little smirk at the cuteness of your impressed expression, asking if you’d like to add anything and turning the staff person's attention to you. At your denial, they excused themself, leaving you alone with Shouto once more.

There was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, the other cafe goers could practically see the sparks flying between you.

“So… do we come here a lot?” you inquired, taking a tentative sip of your ice water and training your eyes on the top button of his shirt. It was just too intense to stare him straight in the eye sometimes…

Shouto took a moment to reply, looking through his red and white bangs at you fondly, leaning back in his chair before shaking his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never been here before.” He gauged the surprise in your eyes, a little knowing smile resting on his plump lip before he continued. “You always wanted to try this place but we hadn’t gotten around to it… you even picked out the food you wanted in case we came. I hope your tastes remain unchanged? If I ordered something you don’t want, I’ll call the waiter over.”

It was then your turn to shake your head, a quick and decisive answer. “No, you got it right,” you reassured, hands wringing slowly underneath the table in your lap. “The only other thing I wanted to try was the drink you ordered, so it’s fine!”

“Have as much as you like,” he suavely suggested, his tone sounding more like a demand than an offer. Just as he focused his eyes on yours, he was interrupted by a fuzzy orange kitten jumping into his lap, settling into a tiny loaf across his thighs and staring up at him expectantly.

You and Shouto both buffered for a moment before you let out a laugh at the sight of such a tiny creature in your broad boyfriend’s embrace. Shouto began to chuckle too, giving the creature a little scratch under the chin. The kitten meowed happily in agreement, placing its head onto its paws and settling in for a nap. You let the comfortable silence last for a minute before you meandered back into conversation.

“So um, earlier, when we were getting ready to go out…,” your fingers absentmindedly wandered to the pendant resting in the middle of your collar bones. “I saw this necklace in my closet and I felt like it was… important? And then I thought I caught you looking at it earlier too maybe? Do you know if it has any significant meaning or anything?”

Shouto’s gaze remained on the cat in his lap for another moment before it flicked over to you, and once again, you were stunned by the amount of emotion in his mismatched eyes. “I gave it to you,” he answered, his free hand fiddling with the sunglasses that now hung in the middle of his shirt collar. “It was for our first anniversary.”

You didn't really know what to make of that, the newfound knowledge resonating through you as you tried to remember anything about that day at all.

“I chose that color because you said you loved it… the color of my eyes. Or— eye— I suppose,” he gestured to the piercing cerulean orb that rested on his hot side, standing out even more against the muddled skin of his scar.

Your head nodded as you processed his answer, your finger nudging at the handle of your cutlery absentmindedly. “You do have nice eyes,” you mumbled, your veins pumping with a warmth you'd come to recognize as his natural effect on you.

Shouto smiled at that, his gaze focused on the pendant gleaming in the sun’s gentle caress. You could feel the intensity of his eyes there in the center of your chest, the modest amount of exposed cleavage feeling hot under his inspection.

At his silence, you continued on, your flusteredness forcing your mouth to move without much reason. “And— you have great taste in jewelry too, I mean, this is really beautiful.”

“It suits you,” he replied instantly, as if such words required no thought whatsoever.

That just made your cheeks feel even hotter, and a surprised chuckle sounded past your lips, his compliment egging on the butterfly swarm in your belly. “Thank you… I’m glad you have enough rationale to avoid a cheesy heart with your name on it or something.”

Shouto’s eyes fleed yours at that, taking a tentative sip of his water. You watched his pink lips curl into a subtle, knowing smirk. He yelped when you kicked his ankle underneath the table, gaze returning to you. He regarded your inquisitorial expression for a moment before he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with the lightest of pinks. “I have actually given you something like that before…”

You bit your lip, now wanting to kick yourself for making fun of the sweet yet idiotic, classic boyfriend gift. Heart jewelry, of course…

“And you really liked it… maybe almost as much as me,” he finished, and you watched as his blush deepened a few shades.

The waiter chose that moment to deliver your drinks, the conversation halting awkwardly before they took their leave once again.

“I really liked it?” You parroted, perplexed. There was no way you would find such a cheesy gift endearing enough to actually enjoy it.

Shouto adjusted himself in his chair, clearing his throat awkwardly. His eyes once again couldn’t meet yours, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. “Yeah it— it’s an anklet… it um, has my initials on the charm…” he mumbled, suddenly shy. “You seem to enjoy wearing it when we… when I— when I take you.”

“Oh.”

Your face felt on fire, neither of you brave enough to look each other in the eye following his confession. There wasn’t much you knew about your sex life with Shouto— though you assumed it to be very much alive, and healthily so— but just by the way he phrased that, your thighs were clenching together at the image your brain so kindly painted you.

Shouto was a big, strong man… one who was very proportional, as you recalled from the incident that occurred this morning. The thought of him taking you made your insides squirm with interest, fluttering at the premise of being stretched around him. You took another sip of your drink before the food thankfully arrived, allowing the pair of you to drop the conversation.

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

After you finished eating, Shouto took you to the trader’s market around the corner. There were people crowding the streets and trickling through the crosswalks, even though it was a late morning on a Friday and most of the population should’ve been busying away at their jobs. The bustle of the city should’ve been overwhelming for you— Shouto kept you close to his side at all times, his gaze scrutinizing any looks that lasted too long toward your direction.  And yet, you were having a blast, flittering about and exploring the vendors’ stands and the numerous trinket stalls that lined the busy square. His hand was always holding yours. Even when you got more invested in the items on display before you, his fingers would linger at your waist, making his relationship to you apparent to any bystanders.

Sunlight streamed down in between the tall buildings surrounding you, reflecting off the windows like mirrors and making you grateful for the shade of your hat. That made you extra thankful for the ghost of Shouto’s hand across your skin, welcoming the coolness exuding off of his right side. There was a light-hearted conversation between the pair of you, and many grannies waved you over to inspect their merchandise by calling out to the pair of lovebirds. The repeated label made Shouto puff up in pride, aiding him to stand tall and retain the advantage he had on you in terms of height.

Whenever your gaze lingered on something for a second too long, Shouto was instantly handing bills over to the merchants, insisting they take the change or at least tipping them appreciatively. By the time the two of you had visited every stall, numerous bags hung from his left arm, all precariously stacked so the fingers on his other hand could remain laced with yours.

He noticed your wary gaze on the bags, your expression giving your thoughts away immediately. “Don’t worry love,” he reassured, squeezing your fingers in his, “they’re no trouble at all.” At your attempt to grab a few and lessen the load, he pivoted and held them above your head. He frowned, keeping them out of reach as you continued your attempt, swatting at him gently.

“Just let me have one at least,” you pouted, your voice morphing into a little whine. That got him to grin, conceding and handing you the smallest, lightest bag of the bunch. He feigned ignorance when you shot him a playful glare in response, choosing now to steer you toward another topic instead.

“Would it ruin the date if we stopped by my office? I just need to drop off the folders I finished up last night, and the building is just a block over. It should only take a minute.”

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Sure,” you agreed, allowing his fingers to slip back into yours. Having your hand in his felt natural to you, the warmth of his skin welcomed. “I want to see your agency, anyway!”

It was a short walk to his workplace, as promised. The building was one of the tallest in the surrounding area, with sleek windows paneling all sides and reflecting the orange light of the barely-setting sun. The security guards didn’t bother the pair of you, Shouto acknowledging them with a nod as he slipped off his disguise. The elevator opened and Shouto flashed his badge at the sensor, then pushed the button for one of the floors higher up in the building.

In no time at all, the doors opened again and he led you past the couple secretaries that were perched behind their desks. You could feel their eyes glued to your back, and you were sure that the second you were safely located behind the glass doors to the hallway, they’d launch into discussion. The thought slipped your mind as you came round the corner, Shouto guiding you through the nearest door and ushering you into a large sitting room. Two doors were situated on either side of the room, long glass walls dividing the quarters. One door led to Shouto’s office, as designated by the nearby nameplate. The other you were about to read just as it opened, and a familiar, sharp-toothed redhead bounded toward the pair of you.

Immediately you grinned, ripping your hand from Shouto’s as you launched yourself at the famed Red Riot, one of Japan’s finest heroes lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace. Your laughs echoed around the room, Kirishima’s chuckles following as he spun you around. Shouto watched silently, a small frown adorning his lip while your gleeful laughs met his ears. He hadn’t heard such a sound in what seemed like forever, and even though he was not the cause of it, he couldn’t help but relish in it.

After a moment, Kirishima put you down and pulled Shouto in for a quick half-hug, patting him on the shoulder as his eyes then returned to you. “Well look who it is,” he grinned, his pointy teeth on display, hands landing on his narrow hips. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Y/n.”

“It’s good to see you too, Kiri,” you mirrored his expression, taking in his appearance.

Shouto watched your eyes rove over him, a sour taste developing at the back of his tongue. You had recognized Kirishima immediately— fondly, even— when it had taken hard work and ample time for you to warm up to him. It had taken a week for you to call him by his usual nickname, and yet, you called Kirishima by his own instantly. He could feel himself turning green at the realization, his frown remaining as his eyes sharpened in scrutiny.

“Wow,” you exclaimed after you had fully appraised the hero, even taking in the scarlet costume that had been updated since the last time you’d seen him. “You look great! Five years has really done you well, hmm? You’re totally ripped. Last time I saw you I swear you were shorter!”

Kirishima laughed and toed at the ground bashfully— never one to handle compliments very well. “Ah, thanks Y/n… gotta stay in shape when your costume has you shirtless all day, right?”

Shouto couldn’t help the envy that rose up inside of him as he watched you chatter eagerly with his coworker… even though he knew you had no control of what memories you lost, it still stung to watch you engage with and compliment another man. Especially when he hadn’t received such easy affection from you in much too long.

“You look much better, too,” Kirishima continued, glancing at Shouto as he picked up on the temperature drop in the room. Somehow you didn’t seem to notice the frost gathering on Shouto’s wrist as a result of his displeasure.  “Erm— last time I saw you was in the hospital when you were still in your coma. I was so relieved to hear you woke up! Then I figured it would be easier for you if you didn’t have any visitors, though… that’s what your f— um, Shouto said would be best, anyway.”  

At the mention of his name, you glanced at the half-and-half man beside you, shooting him a thankful smile that had his heart fluttering and his jealousy waning. He cleared his throat and nodded, casting a forced smile at the other hero. “Yes, well… I have to step into my office quickly, would you entertain her for a moment?”

Kirishima opened his mouth to reply, but Shouto was already halfway through the door, leaving the pair of you slightly stunned. You could see him through the glass wall, eyes following him and wondering why his curt attitude left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“So um…” The redhead turned to look at you, prompting you to do the same. “You really lost all your memories of him?”

The question hit you like he had dunked you in ice cold water, and you stiffened up immediately. Kirishima panicked then, eyes growing wide and covering his mouth.

“I can’t believe I just blurted that out— I just… You guys are so in love, I can’t imagine you two not together,” he explained earnestly, his brow furrowed. His honesty made your stomach burst with butterflies, the premise of being loved by Shouto and being able to love him made you feel flustered as hell.

“We are together,” you clarified, and Kirishima nodded. “Just not as together as before, I guess? It’s just… he makes me feel so many things and I barely know him. But he knows me? Like, intimately. It feels like he knows me more than I know myself sometimes. I dunno, it’s just… complicated, Kiri.”

He smiled in understanding, eyes sympathetic as you spilled your troubles to him. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t Shouto— as much as you liked him, talking to him was difficult because he made you fumble with your words. You said things you didn’t mean to say when you were with him. Kirishima continued, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you guys are crazy in love. Like, you’re the couple I aspire to be in some day.”

You grabbed his hand and grinned at that, his sincerity making your heart melt. “Awe, Kiri… It’s good to see you haven’t changed from how I remember you. You’re still the sweetest.”

Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just be yourself with him… I think it’ll put you both at ease. You’re really good for each other— he was devastated the whole time you were asleep.”

The admission made a lump appear in your throat, your eyes feeling glassy all the sudden.

“He hasn’t acted this frigid since his high school days… Long before he met you. I think you make him feel relaxed. I mean, that’s how he always looks when he’s with you, or thinking about you. I can tell when we’re on patrol and he’s daydreaming about you, ‘cus he’ll just walk right into a lamp pole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, cursing the timing when the door opened and Shouto stepped out, his eyes landing on you and then hardening as they moved to Kirishima. He stepped toward him, but you intercepted him and laced your arms around his middle instead, stopping him with your embrace.

Shouto faltered at the sudden display of affection, his cheeks growing hot as he locked gazes with Kirishima, his eyes then dropping to the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. He was frozen mid-breath, completely still as you held him. His cool, clean scent swallowed you as you kept your head nuzzled into his front, his fingers limp as your hand found his.

With a small step back, you ceased your embrace, your fingers squeezing his tightly as your eyes captured his and you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks only darkened, the grimace that had occupied his face long gone and instead replaced with an awed blankness. His lips parted and moved pointlessly, as if he wanted to say something but no sound escaped him.

“It was nice catching up Kiri,” you said, eyes still locked with Shouto’s heterochromatic ones before you turned to the red hero, who was awkwardly looking to the side as he shuffled his weight between his feet.

Kirishima looked at you and laughed awkwardly once again. You began to exit with Shouto in tow behind you, the hero’s crimson gaze following the pair of you. “Ah, yeah, you too! Let’s meet up soon!”

Then the glass door closed, and you were once again in the vicinity of the secretaries' blatant gawking. You pointedly ignored them as you strode toward the elevator, with their soundlessly boss still trailing behind you. As you waited for the elevator to ascend to your floor, you caught Shouto looking at you funny in your peripheral vision. Yet when you turned to look at him, he only reached out and pulled you into his chest.

Caught by surprise, a meek noise slipped out of you before you collided with his pecs once again, his arms wrapping around you to secure you in place. He nuzzled into your hair and inhaled deeply, uncaring of the secretaries' stares.

Only when the elevator arrived did he pull away, to guide you inside and away from the prying eyes. When the doors were closed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the crest of your cheek, a wisp of his peppermint-laced breath cooling your skin just as heat rushed there from his lips.

“Let’s go home, love,” Shouto murmured against your skin, knuckles nudging yours before your fingers curled around his. You nodded, holding his arm with your free hand and coming to stand by his side as the elevator rushed toward the ground. A peaceful moment of silence fell upon you and Shouto, giving you time for contemplation.

Any sane woman would've taken one look at Kirishima and felt at least a pinch of interest twirl inside her stomach. He was caring and handsome as they come, and yet he did absolutely nothing for you. Somehow when you were confronted with his chiseled abs and warm gaze, you felt less than when Shouto even glanced at you. You concluded that your body was definitely in love with him… and your heart longed to be the same. But part of you still had questions that needed to be resolved before you could really give yourself to him… and little did he know, you would find the answers to said questions so soon.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

ahh i love this sho so much, he’s trying so hard... poor babie 🥺 next part i will be much kinder to him <3 if you enjoyed please be sure to reblog and or leave me a comment •ᴥ• 

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki angst #shouto anagst #shoto angst #bnha angst #mha angst #todoroki smut #shouto smut #shoto smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki fluff #shouto fluff #shoto fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #my fics #series: aMTO

[2goth2moth]

Any sort of smut with a naga or feral mothman like creature please and thank you

Anon, you said "naga" and my lil scaly heart got so happy. I have no idea if this is even remotely in the realm of what you were looking for, but I just couldn't shake the idea of a human prince with a harem full of monsters. I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Prince's Favour (M!Naga x M!Reader, NSFW)

For reference: Enéas is a Brazilian rainbow boa. I was 100% going to have a blowjob scene in this but rainbow boas have backwards hooked teeth (think fishhooks) that are designed to not let things back out, and having that near your dick sounds like a very bad time.

Word count: 3514

Includes: Power dynamics (prince x concubine), non-human genitalia, rough sex, double penetration, a little bit of crying

Being the youngest prince in a kingdom with a still-living king could be overwhelmingly boring. Matters of state were passed to your parents and eldest sister, matters of security to your next oldest sibling, infrastructure and agriculture to the next oldest, twin brothers. Your bloodline was long and vital, which was very good for the kingdom’s longevity. It was not so good for keeping you occupied. Your role, as well as your youngest sister’s, ended up being almost completely performative, with official duties being limited to keeping up a royal education and looking pretty beside your family during public appearances. The whole arrangement left you with a lot of free time to eat and draw and lounge about.

And have sex.

It was normal for royalty to have lovers or harems, if they wanted to and their spouses were okay with it. You yourself had several lovers, all of whom you enjoyed and cared about deeply. One of whom was currently lounging invitingly on your bed as you did your best to capture his likeness in paint.

“Enéas, beloved, can you hold still for me?”

The naga groaned, the muscular coils of his body shifting slightly as he did. “I’ve been sitting for hours now. When you called me, I didn’t think it would be for this.”

“Ten minutes, then we can do something else. I swear.”

The look that he shot you was long-suffering, but he settled back into the purposefully relaxed position you had directed him into earlier after taking a sip from the goblet beside him.The whole thing was mostly an act. You had been summoning him to your chambers to sit for this painting on a regular basis for the past month, and no matter where the sessions ended (often with you wrapped firmly in his powerful body), you never put on any airs about what those first few hours would entail.

Golden sunlight shone through gauzy curtains and spilled onto Enéas’ skin, setting the scales ablaze. The round black marks that lay over red scales the colour of baked clay were already beautiful, but under the sun’s rays he was cast in a rainbow sheen, every scale shimmering like an oil slick. The creamy scales of his underbelly flowed from his face all the way down, flashing like pale moonlight between his darker coils. Naga rarely wore clothing, they had no real need to, but Enéas had certainly developed a taste for finery during his time in the palace. Fine, sheer cotton, dyed snowy white and rich yellow, draped around him like woven light, held in place by gold clasps. Cuffs set with precious stones circled on his wrists and biceps, and a beautiful metal collar engraved with intricate patterns lay flat against his throat.

“You’re staring, little prince.”

The rasping taunt broke you out of your stupor, and you realized that your eyes had been locked on him, paintbrush unmoving on your canvas. You finished the stroke you had started with a careful flick. Stepping back a little, you surveyed what you had done so far. The hours spent on the portrait had been worth it, and even though it wasn’t done, you could stand to be finished for the day.

“I was distracted,” you said. “You were distracting me.”

A cheeky grin split Enéas’s face. It was hard-edged and full of sharp, hooked teeth, stretching far past what it would have on a human face, but managed to be as lovely and charming as it was frightening. “I have no idea what you mean. I was only sitting here, just like you asked me to.”

“Sitting there in a very distracting way.” You wiped your hands on the sturdy apron you wore before untying it and discarding it messily to the side. “We’re done for today, you can relax now.”

“Finally.” He stretched his arms above his head and groaned loudly before flopping back and letting his eyes close. The movement sent his whole body rippling in the sunlight, and the sight made your mouth go dry.

You strode towards the bed, closing the distance quickly to sit beside Enéas on your plush bedspread. He didn’t even open his eyes when the mattress dipped under your weight. With a feather-light touch, you traced the features of his face with a thumb. The transition from red to white around what would be a hairline was first, the gradient of the small scales dipping low on his forehead and contouring under his eye sockets, the way it pulled back on his temples. The flat bridge of his nose, his sharp jaw, the mouth stretching almost the entire way along the hollows of his cheeks. He just barely leaned into every touch, doing a very good job of pretending like he didn’t care about you sitting next to him and touching him like he was something precious. Each one of his breaths fanned upwards, over your face, and it smelled like the sweet lime cordial he drank moments before.

Your thumb continued its path around his face until it caught on the center on his bottom lip. One of his eyes drifted open, pupil an inky slit on yellow-green sclera, and he parted his lips just enough for his long, forked tongue to flicker out. It wound around the digit, brushing against your knuckles and the sensitive skin between your fingers. Cold spit cooled even further on your skin as Enéas licked over your hand. In a single swift movement he dipped his head forward to take your thumb fully in his mouth. You froze. His lips tightened around it and he sucked, tongue still working you over. You could feel your cock start to fill and you pressed in and down, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the floor of Enéas’ mouth. A low, raspy moan rumbled through him, eyes fluttering closed and back arching prettily.

Putting more pressure on his mouth, you hooked your thumb behind the bone of his lower jaw and forced it down, exposing hooked teeth and making his tongue loll. “Get me ready, beloved, and be thorough.” You leaned down to press a sweet kiss to the edge of his scaly jaw. “I want both of them today.”

Enéas’s eyes snapped open. His pupils were blown wide in excitement and arousal, and he flickered his tongue out over your skin again before pulling you down next to him with firm hands. Those same hands didn’t hesitate to begin roaming over your body, making quick work of the fastenings keeping your tunic and trousers closed before pulling his own scant clothing off.

“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” he said. The sound was already breathless, and sounded so beautiful that it hurt.

He stripped you of your clothing with an impossible combination of speed and reverence, each touch against your skin burning with affection. Pushing you fully onto your back, he slithered around you, smooth scales dragging against your increasingly bare skin until you lay cradled in his strong coils. A heavy tail coaxed your legs apart as large hands began mapping a path down your body. They skimmed over your throat and chest, pausing to tease each of your nipples to full hardness, and drifted lower, caressing your waist and stomach, scratching soft patterns onto your hips and buttocks, before landing on your thighs. His cool, clever mouth soon followed. A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss landed above your pulse, then the base of your neck, trailing cold saliva over your shoulders and down your breastbone. You moaned quietly, unbidden, and your back arched up off the bed, eyes fluttering closed. Your world narrowed to sensation: the chill on your skin, the plush mattress underneath you, the smooth rasp of scales around you. Enéas’ hands lovingly massaging your thighs.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp when you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples. You could feel his smile against your skin as he suckled on the hardened nub. A little jolt went through you as those wicked teeth grazed over the delicate skin, your cock twitching where it now lay fully erect on your belly. One of his hands wandered up to play with the flushed head, dipping into the pre-cum pooling under it before raising his hand and licking his fingers clean.

Gripping his chin, you dragged his face up to meet yours. “I believe I told you to prepare me, Enéas.” The way you said his name managed to land somewhere between sweetly teasing and bitterly displeased. “We may be lovers, but I am still a prince. This may have been my mistake, though, maybe I wasn’t clear enough for you.” You pulled him up further, tucking your mouth beside his ear so that you could whisper directly to him. “Prepare me, my love, and do it nice and thorough. After you’re done, you will fuck me, with both cocks, until I can’t speak or until you fill me with your cum. Whichever comes later. Am I understood?”

Enéas smiled, pupils completely dilated, and dipped his head down to kiss you. It was salty and bitter from your pre-cum, with the barest hint of the lime cordial underneath. “As you wish, my prince.”

He sat back and lowered himself so that he was lying on his front between your legs. The coil of his body that had been pressing one of your legs open dug in harder, pulling your thigh even further out, and he threw your other leg over his shoulder to get better access between your cheeks. His big hands dug in and pulled them apart, exposing your tight hole to the air of the room. He breathed over it, pressing wet, biting kisses onto the supple flesh of your ass before slipping his tongue out and running it all the way from your hole to your balls. The long, slender fork in the muscle wrapped around you, almost delicately, spreading cold saliva over your balls and the base of your shaft. The chill was a brief shock against your skin that sent sparks zipping through you, making you drop your head back onto the mattress and forcing your breaths out in stuttering pants.

Enéas continued alternating between licking at your rim, just barely breaching the ring of muscle with the tips of his tongue, and suckling gently at your sac, each motion drawing desperate little noises out of you. It felt wonderful, but it was nowhere near enough. Somewhere in your mind you had a brief argument with yourself about whether it would be worth it to abandon all semblance of power and control that you had in order to grind your hips back on his face. On one hand, you were royalty, even splayed naked on your bed, and you liked to hold onto that for as long as you could. On the other, the feeling of his cool scales and wet, fluttering tongue was very rapidly driving that particular thing down your list of concerns.

All of that was wiped from your mind when you felt the blunt tip of one of Enéas’ fingers, slicked with oil from a vial he must have hidden somewhere on him when he started moving. It circled your hole slowly, deliberately, pressing just inside every so often, coaxing the muscle to loosen with practiced care. You wanted to squirm, to tense up under the teasing touches, but you forced yourself to breathe through it and relax as much as possible. This earned you a raspy noise of approval and a kiss to your sensitive inner thigh from your naga lover.

Seconds later, it also earned you one of his gloriously thick fingers carefully worked all the way inside you. Your back curved off the bed, a quiet moan spilling from your lips. He pumped it in and out a few times, just starting to open you up enough for him to continue. As soon as you relaxed, unconscious fists unclenching from the bedspread, a second finger, thick and wet with oil, joined the first. He twisted the two about inside you. Each motion dragged the subtle ridges of his scales along your inner walls, and when he crooked his knuckles deep inside you, you arched up with a breathless moan.

“Ohhhh, fuck.”

Enéas’ head emerged from between your legs, and he smirked at you as he began scissoring his fingers, stretching your rim, brushing up against the spot of blinding pleasure on every thrust. “Well, Your Royal Highness? Am I pleasing you now?”

“You would be pleasing me more if you got on with it,” you snarked at him. He grinned back at you, the tremor in your voice and the way that your whole body had begun quivering betrayed your pleasure too much for him to ever believe that you were honestly upset.

“As my prince wishes.”

He raised himself so that he was braced overtop of you, and he rubbed the head of his upper dick over your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed him teasing his cocks erect and out of the slit that usually kept them hidden, but it wouldn’t surprise you if that was what he had been doing with his other hand while prepping you. A sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth was the only warning you got before he pushed into you with near-maddening gentleness. His cocks were more slender than the average human’s, but they were longer, and were covered with nubby barbs of flexible cartilage that caught deliciously inside you whenever he pulled back. He started rocking his hips into yours, getting deeper and deeper with each stroke, dick not close to filling you up but the barbs stimulating you plenty all on their own. You moaned slightly each time he drew back, cock leaking even more pre-cum between your bodies. Waiting until he was fully seated inside you, body flush against your ass, he began gently massaging your hole, the muscle already stretched tight around him. He moved his fingers in sync with his shallow thrusts, slowly but surely opening your hole enough for him to slip his second cock inside.

You were moaning even more loudly now, shuddering noises of pleasure leaving your lips every time Enéas fucked into you or pressed in on your entrance. His finger disappeared from your skin briefly after a particularly rough thrust left you panting and teary-eyed. You whined at the loss, wriggling further back on his dick. Another rough drive of his hips sent your back arching painfully, mouth dropping open as his index finger slipped into you alongside his shaft.

“Nngg, ah-- fuck, so-oo good,” you mewled.

Enéas started fucking into you with even more ferocity, making your whole body move every single time his hips slammed into your ass. Your cock slapped up onto your stomach with an obscenely wet sound, and left wet smears of clear fluid on your skin each time it hit you. The sounds coming out of you were starting to sound desperate, morphing from regular moans of pleasure to pitiful little whimpers and gasps. You were so overwhelmed by the way that his cock reached so deep inside you and caught so gloriously coming back out that you didn’t even notice a second fingertip tease your rim. You didn’t notice it until the smoothly scaled digit thrust into you alongside his first one. The feeling of it, the stretch of your rim definitely painful now, ripped a shattered cry from you.

Your whole body was tensed up, chest heaving with panting breaths. “Oh shit. Enéas, I’m going to…”

The hand he had been using to hold himself above you darted downwards and locked in a tight ring around the base of your steadily leaking cock. The crescendo quickly building in the pit of your stomach was stopped in its tracks, and you wailed at the blocking of your orgasm. Enéas smirked wickedly at you before lowering his mouth to graze lightly over one of your nipples.

“Patience, little prince,” he chided, “Just hold on a little longer, and you can cum on both of my cocks.”

Each word he spoke was punctuated by him driving his barbed shaft into you and scissoring his fingers wider and wider. Somewhere in the haze of your almost-climax he had stuck a third finger into your hole, and all of them were now stretching you out as far as you could go. His big arms wrapped around your back and he aggressively hoisted you upwards, forcing you to wrap your legs around his body. He slipped his fingers out of you, and almost immediately his lower cock replaced it. The shaft was thicker, the head a little more bulbous, and it filled you up so wonderfully next to his other one. Once he was fully seated, he went still to let you get used to the intense stretch inside of you. You tried to wriggle about in his arm to get him even deeper inside of you, but he used both arms to grip you tight to his body, keeping you still. That mouth of his kept lovingly licking over your chest, going slack to let saliva leak out over his lips and onto your skin.

With a firm grip on your hips and an almost painful amount of care, Enéas lifted you up until only the heads of his dicks remained inside of you. Realizing what he was about to do, you stopped writhing in his grasp, relaxing as much as the position allowed. He hissed a thanks into the thin skin above your breastbone. A slight shift of his weight so that all of his coils lay firmly beneath him, and he lowered you almost all the way down onto him. He pressed sweet kisses to the base of your sternum, then each of your nipples, then to the side of your throat. Settling his face into the warm crook of your neck, he began to raise and lower your along his shafts, using your body to fuck himself to completion.

This new position made his cocks reach impossibly deeper inside of you, spines rubbing against that sweet spot with each stroke. You dropped your head forward against Enéas’ shoulder, moaning loudly. With his previous fierce grip on your tortured cock gone, you felt your orgasm begin to build again. Clear pre-cum dripped out of your slick head and smeared between your bodies. He kept bouncing you on him, breath coming out ragged against your neck as he chased after his own climax.

“Holy shit-- that’s so good…”

Your mouth hung open as heat bubbled up in your gut. You tried to warn Enéas again, but all that came out was a strangled gasp of his name before you were cumming between your bodies with a cry. His sharp mouth curved into a grin pressed into the skin of your shoulder as you went boneless in his arms. He kept driving your body down onto himself mercilessly, paying no mind to your limp form. Your eyes filled with tears and drool leaked from your slackened jaw as you were driven to complete overstimulation from him using your body.

“Mmmmhh-hngg....AH!” You moaned desperately, squirming in his arms, trying to get away from the feeling of his cocks inside you that was quickly starting to get painful. Your hole was fluttering erratically around him, and the grip that Enéas had on your hips stuttered, betraying how close he was.

“My prince, I’m…” he managed to grunt out before he pulled you all the way onto his cocks and came inside of you, clutching your body close to his.

His twin dicks twitched against your sensitive walls as thick white cum spilled inside of you. You wailed at the sensation, your own spent cock trying fruitlessly to twitch erect again. Enéas held you against him for several minutes, catching his breath, before he carefully lifted you off of him and laid you down on the now-soiled sheets. The spines on his shafts caught on your puffy rim as he pulled out, making you wince. Your belly was still sticky from your own orgasm, and gobs of Enéas’s cum leaked from your hole, making you feel even filthier. You were completely and utterly fucked-out and content as you lay there in a warm stupor. Cold lips kissed away tears that you hadn’t noticed had fallen, and a hand rubbed comforting circles into the back of your neck. He shifted his body to wrap around you in heavy coils that felt safe and warm, despite his cold blood. You stayed there, cradled against his familiar body, being covered in soft kisses and soothing caresses, until the shaky aftershocks of both of your climaxes dissipated. Once they had, you curled onto your side so that you could nuzzle your face into his scaly neck,

“So?” Enéas whispered into your ear, peppering the side of your face with affectionate pecks. “Did I please you, my prince?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nibbling on his jaw slightly. “You absolutely did, beloved.”

#monster fucker #monster lover #exophilia #terato #monster x human #naga #tw crying #smut #nsft #minors do not interact #terfs dont fucking touch #seriously if i see a fucking terf i'll fight you #bigots dni

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That���s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: And There Was Only One Bed (Affectionate) [pt. 1]

(Zzzzzzz.....)

(This is unfortunately gonna have to be in several parts, mainly so I can get something out to you guys while still being able to work on the rest ^^)

Basic sleeping hcs with ya boys, and sort of... smell hcs? Idk, I got into a mood and couldn’t stop writing about smells so here it goes lol.

Characters: Dream, Techno, Wilbur.

Warnings: There’s mentions of nightmares in Dream’s and a emotional breakdown in Wilbur’s, but that’s it.

Song Recommendation: Dream A Little Dream Of Me- The Mamas & Papas.

Up Next- Quackity, George, and Bad. [pt. 2]

Hope you have nice day today <3 Enjoy!

Dream:

Depending on where you’ve fallen asleep, Dream will kind of work with your position before he lets himself relax.

He prefers it when the two of you are in your bed, with him near the closest door and on his back and with you sleeping against his side, arm stretched over his middle. It’s a good way for him to be between any intruders that may come and to still have you close. But no matter where you are, he has to make sure that he can protect you before he lets his guard down.

Another position he likes is when you’re tucked against his chest under his chin, sitting on his lap or curled up together in bed. Being tall with a broad chest means he makes a pretty good pillow, so use those puppies when you can 👀👀

Smells like a forest, most times. Almost like wild honey, but it’s a very delicate smell. You don’t notice it until your first hug, when you were upset and crying and he pulled you to into his arms so you could hide your face. Now you smell it everywhere he is, in your house, on your bed, even your clothes smell like him. Neither of you say anything, but he slowly begins leaving his soap at your house. Just in case, y’know, if you ever run out.

Other times, when he seems a little more... off, he smells like the beginning to a storm, like ozone and petrichor. Those days he doesn’t speak that much, and keeps you at arms length. He sits quietly and watches your doors and windows with obvious intent, and is gone before morning. You don’t think he even moved from his spot throughout the night, much less slept there. You don’t see him for a few days afterwards.

Usually he remains as still as a log, but sometimes he has fidgeting fits where he twitches and grumbles to himself. Sometimes you’ll even catch him speaking full-on sentences, though they don’t make much sense. Mostly normal out of place stuff, but once you heard him talking about someone called DreamXD, and figured you’d ask him about his oc the next morning.

He has nightmares often too. It’s hard to tell when he’s asleep but he’ll wake up sweating and trembling and lean over you to check you’re still breathing. He won’t ever tell you what they’re about, but it isn’t hard to guess when he buries his nose into your hair and holds you tightly like you might leave him.

If the two of you aren’t sleeping in your house or completely alone, he won’t sleep until you are. Sleep loss doesn’t quite affect him like it does others until after a pretty long time of not doing it, to which he’ll become surlier and more angry until he eventually just clocks out. He wakes up extremely well rested 2 days later and the process repeats. Sleeping at your house is the closest he gets to proper sleeping, and it’s the only time he can ever feel truly relaxed when doing so.

When he can’t fall asleep, he goes straight to watching you. He gently plays with your hair and fiddles with your fingers, relishing in how unmarred and soft they are in comparison to his much rougher, bigger ones. It’s a sure fire way to get him to mellow out and relax, and he finds that sleep ends up coming much quicker.

(Dream wakes up in warmth one night, with rain knocking on window panes instead of what ever shelter he could scrape together and a fire crackling far off. He deduces immediately that he’s in someones house, and it doesn’t take long before he notices the owner, asleep in his lap. 

Your legs are slung over the arm of the padded chair he’s sitting in, a book (one of his own, he acknowledges, an older version of a well known storybook that he has memorized already) loosely held onto in your hands, and your head rests on his shoulder. 

He expects to feel worried soon, the fear of you getting close to him reappearing to ruin another close moment. But it never comes. All he can feel is the safety and comfort you always emanate, driving away his tension and soothing his mind. He closes his eyes, and falls back asleep.)

Techno:

Techno is very very touch starved ^^; While he may not be the only one on this list that is, Techno is definitely the most…. shy about it. He won’t ever directly ask to sleep next to you, and will actively try to avoid that. He’s afraid of making you uncomfortable but also of being close to you in general? It’s an odd mix of emotions, like eating mints and a hot pepper at the same time and then feeling hell fire burn inside of your body. Anytime the two of you have to sleep in the same room as each other, he will immediately offer you the better spot and go find a chair to sleep in, and he won’t accept a no.

The most you can do is make the choice to go sleep next to him. It’ll weird him out a little before becoming overwhelmingly endearing when he processes the fact that you would rather sleep next to him than somewhere more pleasant. When you’re asleep however, he’ll pick you up and move you to the place where he wanted you to be. He’ll drape his massive cape over your body and (after assuring himself six different times that you are in fact asleep) softly press a kiss to the crown of your head. If he runs his thumb over your cheek once, then thats his business.

Later on in your relationship though, after he relaxes and settles a bit, it’s pretty unusual if you don’t fall asleep next to him. He still won’t outright ask for it, but he kinda just hopes that when he starts his nightly routine before bed that you’ll just join him without needing to be asked. Having you there helps him sleep better, you act as both a silencer for the voices and someone to hold close when he’s at his most vulnerable.

When sleeping in bed together, he prefers to pull you close and curl around you in a half pulled fetus position. He’s usually a heavy sleeper, and actively clings on to you when asleep. It's an impressive feat if you can break free from his strong arms while they’re wrapped around your middle, and you leaving inevitably wakes him up. He’ll go searching for you then, barely awake, just to pull you back to bed to be his teddy bear again.

And speaking of the voices, while generally they’re loud and insistent, occupying his mind more than he does at times, their reaction to you baffles him so much. In place of the usual screaming is gentle mumbling, quiet whispers about how nice you look today or how pink and soft your cheeks look. It’s a welcome relief, and no matter how he hard he ignores the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, he’s glad to know they care for you as much as he does.

He also smells pretty nice, it’s this natural musk he has mixed with a muted minty scent. The mint smell comes from this fancy soap Phil had gotten him a while back that he hadn’t given much thought about until you said something. Techno’s already a clean kind of guy, but after hearing your praises of his smell he almost begs Phil to get him more.

Snores, but in a quiet reserved way. Sometimes he makes soft cute noises, like little happy sounds when you snuggle into him more, or bashful grumbles when you kiss him before bed.

(Sunlight flickers through the blinds of Techno’s room, streaking across your face and waking you from sleep. Sighing quietly, you lift your head a little and stretch as best you can while being held in place at his side, before snuggling back into your spot, fully content to stay there for the rest of the morning. 

As you enjoy the moment, you savor the gentle snores that rumble in his chest, his strong heart thumping beneath your ear, and the way his hand kneads your hip as he wakes. 

‘It’s a good morning to sleep in.’ Your mind says quietly, and with how he rolls over to face you and kiss your forehead, it seems Techno thinks so too.)

Wilbur:

The way Wilbur sleeps really depends on what Wilbur it is.

To start off though, a few general things. He’s a neat sleeper, doesn’t snore, doesn’t move a whole lot, and smells pretty nice too. His smell also came from a fancy soap he got from Phil, but it smelled like sugar and lemons and it was a lot heavier than Techno’s. He would always take showers before bed because he knew you liked how it smelled, and often he would offered to share it with you (so that you would smell like him). Once he was exiled, he didn’t have the liberty of bathing as frequently as he used to, and he stopped using the fancy soap because he thought it felt tainted. He’d end up smelling like stale air and gunpowder, though he’d never tell you what the smell was from.

With sleep, if it’s pre-Pogtopia Wilbur, you get a fairly standard sleeping arrangement of him crawling up into between your legs to flop down on your stomach with a sigh, waiting impatiently for you to get comfortable and curl around him like you usually do. Your hand comes to cradle his head closer to your chest and he nuzzles into your collarbone before falling asleep near immediately. The two of you wake up tangled completely together and immensely comfortable. Wilbur used to sleep in on days like that, quietly savoring the peace that came with you and your generous hands that would slowly brush through his sleep-messed hair. Even after the election, when he starts descending into madness, the memories serve as a final comfort to him.

Post-Pogtopia Wilbur (Vilbur, if you will) is a stark contrast to his old self. He’s more bitter, more reserved, and even more paranoid. He doesn’t sleep with you anymore, at least never consistently, and the only times he does is when he’s so emotionally fraught that he passes out from the stress and lack of sleep midway through you trying to calm him down. You usually end up just kind of holding him close, praying that when he wakes up you can settle him before he works himself up again. You fall asleep like that, tired and restless.

(He rouses from sleep a few hours later, curled up in your arms and still exhausted from the breakdown. Your chest rises and falls slowly behind him, face smushed into his hair and completely relaxed. 

For a moment, all is calm again. He can pretend that it’s just how it used to be before the election had happened, that the two of you are back at home, happy and stable. 

His hands tremble when they reach for yours, and he grants himself the freedom to cry while you’re still sleeping, ignoring the fact that the next day will be just like the last, and that nothing has changed.)

See you next time :D

#mcyt x reader #c: dream #c: technoblade #c: wilbur #hc: and there was only one bed (affectionate) #dream x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader

[lucy90712]

domestic head cannons

George:

George loves going to the grocery store with you for some reason no matter how much you need or what time he is he will want to come with you. Although going in the early hours of the morning for snacks is his favourite.

At 3am he will drag you out the house after you both ate the snacks you have in the house while having a movie marathon. Neither of you want to drive so you walk through the cold night to the nearest store which is only 5 minutes away but in the cold it feels so much longer. George would give you his hoodie if you were shivering even if he was kind of cold he would want you to be warm and plus it means that you will have to cuddle with him.

Running round the store finding all the snacks you both wanted as well as a few sensible things which you would have had to get tomorrow. It was so fun and you had never done anything like it before but George definitely has so he has so much fun dragging you round and making you do stupid things. He makes you kind of embarrass yourself but luckily there is very few people around to judge you but there was enough by your standards.

The walk back home was very slow because the two of you were laughing and making silly jokes tiredness clearly kicking in slightly but you would both stay up for a while longer. When you finally got home George pulled you on top of him to warm him up because he was cold and then eventually you fell asleep on him and he just watched you because you looked very peaceful and cute.

Dream:

He likes to cook with you whenever he has the time because it is something that you both can do to spend some quality time together. After a long day of you both working meeting in the kitchen to cook something nice is a comfort activity for the both of you and standing there together gives you time to talk about your days and the things that happened to you that day.

The second you get home Clay is there to take all of your things for you and then get out all the things you needed to make the dinner you had planned. He is so helpful and loves being by your side after not seeing you all day especially when you haven't had a great day he can be there to give you hugs and kisses all over your face to make you feel better. After a good day where you felt like you achieved something he will be so glad you have enjoyed your day because he knows that your job can be a nightmare at times.

When you are waiting for things to cook he will stand against the counter with you pressed against his chest and hands around your waist just talking with each other. It's both of your favourite time of the day when you two get to spend time together without any interruptions and nothing else that really takes away from your conversation.

Clay loves having you right with him after missing you all day so just holding you close to him even if neither of you are talking just having you there is comforting to him, knowing your safe and in his arms is something that makes him feel better. He will hold you tight and play with your hair or fiddle with your fingers one to keep him occupied and two to feel close to you.

Sapnap:

He loves to sit with you while you do homework or even help when he can but mostly he just likes being there with you while you work because he likes the way your face changes when you are concentrating. He can always tell when you won't be listening to him because your face changes to you biting the inside of your lip which he loves so much and sometimes he will say random things to you to see if you hear him or question the complete nonsense that he says.

Sometimes after he finishes a stream and sees that your still working he will pull you onto his lap and let you continue with whatever you were doing although you do always get distracted by him moving around and asking what you are doing. He will rest his head on your shoulder and watch you work until you are done or just give up for the night.

If you are really struggling with a piece of work he will try his best to help and if any of his friends are better at what you are studying he will talk to them and see if they can help you. Anything he can do to make your life easier he will do because he doesn't like to see you stressed. In the absolute worst case scenario and you are having a breakdown he will make you have a break and do something else.

Karl:

Karl loves to bake with you in fact it's one of his favourite past times and you are good at it so whatever you make always turns out good no matter how much you mess around. You both do mess around quite a lot but that's the fun of it, who wouldn't want to draw shapes in the flour that's on the counter top or Karl's favourite is putting it on your nose to annoy you.

He will always find new recipes for you both to try which you do try to follow as best you can while also having fun. Sometimes you will make your favourite recipes which you have become pros at so you can have a little more fun with it trying new things as additions.

The worst part is having to clean the kitchen after you have made a mess but after you are finished you get to cuddle up on the sofa until the timer goes off indicating what you made was done. Karl isn’t trusted to get the things out the oven because one time he caught the baking Trey with his arm and burnt himself meaning he dropped everything you guys had spent ages making so now it’s your job.

After you have been baking the house always smells really nice but the best part is eating what you made and trying out either something new or a new combination which somehow always turns out good and end with you both eating pretty much the whole thing.  

Wilbur:

Wilbur loves cleaning with you he finds it therapeutic and it's a great time to take a break from work and help you out. The both of you love to listen to music as you clean and occasionally you will take breaks and dance together which are some of your favourite times together because it's never planned you just both kind of start syncing together.

You could be dusting a shelf and Wilbur will come over and put his arms round your waist and start swaying to the music with you. Doing that doesn't make the house clean but you both enjoy it more than cleaning so you let him dance with you and sometimes sing the song that is playing in your ear very softly. He will occasionally kiss the top of your head which rests against his chest or shoulder.

It's these moments together that make Wilbur really appreciate you so much they make him realise that without you he has no idea where he would be and he hopes you feel the same even though he knows you do. You love these moments because any time with Wilbur is a good time in your mind.

#george x reader #george #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #gnf #dream team #dreamteam #dream #dream x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #karl #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur x reader #mcyt #dsmp #headcanon