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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

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COMMISSION: SDR2 Boys x Reader - Marshmallow Hell Scenarios

Details: For those who don’t know, Marshmallow Hell is an anime cliche/trope where someone falls face first into/is smothered by someone’s breasts. Also, this is for anyone with breasts, no pronouns are mentioned

Warnings: language and lewd suggestive scenarios but its kinda PG-13/Teen

SDR2 spoilers in some sections, but some will be implied to be Island Mode/no despair

Word Count: 4.5K words - around 500 for each boy

Byakuya Twogami

It was normal for you and all of your classmates to convene in the hotel restaurant every morning. You ate breakfasts handmade by the Ultimate Cook, discussed the day’s plans, and just caught up with each other. There were already cliques and little sub-groups within the whole - people who favored each other. Nekomaru could often be found getting stronger or training with Akane, Sonia and Gundham spoke of their interest in the occult, and Hajime and Chiaki had grown quite close. Ibuki had developed a fondness and sort of infatuation for the group’s self-appointed leader: Byakuya Togami. It seemed natural to want to be closer to someone titled the Ultimate Affluent Progeny, as he held wealth, status, confidence, and yet a bit of mystery. Ibuki, however, seemed to take to him more than the others. She was constantly asking him questions, playfully praising him, following him around.

This morning in particular, you were minding your own business, in the corner talking about beach-going plans with Chiaki after having just finished your breakfast. Ibuki, loud and boisterous, was trailing behind Byakuya, asking after what their esteemed leader had planned for the day, and Hiyoko, short-tempered as ever, was slowly losing her patience with the noise so early in the morning.

You actually had to commend Byakuya on his own patience. For someone who would be easy to judge as pompous and stuck-up, he actually was quite good at keeping his cool and naturally taking up his post as leader. He passed by Chiaki and yourself on the way back to the kitchen of the restaurant, and you nearly felt bad for the man who appeared to still be groggy from sleep and yet was being bombarded by conversation. He handled Ibuki well. Hiyoko, however, had enough it seemed.

“Ugh! Shut the hell up! I just woke up and you’re being annoying! Go talk to Mr. Ham Hands in your private cabin if you wanna suck his gross, cheesy dick that bad!” Clenching her teeth in frustration, Hiyoko reached out and shoved Ibuki as hard as she could with her angry little hands. The strength such a hateful little body could produce was actually quite surprising. Ibuki screeched, stumbled abruptly forward into Byakuya, who, taken by surprise, tumbled forward onto you. Like a stack of dominos you all went down with quite a bit of commotion.

With the hefty size and height of the Affluent Progeny before you, you were easily taken flat to the ground with a gasp. Everyone turned to look at the situation: Ibuki collapsed across Byakuya’s ass and legs, and Byakuya smothered head first into the plush front of your breasts. Time seemed to stop for a second, and Byakuya raised his head, cheeks aflame with embarrassment at the undignified position. You looked back into his eyes with just as much shock. Hiyoko covered her mouth with both hands, holding back how devilishly delighted she was at the chaos she’d just caused.

“Well, well! If the big rich boy wanted some play that badly, he probably could’ve just asked (Y/N)! I must say, I’m quite jealous of his position!” Teruteru teased, wiggling his fingers, imagining himself switching places with Byakuya.

Byakuya scrambled to his feet, lifting himself off of you in a hurry while sputtering defensive, angry retorts about how a gentleman of rare stock such as himself would never stoop so low and something about not being a common rake like the promiscuous chef.

Teruteru Hanamura

Teruteru was playful, unserious, relaxed in most aspects of his life and personality. However, you noticed he was fiercely serious when it came to cooking. It was his passion, his life’s work, something he didn’t play around with. You admired how much time and effort he put into his craft, and loved to watch him work. He spent every breakfast, lunch and dinner period making a literal feast for all of his classmates, and you often liked to either watch him work his magic in the kitchen, or get more hands-on and actually help him. You found him funny and knowledgable, and liked learning little recipes and cooking methods as much as eating the finished works. However, it was nice to be complimented, compared to delicious dishes and praised for your cooking assistance skills. You found yourself having a lot of fun with him.

At the moment, you were helping Teruteru in the dining hall of the old building by the hotel. Your class had prepared a little party of sorts for tonight, a little feast and get-together to chat, have fun, and just be carefree for a night. Now done with the dishes, it was all about plating and arrangment. He wanted the dining hall to stun your peers when they arrived in the next ten minutes or so.

He was up on a ladder, piling up a tower of sashimi and nigiri a mile high. You spotted him, nervous about the height he was at, especially with his short frame. You had your arms out in preparation, ready for any spills or to catch stray strips of fish meat. Everything had to be perfect. He took pride in that. Ice on the bottom, a cold room, fresh meat, the proper placement.

Teetering to place a bit of yellowtail and red snapper on the top of his masterpiece, you heard him gasp a bit, one foot stumbling over the other on the top step of the ladder. Determined not to crash into and therefore ruin his mountain of fish, he quickly shifted his weight, twisting so he instead fell away and off of the ladder and unfortunately, onto his gracious helper. You grunted with the impact, slamming flat onto your back on the hard floor with Teruteru on top of you. With his height and the angle of the fall, his face planted so very conveniently into your breasts.

It was almost a little too perfect of a scenario for someone like him, and you flustered up immediately, questioning if he’d done it on purpose as he took his good old time getting up. Of course, lewd remark after lewd remark ensued, as he took advantage of the situation fully. How often would he get an opportunity as lucky as that?

Nekomaru Nidai

Nekomaru had many more positive traits than negative ones. You absolutely loved spending time with him, as he radiated positivity and pushed all of those around him to be their best self and train their bodies and minds. He was all about mental and physical strength, as was expected of the Ultimate Team Manager. Nekomaru trained champions, and so he could never just let his friends go without realizing their full potential. You very much enjoyed his presence, his overwhelming energy, hearty laugh, encouraging personality.

Spending time with Nekomaru often meant also spending time with Akane. The two walls of muscle often bonded over their shared interest in being strong in body and mind, and today you’d agreed to train with them. Nekomaru was good at reading people’s insecurities - better to help overcome them - and today, he insisted on honing your senses, as the killing game left you feeling vulnerable and even a bit useless. There’s no one you trusted more to help you get out of those feelings. It was good to get your mind off of things while training to become less of a target for a killing. Two birds, one stone and all that.

Nekomaru had all four of you blindfolded: you, Nekomaru himself, Akane, and Hajime Hinata, who often got roped into silly activities with whoever seemed to be available to hang out that particular day. Nekomaru insisted he could use the training as well, so here he was. The next hour or so was spent dodging light attacks, relying on hearing and sensing danger when sight was not an option. Nekomaru always went easier on you and Hajime, saving the harder hits for Akane, who would never accept any less. Out on the beach behind the diner, you felt the sand between your toes, the wind on your face, the blindfold forcing you to perceive your surroundings in a whole new way.

You swivled on your heels, hearing someone new approach from the south, and you assumed everyone else heard them, too. It was Ibuki, as you easily reognized from the voice.

“There you guys are! We couldn’t find you for like, forever! Anyhoo! Teruteru sent me to round y’all up! Soup’s on! Come on back to the-” before Ibuki could even finish her words, Akane was bolting, blindfold still on, toward the first island, and only Ibuki would actually see what happened next:

Akane, all speed and no sight, plowed into Hajime and pushed past him. He yelped, splatting onto the ground at full-force.

“Ouch! What the fu- ah!” Hajime was cut off as Nekomaru, who also was now heading in the same direction as Akane, tripped over Hajime’s prone body on the sand, tripping face forward onto you, innocent of the chaos and unsuspecting while still blind to the world around you.

“Gah!” Nekomaru’s deep voice rumbled, clumsily taking you down with him, his huge mountain of a body easily smashing yours into the sand below him. Ibuki could only laugh at the cluster-fuck in front of her, the chain of events that lead to Nekomaru face planting directly into your chest. His exclamation of surprise was muffled into your soft mounds of flesh. You were speechless, just wondering what the hell was going on.

“Aww man, sorry, Hajime!” Nekomaru, hearing Hajime yell out beforehand, assumed it was the skinny brunette crushed below him. He reached up for the blindfold, lifting it and immediately feeling a rush of embarrassment set his cheeks ablaze. The tips of his ears were on fire and his heartbeat was racing, now making eye contact with you.

He wasn’t oblivious to his size, knowing whoever he’d fallen on top of was almost certainly pinned and unable to get up until he moved, so he scrambled to is feet, apologizing profusely and helping you to your feet while Ibuki made teasing remarks just a short distance away.

Gundham Tanaka

It was a rare stormy night on the beautiful tropical island. All outdoor activities were off the table, and so you and your good friend, Gundham, decided on spending time in his cabin. It had taken a lot of work to get Gundham to this point, where he let a “mere mortal” into the safe space of his private quarters, and he was still closed off in some ways. He had walls up: about his heart, his past, his Four Dark Devas, and you’d slowly broken many of them down. He still was his own quirky, awkward, edgy self, but around you, he was slightly more relaxed. He didn’t usually let others interact with his Devas, and he still insisted they could turn on even himself in a moment’s notice as they were powerful beasts and truly their own masters, but he was more comfortable letting you hold and take care of them than anyone else. You’d earned that right. You were worthy in his eyes.

You loved his personalized cabin, overrun with hamster tunnels and pet care items. It was so cute and cozy, a stark contrast to his own presentation to the world. Tonight, he regaled you with embellished and dramatic tales of his past feats while the Devas crawled all around you. One was under the collar of your shirt, trying to siphon away your body heat, another used your shirt sleeve like a tunnel. One sat in your lap, eating a seed you offered. Gundham’s storytelling was so entertaining to you because he was so effortlessly good at it. It was an accident that he was so alluring.

Without warning, lightning cracked outside and the lights went out. It was pure black all around you, and you assumed your peers in their own cabins were experiencing the same thing.

Freaking out a bit, Gundham yelled for his Devas, calling them back to his own side. Again, though he trusted you, and didn’t want to admit any faults in his breeding and training methods, at the end of the day, the Devas were animals with instincts and wild at heart. He feared them panicking at the sudden darkness and lashing out to scratch or bite you. He could handle it, as his bandaged arm proved, but he didn’t want that happening to you.

He reached out frantically for the Devas in the dark, lunging forward, scrambling and stumbling until he accidentally toppled you over. Clumsily, he fell forward onto you. You yelped at the impact, not seeing but feeling the Devas scramble for cover away from you before they could be crushed by their owner. Now flat on your back in the darkness, you smelled a masculine, fragrant gel product as a coif of hair tickled your nostrils. Quickly you realized that Gundham Tanaka had pinned you, his face smashed into your bosom.

The monitor that adorned every individual cabin flashed on, the monochromatic, evil bear appearing with a sheepish look across his mischievous face.

“Sorry there, kiddos! Backup generator comin’ at ya!” As if he even cared in the first place, he giggled before disappearing off the screen once again.

The lights shuttered and then flashed back on, Gundham now able to fully take in the situation. His eyes met yours, and widened in absolute horror, mouth agape. He shoved himself off of you immediately, crawling back to his side of the floor and gathering his Devas into his arms. He preferred to pretend the whole thing never happened, hiding his now tomato-red face behind the folds of his scarf.

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito was acting weird. Like, weirder than usual. You were all in the hotel restaurant for your morning meeting as always, save for Fuyuhiko, who was in the hospital after Peko’s trial the day before. Nagito was a clammy, sweaty mess, ranting and and raving about the most random things, and just… lying a lot?

You knew Nagito a little better than the others in the group, actively choosing to befriend and get to know him as much as he would allow, but one didn’t need to know Nagito well to know that he was lying. He was saying the most outlandish, obvious lies in rapid succession.

“Nagito, is this a joke? What are you up to, now?” Hajime, ever cynical and suspicious questioned the pariah of the group, who held himself in a crazed embrace, arms wrapped around his shaking form as he rambled on.

You also knew from spening time with Nagito that he was ill, extremely ill. He was so physically ill that it extended into affecting his mental and emotional wellbeing as well. It wasn’t like he didn’t lie to push his own goals from time to time, but this was different. Something was wrong. You’d all observed that Ibuki and Akane were acting strange as well, and so Hajime, kind of the default leader of sorts, put his flat palm to each of their foreheads and found them ablaze with heat. Ah ha! So there was an illness on top of the illness. Nagito was lanky and pale as it was, but today, he was a ghost of even that.

The group discussed what to do, trying to figure out what was wrong with your three obviously ill classmates, when Nagito, chuckling in a frenzied, unstable way, started to wobble on his feet. You saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he stumbled, beginning to drop. You swept forward and moved to catch him before he could hit the floor and take some real damage. With someone as sickly as him, a good fall would probably mess him up big time. Losing consciousness, his dead weight fell face forward, directly into the cushion of your breasts. You fumbled with his weight, struggling to keep him up while he nearly suffocated into the plush surface that smothered his face. You panicked, looking around for help, humiliation in your expression. He was heavier than his gangly frame suggested.

Hajime Hinata

You had the despair disease.

And you had it bad.

Forced into the hospital on the third island, you, Nagito, Akane and Ibuki had been quarantined, separated from most of your healthy classmates. Only Mikan, Fuyuhiko and Hajime visited the four of you on a day-to-day basis, both to care for you until you were better and to protect you from being victims of the killing game. Hajime, being closer to you than the others and someone who considered you a true friend, also just wanted to be there to keep you company. If he caught the disease trying to protect and visit you, so be it. He wasn’t really worried about it.

Little did Hajime know, you very much saw him as more than a friend. Although you’d never admit it to him, you were head over heels for your intelligent, perceptive, caring classmate. Your crush couldn’t have been bigger. When the disease first began to manifest and you were in the more mild stages of it, you tried to keep him away from the hospital, because it was clear to you which form of the disease you’d caught.

Akane had cowardice, Nagito lying, Ibuki gullibility, and you…

It was most definitely love… or lust, or infatuation… you couldn’t quite tell. You’d like to think it was love, because if it was just lust or infatuation, you’d think you’d be climbing all over Fuyuhiko and Mikan when they came to visit, too, but so far, your grabby hands had only been reaching for Hajime. Your mind had been infected with an all-encompassing passion for Hajime Hinata, and Hajime Hinata alone.

Again, when you were more conscious and healthy at the begginning stages of the disease, you could recognize the involuntary increase of feelings swelling in your heart. You tried to warn Hajime to stay away, fully aware of what was happening to your body. He insisted on taking care of you just as he would help Mikan take care of the others, regardless of your warnings. As your fever burned and the sickness ravaged your body, you found it harder and harder to not grab at him when he approached, to not flirt shamelessly, to not look him up and down and imagine him without his shirt on. On days when the island felt hotter than usually, you subtly even suggested that he just be rid of the white uniform shirt altogether. Hajime had been a blushing mess around you all week, but had done his best to ignore the touches and advances, as he knew you weren’t in your right frame of mind. Though he secretly liked you more as a friend as well, he’d never take advantage of your predicament.

On this day in particular, the disease seemed to be at its climax. Your body was going through waves of heat flashes, sweat pouring from your hairline and onto your face.

As soon as Hajime opened the door to your hospital room, you leapt out of the bed before he could even speak a word. Your heart burned with affection as you latched onto him, jumping into his arms and smushing his face into the crevice of your breasts, very much on purpose.

“Hajime~ I missed you~” You crushed his nose into the sweaty cleavage of your bosom, wanting him to feel the warmth and love you held for him.

“(Y-Y/N)!” Hajime sputtered, stunned at the surprise attack, could barely breath, smothered into the embrace.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You really admired Peko for her strength, skill and silent grace. She was strong and knew she was strong. She didn’t boast, she was confident in her art form. She was truly the Ultimate Swordswoman. Although it was quite hard at first, you’d managed to get close enough to her to consider her a friend. Being close to Peko by default meant you’d have to get a bit closer with Fuyuhiko as well. The pair were inseparable it seemed, and you didn’t mind that. Fuyuhiko, despite his fiery, spiky exterior, was actually much more thoughtful and kind that most people knew. You’d grown to realize that those who earned a modicum of his trust and friendship would not be disappointed in the type of man he could be. He often tagged along, pretending he didn’t want to be there when you hung out with Peko.

You stood on one side of the beach with Peko across the way on the other side. Peko took up an offensive stance, preparing for a head-on attack. She’d agreed to teach you some swordsmanship and martial arts basics here and there after seeing your interest, and so here you were, on your third lesson. Today’s learning goals included the basics of defensive stances, blocks, counters.

You weren’t picking up the skills as quickly as you’d like, though Peko always encouraged you to press on in her sisterly, stern, blunt way. Fuyuhiko stood nearby, reading some old book from the enormous library while leaned carelessly against the outside wall of the diner. He looked up occassionally to watch you two and comment, to scoff or tease when you messed up or express concern begrudgingly when he felt like Peko was going a little hard on you. Though she was supportive verbally, it seemed that she sometimes forgot her own strength compared to a beginners when it came time for action.

Frustrated with your own skills, you spaced out a bit, sighing and dropping your guard for just a moment, the wrong moment. Peko surged forward for an attack, noticing your lack of focus just a second too late.

“(Y/N), block!” Peko spoke curtly as she approached. With that wake up call, you brought the practice sword up at the very last second, just barely avoiding a head-on attack from the master swordswoman, one that probably would’ve knocked you out cold. Your pathetic excuse for a block took away a bit of the brunt impact, but Peko’s pure strength had you stumbling back still, knocked backward off your feet.

Fuyuhiko, softer in the heart than he’d like to admit, looked up upon hearing the commotion and, in an instinctual moment of reaction, dropped his book and lunged forward, ready to break your fall, if even just a little. You made eye contact with him on the way down, dropping hold of the sword and twisting to grab onto his petite frame.

You easily tipped over his small body, taking him down with you. You instantly smothered him - your chest lining up perfectly with his nose and mouth - cutting off his airways as you two hit the ground. You were crushing him.

Profanities and protests fully muffled against your chest, Fuyuhiko struggled and swore, insulting you and hurling hateful curses from his compromising position.

Kazuichi Souda

You were making your way to Strawberry House from Grape House. In the elevator beside you was your good friend, Kazuichi, or just Kaz’, as you’d affectionately taken to calling him. You two often moved together, hanging out nearly every day, and now that you were all locked inside the funhouse, nothing had changed. In fact, with the danger of the killing game motive, you probably spent even more time linked at the hip with Kazuichi, as you liked to have each other’s back. He was a true friend to you.

Not only did you find Kazuichi’s unique style intriguing and his personality hilarious, but you really respected his unmatchable skill in engineering. He was a master, able to fix, take apart, and fix again nearly every machine or piece of tech that was thrown at him. He often, in fact, didn’t see just how amazing he was. Sure, he bragged at times, but you sensed a lot of insecurity under the surface, like he would never know just how valuable and important he actually was. You would often ask for his help fixing things or beg him to teach you some of what he knew.

On what you expected to be a short ride in the elevator, you were chatting it up with your best bud, complaining about the lack of food and the eye-strain caused by the bright walls of the fun house. One thing you two loved to do was complain together. You both just seemed to get each other.

Quite suddenly, the elevator stalled. Stopping mid-sentence, you grabbed onto Kazuichi’s forearm for reassurance as the elevator shook and thrusted to an abrupt halt with a jolt, knocking you into him. The lights flickered and went out.

“This is my worst fucking nightmare…” You chuckled nervously, grabbing onto Kazuichi tighter. He was panicking too under the surface, but being the Ultimate Mechanic, knew he was well within his skill set to fix the situation. Grumbling in displeasure, he sighed.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ sucks, but…” he started reaching out in the dark, looking for some kind of control panel or buttons, “I can probably get us outta here. Shit! If only I had just a speck of light!” You relinquished your hold on him so he could crouch, looking for some way to start his work. The panic was starting to really set in for you. What were the odds of this happening?

With a groan, the elevator lurched and shook again.

“Kaz’!” You shrieked in the dark, leaping forward to grab onto Kazuichi, not caring one bit if you were impeding on any progress he had made. He yelped as you suctioned yourself onto him, tackling him to the ground.

“H-hey!” Kazuichi’s voice was muffled below you. You could barely make it out. “I can’t breathe!” He struggled beneath you, locked in your vice-like, terrified embrace as you ashphixiated him into your chest.

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