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solxamber · 8 months ago

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Idia cater and octanivelle (seperate) with a reader s/o who gets cuteness aggression towards their boyfriend, dragging him to privacy if they arent already in it so they can smother to boy with kisses and then just leaving them be like they just did the most normal thing, leaving the characters to react in their own ways perhaps please?

Cuteness Agression with: Idia, Cater, Octatrio

a/n: i loved the ask omg i was giggling the entire time i was writing it. sorry for the really long wait and i hope you like it

Part 2: Malleus, Rook, Lilia, Jamil, Riddle, Leona

Idia Shroud

Idia had never considered himself cute. If anything, he was the exact opposite of what someone might find remotely attractive—awkward, perpetually hunched over, and most likely to combust if too many people looked at him at once. But then, there was you.

You, with your sunshine-like enthusiasm and boundless energy, who had the audacity to look at him—his mess of blue flames, oversized hoodie, and permanently slouched posture—and declare him the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, he thought it was a joke. Surely, you couldn’t be serious. But as time passed, it became glaringly obvious: you were dead serious.

It started on a quiet afternoon. You’d found Idia tucked away in his room as usual, gaming with a focus so intense he didn’t even notice you entering. His lips were pressed into a slight pout, his brows furrowed, and his hair glowed faintly with concentration.

And that was it. Something in your brain snapped.

You didn’t even say anything, just marched over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of his chair.

“H-Hey! What are you—?!” Idia stammered, flailing as you dragged him out of the room and down the hall. “I’m in the middle of a raid! I can’t just leave! My party’s gonna—”

You shoved open the door to an empty lounge, ignoring his protests, and pushed him onto the couch. Before he could even process what was happening, you pounced.

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it!” you half-yelled, squishing his cheeks in your hands and pressing a flurry of kisses all over his face.

Idia froze. His brain blue-screened. “Wh-What—?!”

“Nope, no talking,” you said, absolutely drunk on how adorable he looked when he was flustered. You kissed him again, your hands cradling his face like he was some precious, fragile thing. “You’re so cute, it’s criminal! I’m putting you under arrest.”

“Th-That’s not—! Y-You can’t just—!” Idia’s protests were muffled by your relentless affection. His flames sparked and flickered wildly, betraying just how utterly overwhelmed he was.

After several long moments, you finally relented, leaning back to admire your work. Idia’s face was a brilliant shade of red, his hair practically sparking like fireworks. He looked dazed, his wide golden eyes staring at you like you’d just dropped from the sky.

“See? Absolutely adorable,” you said smugly, crossing your arms like you’d just won some grand debate.

Idia sputtered, burying his face in his hands. “Y-You can’t just ambush me like that! W-What if someone saw?!”

You grinned, leaning forward to gently pull his hands away from his face. “No one saw, and even if they did, so what? You’re my boyfriend, and I reserve the right to smother you in kisses whenever I feel like it.”

Idia groaned, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day, I swear...”

��Worth it,” you teased, poking his cheek playfully.

From that day on, Idia learned to recognize the look.

Whenever your eyes lit up with that dangerous mix of adoration and mischief, he knew what was coming.

“Wait, wait, wait—” he’d say, hands raised as if to fend you off. “Let’s talk about this! Let’s be rational—!”

But it was always too late.

No matter where you were—whether in the library, the cafeteria, or even in the middle of a gaming session—you’d drag him off to a secluded spot, showering him with affection until he was a stuttering, blushing mess.

And the worst part? He couldn’t even be mad about it.

Because, deep down, a part of him liked it.

Liked how unapologetically you loved him. Liked how your touch, your laughter, your relentless affection made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he was worth all the trouble.

Even if it left him blushing for hours afterward.

Cater Diamond

Cater Diamond loved attention. Loved being in the spotlight, basking in the glow of likes, comments, and shares. What he didn’t anticipate was being the target of your unique brand of attention—a combination of relentless affection and an overwhelming urge to smother him every time you deemed him too cute to function.

Which, as it turned out, was all the time.

It started with something simple: Cater had been showing you his latest MagiCam post. He was talking animatedly about angles, filters, and hashtags, and his grin was so radiant, his enthusiasm so infectious, that your brain short-circuited.

“Cute,” you muttered under your breath. But then you looked at him again—the sparkle in his green eyes, the playful way he stuck out his tongue as he scrolled through his phone—and it hit you like a freight train.

“You’re so cute, I can’t handle it!” you practically yelled, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the classroom before he could protest.

Cater stumbled after you, his phone clattering to the floor. “Whoa, whoa! What’s the rush? Did I—?”

You didn’t let him finish. The moment you found an empty hallway, you spun around, cupped his cheeks, and peppered his face with kisses. “Why are you so cute all the time? It’s illegal. Illegal, Cater.”

His cheeks flushed pink as he let out a surprised laugh. “Uh… I didn’t know being adorable was a crime? Should I call the guards?”

“Yes,” you huffed dramatically. “Call them. Tell them I’m guilty of having too much cuteness aggression, and you’re the victim.”

Cater blinked, momentarily stunned into silence, and then broke into a grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire school. “Wow, you’re like my personal hype squad! This is the best day ever.”

From that day forward, Cater learned to recognize the warning signs.

Whenever you got that look—the one where your eyes sparkled and your hands fidgeted like you were holding yourself back—he knew he was in for it.

“Let’s chill for a second,” he’d say, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “We’re in public! Don’t you wanna save this for, I dunno, somewhere private?”

You’d smile sweetly. Too sweetly. “Nope.”

And before he could escape, you’d grab him and whisk him away to some hidden corner of the school.

“Seriously, what did I even do this time?” Cater would ask, though his laughter betrayed any attempt at indignation.

“You exist, Cater,” you’d reply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re cute, and I can’t stand it, so hold still.”

Cue more kisses, and more of Cater melting into a giggling mess under your relentless affection.

One afternoon, you found him lounging on the couch in the Heartslabyul lounge, scrolling through his MagiCam feed. He’d tossed on one of his oversized sweaters, and his hair was slightly mussed like he’d just rolled out of bed.

It was too much. Your self-control snapped like a twig.

“Okay, that’s it,” you said, marching over.

Cater looked up just in time to see you barreling toward him. “Oh no, not again—! Babe, wait! Let me post first—!”

You tackled him onto the couch, smothering him in kisses as he laughed and squirmed beneath you. “You’re insane!”

“And you’re adorable!” you shot back, holding his face like it was the most precious thing in the world. “It’s a problem.”

Cater gave up resisting, his arms wrapping around your waist as he laughed breathlessly. “Well, I guess there are worse problems to have than being attacked by my cute, affectionate partner”

You kissed the tip of his nose, grinning down at him. “That’s right. You should feel honored.”

“Totally,” Cater said with a wink, though the flush in his cheeks and the soft look in his eyes betrayed how much he really meant it.

Cater might have been used to playing roles, putting on masks to charm the world, but with you, there were no masks. No filters. Just him, basking in your unfiltered love, and loving every second of it. Even if it meant being smothered in kisses every time you found him too cute to handle.

Which, to your credit, was all the time.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto prided himself on being composed, professional, and, above all, respectable. He was a businessman, a contract wizard, a man of strategy. What he absolutely wasn't prepared for was how you, his beloved, had a penchant for completely derailing his carefully curated image with something as ridiculous as cuteness aggression.

And by the Sea Witch, you were relentless.

It started one evening in the Mostro Lounge. Azul had been reviewing paperwork behind the bar, his brow furrowed in concentration, glasses perched delicately on his nose. His pen moved with precise efficiency, the soft scratch of ink on parchment the only sound as he reviewed the latest inventory reports.

You were supposed to be helping, but instead, you found yourself distracted. Watching the way his fingers tapped lightly on the countertop, how his silver hair gleamed under the soft lounge lighting, and the faint pout of his lips as he puzzled over a tricky calculation… it was too much. The man was criminally adorable.

“Azul,” you said suddenly, voice tinged with barely suppressed glee.

He hummed, not looking up. “Yes, my dear?”

You didn’t reply, instead marching over to him with a determined look.

Azul glanced up just in time to see you close the distance between you, a dangerous gleam in your eyes. “W-Wait, what are you—?”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his wrist, tugging him out of his chair with surprising strength.

“Hey!” he yelped, stumbling after you. “I’m working! The reports—!”

“Can wait,” you interrupted firmly, dragging him into one of the private booths.

“Honestly, what has gotten into—”

His protests were cut off as you shoved him onto the cushioned seat and cupped his face in your hands, your eyes sparkling with adoration.

“You’re so cute,” you said, and the way your voice wavered with sheer affection sent Azul’s heart racing.

“I—what?” he sputtered, his composure crumbling.

“You’re so cute,” you repeated, practically vibrating with energy. “I can’t stand it. I have to kiss you. Right now.”

Azul’s face turned a brilliant shade of red, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. “T-That’s hardly appropriate—!”

You didn’t let him finish, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, then his lips.

Azul went completely still, his brain scrambling to process what was happening. His carefully constructed persona, the one he worked so hard to maintain, was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was just a blushing, flustered mess, completely at your mercy.

When you finally pulled back, his wide-eyed expression made you giggle. “There. Much better,” you said, sitting back with a satisfied smile.

Azul blinked at you, utterly speechless. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, trying—and failing—to regain some semblance of dignity. “Y-You can’t just… do that!”

“Sure I can,” you replied, unrepentant. “You’re my boyfriend. It’s in the job description.”

Azul opened his mouth to argue but faltered when he saw the way you were smiling at him—like he was the most precious thing in the world. His heart stuttered, and he looked away, flustered beyond belief.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning in to steal another kiss.

From that moment on, Azul realized he had to be on high alert.

You had a habit of striking at the most unexpected times. Whether he was mid-negotiation, organizing the lounge staff, or simply trying to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, you always found a way to pull him aside and smother him with affection.

“We’re in public,” he’d hiss, his face bright red as you kissed his knuckles in the middle of the lounge. “What will the customers think?”

“They’ll think I’m the luckiest person in the world,” you replied with a grin, completely unfazed.

“You’re impossible,” Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands.

But despite his protests, there was a small, secret part of him that loved it. Loved the way you looked at him with stars in your eyes. Loved the way you laughed when he got flustered. Loved the way you made him feel like he was more than just a businessman, more than just the awkward, insecure octo-mer he used to be.

He would never admit it aloud, of course—his pride wouldn’t allow it. But the next time you grabbed his hand and dragged him away with that mischievous glint in your eye, Azul didn’t resist nearly as much as he claimed he would.

Because, really, who was he to deny you?

Jade Leech

Jade Leech was many things—elegant, composed, a touch unnerving when the moment called for it—but "cute" wasn’t exactly the first adjective that came to mind for most. For you, however, the sight of him was downright devastating.

The poised way he carried himself, the sly curve of his lips when he smiled, the faint glint of mischief in his mismatched eyes—it was all so unbearably adorable that it practically short-circuited your brain.

And it wasn’t like you could keep it to yourself. No, you had to act on it. Every time.

The first time it happened, you were sitting in the Mostro Lounge, watching Jade work. He moved with his usual grace, balancing trays, speaking softly to patrons, and wearing that infuriatingly charming smile that made your heart race.

“Are you alright?” His smooth voice cut through your daze. He was standing right in front of you now, head tilted ever so slightly, curiosity evident on his face.

You blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “Uh… yeah! Just… appreciating you.”

Jade’s smile widened. “How flattering. And what, pray tell, have I done to earn such attention?”

Oh, no. He was being cute and smug about it. That did it. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing his wrist, you tugged him behind the lounge counter, away from the prying eyes of the customers. “Jade, I can’t—I need to—just stay still!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but also intrigued. “Stay still for what, exactly?”

You didn’t answer, too busy cupping his face and pressing kisses all over it. His forehead, his cheeks, his nose—every inch of him was a target.

“Oh...” His voice trailed off, his usual composed demeanor slipping as he blinked down at you, utterly flabbergasted. “What… are you doing?”

“Kissing you, obviously,” you mumbled between smooches, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jade chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips as you kissed his jawline. “I see that. But why the sudden… enthusiasm?”

“Because you’re too cute,” you declared, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “And if I don’t do this, I’ll explode. It’s science.”

Jade’s smile shifted into something softer, warmer. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, simply studying your flushed, determined face. Then, with a low hum of approval, he gently wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of scientific necessity,” he teased, leaning in to steal a kiss of his own.

From that point on, your "cuteness attacks" became a regular occurrence.

Whether he was reorganizing the terrarium in the Mostro Lounge, brewing potions in the lab, or simply enjoying a quiet moment with tea, you always found a way to interrupt him with your overwhelming affection.

“Dear,” he said one evening, as you practically tackled him onto the couch in the lounge’s VIP room. “You know I had work to finish, yes?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, pinning him beneath you as you kissed his nose.

“And you’re aware this is highly disruptive?”

“Yup,” you said, grinning as you kissed the corner of his lips.

Jade sighed, but the way his arms came up to wrap around you betrayed his true feelings. “You are incorrigible,” he murmured, his voice fond.

“Thank you,” you replied cheerfully, planting one final kiss on his forehead before letting him sit up.

But Jade wasn’t one to let you have all the fun.

One afternoon, after dragging him away from his duties yet again to smother him with kisses, you found yourself suddenly spun around and pinned gently against the wall.

“Now, now,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in close. “It seems only fair that I get a turn, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your breath hitched as his mismatched eyes glinted with amusement, and before you could respond, he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. Then your cheek. Then your jaw.

“J-Jade!” you stammered, your face heating up.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied, entirely too smug as he trailed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“This—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”

He chuckled, finally pulling back to look at you. “Oh? And how is it supposed to go?”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “I’m supposed to be the one attacking you with affection, not the other way around!”

Jade smiled, a rare, genuine expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I suppose turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?”

And as he leaned in to kiss you again, you decided that, yeah, maybe it was.

Floyd Leech

Being in a relationship with Floyd Leech meant two things: chaos and spontaneity. But what Floyd didn’t expect was the level of cuteness aggression you’d unleash on him daily.

It started innocently enough. Floyd would flash you one of his sharp-toothed grins, or he’d laugh that unhinged laugh of his, and you’d feel your entire brain short-circuit.

His mismatched eyes, the way his hair fell over his face, the effortless energy he carried—it all combined into something so painfully adorable that you couldn’t handle it.

And you didn’t.

The first incident occurred in the Mostro Lounge during a busy shift. Floyd was juggling three trays like a circus act, laughing at a poor customer’s flustered expression. You were seated at the counter, watching him, and suddenly, it hit you.

“Shrimpyyy! What’re ya staring at?” Floyd called, his grin only widening as he caught you watching him.

Bad move. That grin. That grin was your undoing.

You slammed a tip down on the counter and marched straight up to him. “Floyd. Put the trays down.”

“Huh? But—”

“Put them down,” you said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind the counter before he could even think to protest.

“Oi, Shrimpy, what’s the deal?!”

“You. Are. Too. Cute!” you hissed, before cupping his face and attacking him with kisses.

“Wha—hey!” Floyd’s laughter echoed through the empty kitchen as you smothered his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses. “You’re so weird! I love it!”

By the time you were done, Floyd’s face was flushed (a rare sight), and his laughter had turned soft, almost shy.

“Shrimpy,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re lucky I like ya so much. Otherwise, I’d squeeze ya for embarrassin’ me like this.”

You grinned, pulling him in for one last peck on the lips. “You love it.”

“…Yeah, I do,” he admitted, the grin returning full force.

This became a regular thing. Anytime Floyd did something that struck you as particularly adorable—whether it was his lazy, stretched-out posture during naps, the way his lips pouted when he was annoyed, or even the way he lit up like a kid when he got his favorite snacks—you’d pounce.

“Shrimpy, you’re at it again!” he’d laugh, squirming in your arms as you peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s the big idea, huh?”

“You’re too cute. I can’t stand it,” you’d reply every time, as if that explained everything.

And for Floyd, it kind of did.

One particularly memorable incident happened during a basketball game. Floyd was on fire, scoring point after point while practically dancing across the court. His energy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else in the stands.

When the game ended and his team won, Floyd looked up at you, his grin wide, sweat dripping down his face, and he yelled, “Did ya see that, Shrimpy?! I’m the MVP!”

That was it. That was the moment. You didn’t even wait for him to come to you. You climbed down from the bleachers, sprinted across the court, and tackled him in a hug.

“Shrimpy! What’re ya—”

“You’re so cute when you’re excited!” you exclaimed, kissing his sweaty cheek.

The entire gym went silent as everyone stared, but Floyd? Floyd cackled so loudly that it echoed off the walls.

“Ha! You’re unbelievable, Shrimpy,” he said, hugging you back tightly. “But I like that about ya. Keep it comin’!”

It wasn’t just in public, either. Even in quiet moments, Floyd basked in your affection.

One night, as the two of you lounged on the couch in your dorm, Floyd rested his head on your lap, dozing lightly. His peaceful expression, the way his lashes rested against his cheek, the soft rise and fall of his chest—it was too much.

“Floyd,” you whispered, nudging him gently.

He opened one eye, looking up at you. “Hmm? What’s up, Shrimpy?”

“You’re adorable,” you said simply, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

He chuckled, shifting to wrap his arms around your waist. “Man, you’re obsessed with me, huh?”

“Yep. Totally obsessed.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you down so you were lying on top of him. “’Cause I’m obsessed with ya too.”

Floyd might have been unpredictable and chaotic, but there was one constant in his life: you, and the relentless affection you showered him with.

And if anyone dared to comment on it, Floyd would just grin, throw an arm around you, and say, “What? Shrimpy can’t help themselves. I’m irresistible, duh!”

Masterlist

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neeeooon · 5 months ago

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Good afternoon, Elle. I'm here with my seventh? request. May I request: Divorcee!Blue Lock men finding out about their kid had with the ex-wife (Reader) after x. number of years. Characters: Chigiri, Yukimiya, any other characters you want

i gotchu ml <3 thank you for the req!

when they find out they have a kid

ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. angst, cursing, mentions of sex (no smut), chigiri and yuki’s kids have names

chigiri hyoma

-> “no way,” your legs shake as you take in your ex-husband’s appearance for the first time in nearly six years

-> when chigiri sees the child behind you, he’s almost offended that you moved on so quickly, based on the child’s older age. but then he sees the bright red fridge peeking out from beneath the boy’s beanie, and his heart stops

-> you hurriedly grab your son’s hand. “come on, hikari. we’re going to miss the bus, and i don’t want you out too long in this weather.” he mumbles a response and follows, but chigiri wraps a trembling hand around your arm, holding you in place

-> “y/n, what—“ “hey! let go of my mom!” hikari yells when he sees, immediately kicking chigiri in the shins in an attempt to “rescue” you

-> you would have laughed if you weren’t on the verge of a mental breakdown. telling your son to stop, you quickly step between the two and kneel down to match hikari’s height. “stop. thank you for protecting me, honey, but i… i know him. it’s okay.”

-> he’s not convinced, but your son knows better than to argue back with you. he shoots the man, his father, a single glare when you stand to catch chigiri’s shaky stare

-> “wh—y/n, what the fuck?” you decide against scolding him for cursing in front of a child considering the situation. “how old is he? how long… what the fuck! i have a son?”

-> you swallow hard. “yes.” behind you, hikari tenses. “he’s my dad? but he’s pretty!” you swat playfully at your son and try desperately not to laugh

-> the surprise meeting made you miss the bus, and chigiri offers to drive you home for a long overdue discussion

yukimiya kenyu

-> yukimiya never wanted his marriage to end. he loved you with everything within him, before and after everything happened, but your hectic work schedule always clashed with his, and you felt that you’d grown apart beyond repair

-> after one last night together, you left. you tried contacting your ex-husband when you cried over the positive pregnancy tests a month later, but his number had already been changed

-> you could have tried harder to reach out to him. you knew that. but how could you justify quitting your job to raise your daughter alone when you refused to leave to settle down with him?

-> you’re in the airport, returning home after visiting your parents. your daughter complained about being cold, so you stepped out of the way to grab her jacket from her suitcase. when you turned back to give it to her, she was gone

-> panic immediately clawed at your chest. no, no, no. she was right there! where could she have gone? frantic, you shove through the crowd, desperately calling your daughter’s name in hopes of her replying to you

-> with her pretty brown curls, your daughter is the spitting image of her father. tears of relief stream down your face when you spot your daughter jumping around a man, her arms raised to he held by him

-> you recognize him the instant you got a good look at his features, but you don’t even care. “nari!” you sobbed, dropping to your knees and scooping the little girl to your chest. “don’t ever leave without telling me, do you understand?”

-> “but, i found dada!” she giggled, completely oblivious to the hell she put you through. yukimiya stares down at you, jaw set. when nari pulls on his legs, he crouches down to match your heights

-> “y/n.” “kenyu.” “still working?” “…” you can’t reply. nari stumbles over to your ex-husband and squishes his cheeks between her hands. “isn’t dada handsome! i love him so much!” yukimiya gently removes himself from her grip to turn away so she doesn’t see him tearing up. there’s no denying that she is a yukimiya, so you force yourself to ask for kenyu’s new number. “we can talk about this later.”

nagi seishiro

-> “please don’t tell him,” you begged reo as he stared down at the grey-eyed toddler huddling by your legs

-> you were never close to reo despite being married to his best friend. you couldn’t deal with their work schedule, and nagi wasn’t willing to put the effort in to save your marriage, so you changed your number and left while he was playing an away game

-> reo tracked you down on social media two years later, wanting to check up on you when he stumbled across you and your son

-> “how could you keep this from him?” reo interrogated you, furious on his best friend’s behalf. his reaction set you off. “not tell him? as if he would even care! i’m doing what’s best for my son, and it’s keeping him to myself and loving him enough for the both of us.”

-> you didn’t know what reo already texted nagi before knocking on your door. the elevator dings, and your stomach drops when you spot your ex-husband with a bored expression on his face. the slight widening of his eyes is the only indication that he recognizes you

-> “wassup?” he says to your toddler, making you scoff. despite you, your son breaks out into the loudest, most gleeful laugh you’d ever heard him make. “sup!” he yells, trying to mimic nagi

-> you rub your forehead, extremely stressed, as nagi’s lip twitches at your son. “hm. mine?” “yep.” “his name?” you tell him, and when nagi calls to your son, he screams with laughter

-> you stand in the doorway with reo, watching nagi and your son playing together. “i don’t like this,” you admit, and reo nods. “it’s a distraction, for sure.” “wow. sorry my child, the one i wanted to keep from him, is a distraction. it’s almost as if i didn’t tell him for a reason.”

-> “you should have told me.” nagi’s voice startles you, as you didn’t even know he was listening. glancing up, his hooded eyes meet yours, and you can barely make out the tiny glint of hurt in them. “he’s cool. i’d had wanted to meet him.”

michael kaiser

-> kaiser was devastated when his marriage to you failed. he didn’t admit it at the time, too prideful and blinded by his rage for the game, and it was one of the reasons you got divorced in the first place

-> that devastation pales in comparison to what he feels when he sees you five years later. you and the little girl in your arms. the little girl with eyes just like his

-> “y/n,” your name is a choked whisper, but even if the crowded grocery store, you’d recognize it anywhere. guilt swells in your chest as you turn and lock eyes with your ex-husband. eyes like your daughters

-> she gives your hand a tug when she feels you freeze. “come on, mommy. we need to get the choco bears before they run out!” but you can’t move beneath kaiser’s unblinking gaze

-> as you watch kaiser staring down at his daughter, pain prevent on his face, you realize what a horrible mistake you’ve made

-> “kaiser, i…” but what could you possibly say? you always blamed his pride for destroying your marriage, when you were the one too prideful to ask for help. to tell him you had his daughter

-> your daughter gives your hand another tug. “mommy, the bears…” but she trails off when she sees how hard this random blond guy is staring at her. uncomfortable, your daughter shuffles behind your legs and out of his view

-> rubbing his eyes, kaiser roughly clears his throat and schools his features. “care to explain?”

oliver aiku

-> you and aiku got married on a whim. you’d been sleeping together for a few weeks, got wasted after he won at nationals, and got married that night

-> you were divorced a few days later and mutually decided to block each other, worried you might make another mistake if you met up again. little did you know, a big “mistake” was already planted !

-> four years later, you’re the single mom to a little girl with heterochromia. and her dad has no idea

-> you honestly believed you’d never see oliver ever again, and the thought didn’t bother you. you didn’t know him, not really. he was more of a one-night stand than an accidental husband, and knowing how much power he had as a professional soccer player, you weren’t going to risk him taking your daughter away from you

-> working at a bar by a soccer stadium, you’re usually up to date on which teams play when and always find cover on the days oliver is in town. however, your daughter has been sick, and after staying home with her, you’re out of money and can’t afford to miss work

-> of course, that’s the day oliver and his teammates stop by after the match for drinks. you prayed he didn’t recognize you, but the second he walked through the doors and saw you, the smirk on his face gave him away

-> you grinned back, internally panicking, but tried to play it cool. he didn’t know you had a daughter, his daughter, and you planned to keep it that way

-> “if it isn’t my ex-wife,” he chuckled, ditching his team and taking a seat at the bar. “it’s been a while. you’ve gotten even more ethereal.” you scoffed. “you always had a way with words, my dear ex-husband.”

-> you talk for a little while, and when you think he’s about to leave, oliver reaches over the bar and snatches your phone from your pocket. “hey, wait!” but it’s too late. when he sees your wallpaper, a picture of you and your daughter, his playful demeanor is gone

-> “not many kids out there with eyes like mine,” he tries to joke, but you can hear the strain in his voice. “oliver—“ “i understand. you wanted to protect her. keep her from me and my lifestyle. i get it. but fuck, you couldn’t have let me know she exists?”

-> “i didn’t want you to take her away from me,” you confessed, eyes welling with tears despite how angry you felt. hurt crossed his features. “i’d never do that.” “yeah, we’ll, how was i supposed to know that? we’re practically strangers.”

-> his fingers tighten on your phone. “i want to meet her.” “no.” “please.” “i don’t feel comfortable with that. maybe one day, but not today. not today.” he’s quite for a long time. then, he types his number into your phone and drops several hundred dollars onto the table before leaving

pt 2 // pt 3

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kxsagi · 4 months ago

Note

can you write something with the blue lock boys where the reader just tackles them in a hug, giving them a quick big squeeze before running away giggling to themselves

“𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬)”

a/n: THE FLUFF I NEEDED

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, ness alexis, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin

you tackle-hug him from the side and he just freezes like a cat that got surprised.

“... what was that?”

he watches you run away and roll around giggling like a gremlin and just blinks.

pretends it didn’t affect him. but he’s dead silent for the next ten minutes with ears red and a hand over the place you hugged.

texts you later like: don’t do that in public again. but you can do it again later. privately. maybe.

(he secretly loved it.)

isagi yoichi

bro malfunctions.

like you tackle-hug him and he just short circuits, arms frozen mid-air, eyes wide.

“huh? wait, hey! where are you going?!”

he starts laughing halfway through the sentence because your giggles are contagious.

ends up chasing you around like it’s tag. the moment he catches you, he returns the hug, but longer, tighter.

“you think you can just do that and run off?”

yes. yes you do. and you’ll do it again.

itoshi sae

he’s scrolling on his phone, completely unsuspecting. you hug-slam him and bolt.

he almost drops his phone.

“... you’re so weird.”

but he’s smiling. real soft. real fond.

instead of chasing you, he just walks over, catches you effortlessly mid-giggle, and holds you hostage in a calm, smug hug.

“you thought you were fast, huh?”

you are. just not faster than sae “calm menace” itoshi.

nagi seishiro

you run at him and squish him in a big hug and then disappear in a blur of laughter.

he stands there with his hair flopped over his face like ???

“huh… was that a dream?”

slowly turns his head and watches you wheeze in the corner.

doesn’t say anything, just shuffles over like a lazy zombie and collapses on you with his version of a tackle-hug.

“my turn. you woke me up for this, might as well finish it.”

mikage reo

squealed. actually squealed.

“babe!! what?!”

you zoom off before he can recover, and he’s left giggling with his whole face lit up.

immediately starts planning revenge (but like, romantic revenge. think rose petals and counter-hugs.)

posts a blurry selfie of you running away with the caption: my heart can’t take this kind of sneak attack 😭💜

you’re now banned from hugging him without a warning. he says this while opening his arms anyway.

chigiri hyoma

you charge and hug-tackle him and he stumbles a bit, but catches you halfway.

“what the hell?”

you sprint off laughing and he just stands there… stunned.

and then he SMIRKS.

“alright. you wanna play?”

you’ve accidentally started a high-speed game of “hug and run” where he catches you every time.

it ends with both of you rolling around on the floor, laughing and out of breath.

bachira meguru

he loved it.

you tackle-hug him and he giggles even louder than you do.

“wha?! hey! that was so cute, come back!!”

immediately chases you. you’ve started something you can’t finish.

when he catches you, it turns into a tickle war or a wrestling match.

“let’s make it a game. whoever gives the best hug wins.”

you’ve created a monster. a very affectionate one.

kaiser michael

you hit him with a surprise hug and he almost trips, dramatic gasp included.

“gott, schatz, are you trying to kill me with cuteness?”

he watches you run away laughing and just smirks.

“fine. you wanna play this game?”

proceeds to stalk you through the penthouse like a hunter, waiting for his moment.

when he does catch you, expect a long smug cuddle where you’re not allowed to escape. ever.

ness alexis

you come flying in like a giggling rocket and tackle-hug him mid-sentence.

“wah!! wh-what was that for?!”

arms flail. voice cracks. man is shaken.

watches you scamper off while wheezing, and just stands there pink in the face, clutching his chest like you stole his soul.

“you can’t just–! you can’t do that and then RUN!!”

stumbles after you, muttering about how “his heart can’t handle these kinds of jump scares.”

once he catches you, he hugs you back ten times tighter and refuses to let go.

“next time you pull something like that, i’m gluing you to my side.”

secretly loves it. replaying it in his head for the next 3-5 business days.

shidou ryusei

you full-on launch yourself into him like a cannonball.

“OH?!” he catches you with a wide grin, immediately intrigued.

you giggle and sprint away and he’s instantly chasing after you like it’s a game of tag.

“YOU WANNA PLAY, BABY? HELL YEAH.”

accidentally turns it into a wrestling match halfway through.

you: “it was just a hug!!”

him: “you touched me first, now i’m feral.”

ends with him piggybacking you through the house, refusing to let you touch the ground again.

karasu tabito

you tackle-hug him from behind and he jumps in surprise.

“yo?! what the hell?”

turns around to see you giggling and skipping away like you didn’t just send him into cardiac arrest.

smirks and calls after you: “you better run faster than that, sweetheart.”

starts following you slowly like a villain in a horror movie.

finally grabs your wrist with one hand, pulls you back for revenge with a lazy smile.

“payback’s gonna be fun.”

otoya eita

oh you hug-tackled the right man.

he immediately spins around and flirts back like you just proposed.

“if you wanted to be in my arms that bad, you could’ve just asked, baby.”

watches you scamper off and laughs to himself, clutching his chest like he’s lovestruck.

“adorable and bold? dangerous combo, angel.”

finds you later and sneaks up behind you with a slow, smooth hug.

“my turn. don’t run this time, yeah?”

yukimiya kenyu

you hug him out of nowhere, and he lets out a soft “ah!” before you disappear like a thief in the night.

stands there dazed for a second, adjusting his glasses, cheeks flushed pink.

“that was… very unexpected.”

lowkey dying inside. you just made his entire week.

when he sees you again, he gives you a small smile and softly says, “thank you for the hug. i’ll be stealing one back now, if that’s okay.”

ends up giving you the gentlest yet most heartfelt squeeze ever.

“next time, maybe stay a little longer.”

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ashes-of-rozes · 5 months ago

Text

When It Happened to Me

Relationships: Jason Todd x FEM!Reader

Warning(s): torture, scars, medical inaccuracies

“…by! Baby!”

You’re jerked awake, panic and fear instantly filling your veins. Warm, gloved hands cup your face, “Hey, look at me?” Your eyes snap up, meeting a familiar red helmet. “Ja…son?” The word is cracked, throat sore and deprived of water for days. A soft, muffled sound and then his helmet is coming off and you can catch his eyes.

A beautiful blue. Yet darker with fear and worry when they look at you. Gloved hands gently touch your face and you wince. Your body aches. Everywhere. Breathing hurts. Blinking around dry eyes. He immediately removed his hand and you whine, missing his touch. Even if it was painful.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, reaching above you to quickly and efficiently remove your bindings, “I’m getting you out of here.” Less than a minute later, the last knot is undone. Arms weak, feet hanging above the ground— you fall. Jason catches you instantly. You can’t help the pained whine that leaves your throat but you lean in closer to him. Ignoring the pain.

Jason’s here.

You’re okay.

“It’s raining,” he whispers, voice soft. He’s always soft for you. The next thing you know his jacket is draped over you like a blanket it. The leather wet, but the fabric still holding his previous body heat. Your eyes fall heavy again.

He kisses your forehead. Soft. Barely felt. But no less caring than every other one. “Stole the Batmobile,” he mumbles, “You’ll be comfortable in the back. You can heal properly back at the cave.” A soft noise of protest is all you can manage.

You just want him to take you back home. Let your fiancé bathe you, feed you, and then sleep. Who cares about all your injuries? Jason’s all that matters. But you barely managed to say his name without crying out in pain. So no arguing.

Your eyes are heavy and closed. Your soul floating just out of your body as you let the sounds of distant sirens and the soft patter of rain drown you. It feels wonderful.

Your body is in constant pain but it’s dulled under the water from the sky. Each drop hurts. But at the same time, you feel nothing but warm Gotham-polluted water.

A soft click and then Jason’s gently laying you down across the warmed up black leather seats.

Seat warmers, you think distantly, letting yourself be maneuvered. Once you’re secure enough for your finances liking, Jason kisses your bare, injured ankle and gently closes the door. The warmth from the heater, Jason’s jacket and the leather seats lulled you to sleep.

⌑ ⌑ ⌑

When you open your eyes again, bright fluorescent lights are shinning above you.

A groan escaped your lip and you immediately close your eyes again.

“How are you feeling?” That’s Tim’s voice.

“Like I got tortured for a week,” you mumble, slowly sitting up, ignoring the pain. “Welcome to the club,” he mumbles. Slowly, head pointed at the ground, you flutter your eyes open. The light stings but it’s temporary compared to the rest of the pain.

You look around, noticing you’re in the cave’s med-bay. Jason’s passed out at the foot of the bed. Tim’s in the corner of the room, typing away on his laptop. “How long has he been like this,” you ask, voice still rough. Throat still dry. “He hasn’t slept since you were taken,” Tim says, “Passed out pretty much the moment Alfred said you’d be okay. Hasn’t moved in almost a day.”

Guilt slammed into you.

“And you,” you ask, “Why are you here?”

Tim finally stops typing on the laptop, looking up at you.

Sometimes you think all of Bruce’s sons are genetically related. They all get the exact same look when they don’t want to talk about their feelings.

“Bruce is taking up the rest of the cave—“

“Tim,” you interrupt. He stares at you with that same look for minutes. He looks guilty. Embarrassed, almost. Ashamed, definitely. “I should’ve found you sooner,” he says, closing the laptop and running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.” “Why are you sorry,” you ask. “If I found you sooner maybe you wouldn’t be— Jason could’ve—“ He paused. “I have one job. To track down what goes missing. And yet …”

You smile. Sad. Painful. It hurts to lift your lips. “Tim, it’s not your fault. You look dead. Please tell me you got more sleep than Jason?” Tim blinks and looks away. “Go,” you scold softly, “Bed.”

“But—“

“Bed, Timothy.”

He sighs and reluctantly stands, heading towards the door.

“Tim?”

He pauses, looking over his shoulder and back at you. “Thank you. For finding me.” Tim returns the smile, soft and tired and walks out.

“He’s actually going to bed.”

You jump, eyes falling in the source of the voice. Jason’s eyes are still closed but there’s a soft, content smile on his lips. “I knew I wanted to marry you for a reason,” he mumbles. He sits up slowly, eyes falling on your bandages, your bruises. His hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“How ya feeling,” he asks. “I’ve definitely felt better,” you smile reassuringly, “Could go for a glass of water. Or gallon. Or tank. Which ever is easiest.” He laughs and stands, leaning over to kiss your forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

Jason’s lingers a moment longer before slowly exiting the room. Reluctant to let you out of his sight. Even now. Even safe.

He comes back a few moments later with a glass of water and a pitcher. He hands you the water which you take with almost greedy hands. He smiles, running his fingers through your hair as you chug down the cold liquid inside. “Easy, ma,” he whispers, “Alfred said your throat will be sore for a while…”

His hand falls to his side.

“Jay…”

He sighs, slumping back in the seat at the foot of your bed, “I’m sorry.” You frown, setting down the water. “I should’ve,” he swallows and you can see the tears in his eyes, “I should’ve been with you.” He was. The night you were taken, you and him planned to have dinner together but Dick needed help. “There’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen,” you try to reassure.

“We live in Crime Alley! It’s right there in the name,” he shouts, voice shaking. “Two years, love. And nothing like this has happened—“

“I got comfortable. I let my guard down,” he stands up so fast the chair clatters to the floor, “And you paid the price for it!” He’s spiraling again. He groans, running his fingers through his hair, tears of anger and self-hatred streaming down his face, “This is all my fault. You’re not safe with me! Maybe we should postpone the wedding or—“

You rip out your I.V. and pull off the patches on your chest. The monitor flatlines. Jason’s gaze is on you immediately, panicked. There’s just enough adrenaline in your veins for your legs to not shake when you stand.

“No— lay back down,” he takes a step forward, reaching out for you. “Jason,” he gently take his outstretched hand, “I am marrying you.”

“Ma—“

“Do you love me,” you ask. Jason looks offended, “More than anything.” The tension in your muscles ease a little. “I want to marry you,” you say, “This doesn’t change a thing.” “It should,” he gently squeezes your hand, “You should hate me.”

“I don’t,” you insist, “This wasn’t your fault. Or Tim’s. Or anyone else who is blaming themselves. It was horrible but it was not your fault.” Jason blinks, tears slowing down. He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” You return the hug, arms shaky and weak but determined to hold him.

“I love you, future Mrs. Todd,” he mumbles into your neck.

“I love you too.”

⌑ ⌑ ⌑

Epilogue:

Jason’s hands were on you the second you stood in front of him.

His thumb gently brushed across your wrist, where scar tissue circled all around. You smile. Jason loves the scars you gained. Worships them.

“The veil,” you whisper. Jason blinks and shakes his head, smiling. He lets go of your wrists and lifts the veil. He brushes his knuckle across the scar on your neck, smiling.

Tim clears his throat, “Jason. Hands to yourself.” Jason glares at his brother, “She’s my wife—“

“Not until I’m done. Hands to yourself,” Tim smirks, smug. Jason scoffs but complies.

Tim goes through the officiating process.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jason cups your face with one hand, the other on the small of your back and bends you down, lips crashing against yours.

As your dress falls to the ground that night and Jason is on you instantly. He doesn’t stop till the sun comes up. And only then it’s a break. And then he’s on your again.

Praising you. Loving you. Worshipping you.

Yeah. This was the right choice.

masterlist

#jason todd #dc comics #batfam #writing #writers on tumblr #jason todd x reader #fem!reader #batboys #fanfic

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nekonaps0 · 1 month ago

Note

Hiii, first time requesting smth from you but i LOVE your work! Its just so easy to read, its descriptive but not too wordy, which is a pet peeve of mine for fan fics lol.

Anyway, could you write a reader/idia of an unlikely pairing? Like the reader is almost a polar opposite of idia but they somehow manage to get together?

Thank you so much! And again, keep up the good work <3

Out of my league

✦fem!reader

✦characters: Idia

✦Social anxiety (Idia), fluff overdose, Idia overthinking literally everything

The first time Idia Shroud noticed you, it was because you were loud.

Not in the annoying way. Not in the “make him mute the game” way. Just…so present.

You moved through Night Raven like you belonged in the center of every scene: laughing in the dining hall, calling out to people in the hallway, showing up to class with glitter on your face and a joke in your mouth. You wore the loudest colors. You clapped when you laughed.

You were, in every possible way, a walking migraine to his quiet existence.

So why, in the name of all things, did his stomach do a weird little flutter every time you passed by?

It started with an accident. You had wandered into the Ignihyde dorm looking for Ortho who adored you, naturally and you got lost.

He panicked when you suddenly knocked on his door and you just stand in his doorstep with a big smile. Not because he didn’t want you there. But because his room was a disaster of cables, figurines, wall-to-wall monitors, and one very red, very reclusive housewarden in pajama pants…

You looked around with stars in your eyes and said

“Holy crap, your room looks like the inside of an anime opening! This is SO COOL.”

Idia glitched.

Like, emotionally glitched.

No one ever said his world was cool. He spent years trying to keep it separate from everyone else’s.

You plopped down on his beanbag chair like you belonged there and pointed at one of his favorite rare figurines.

“Is that the limited edition figurine from that new anime? One of my friend has one. He says it’s cursed.”

He choked on his own spit.

You grinned. “So… are you cursed too?”

He didn’t know what to do with that.

•

You didn’t stop visiting.

At first, Idia assumed you were just being nice, or maybe doing some weird social experiment to see if he’d explode.

But you kept showing up. Kept dragging him into sunlight… metaphorically, thank the gods… and demanding his opinion on things.

“Would you still like me if I was a worm?”

 “Which anime would we be the power couple in?”

 “Should I dye my hair blue to match yours, or would that be cringe?”

He answered in stammers and soft muttering, while his hair burned pink like he was about to self-combust.

You made it worse by leaning in every time.

Like he was worth listening to.

The thing about you was: you never asked him to change.

You didn’t force him to go to parties. You didn’t drag him into crowds. You just… showed up. With snacks. With stories. With shiny trinkets and strange animal facts and the warmest presence he’d ever known.

And somehow, despite all odds, Idia started opening the door before you knocked.

One day, he asked.

“Why do you… like hanging out with someone like me?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, like, sunshine and shouting. And I’m… basement gloom and digital ghosts.”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “And yet, here you are, warming up to me like a lizard in a heat lamp.”

He short-circuited.

But you weren’t done.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re easy to be around. You don’t fake things. You care about stuff…like, deeply. And when you talk about the things you love? You glow, Idia. You’re brilliant.”

He stared. Speechless.

And then you kissed his cheek. Casual. Soft. Like it wasn’t the biggest moment of his life.

“Also,” you added, winking, “you’re cuter than you think.”

Idia was red for six hours straight.

•

It took time…weeks…months, loaded silences and soft heartbeats, but eventually…

You were curled beside him on the bed, watching a boss fight. You shouted excitedly when he landed a crit. He blushed. You cheered. He muttered something about how his “damage stat increased just because you were watching.”

And then, quietly, tentatively, he took your hand.

“I don’t… I mean, I didn’t think… someone like you could like someone like me.”

You turned and kissed the top of his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Shroud. We’re a legendary drop—rare, chaotic, and somehow exactly what we needed.

..............................................................................................................................

Hiiii~ I hope you like it ✨

#twst x reader #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst idia #idia #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud x oc #idia shroud x yuu #idia x mc #idia x yuu #idia x you

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xedeon · 3 months ago

Text

You bouta have ALL my babies ♡ Multiple blue lock

.ᐟcw: suggestive, mentions of doing it, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy stupidness

Isagi Yoichi

He FREEZES. Like mid-bite of his sandwich, just blinking at you. You casually go, “Yeah... I’m marrying you. You’re about to have all my babies.” Isagi short-circuits. “HUH?!”

Face bright red, ears burning, sandwich forgotten. “B-Babies?! Now?! You can’t just— I mean—” He fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck, flustered but clearly thinking about it way too seriously now.

Later that night, he hugs you way too tight while mumbling, "…wouldn't mind though. You’d look really cute pregnant..."

Shidou Ryusei

You say it once, and this man immediately pulls you into his lap. Grinning all sharp and wide, eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh? Is that right, princess?"

You can feel how excited he instantly gets against you. "Then c'mere," he whispers against your neck, voice low and rough. "Let's get started on that army, huh? Hope you’re ready to be walking funny tomorrow."

He’s so serious about it you have to literally scramble away before he acts on it immediately.

Alexis Ness

You say it so casually while he’s fixing his hair. And poor Ness just short-circuits. Goes beet red and drops his comb. "Wh-what?! Babies?! Marrying?! U-Uh—uhm!!"

He frantically tries to fix his hair again even though his hands are shaking.

Would 100% start nervously rambling about how he needs to start planning everything— "Where would we live? Would you want a pet too? O-Or a garden? Maybe we could—!"

You just giggle while he’s literally spiraling, thinking about your entire married life together. "you're so cute, baby!" you squeal, hugging him

Rin Itoshi

You’re chilling together, scrolling through your phone, and you just casually mumble, "Yeah, I’m marrying you. You’re gonna give me all your babies." Rin CHOKES on his water. Then glares at you, cheeks tinted pink.

"Shut up," he grumbles—but he can’t meet your eyes and the tips of his ears are bright red.

Later, when you're dozing off on the couch, he whispers, “.. 's not like I'd mind...” and presses a kiss to your temple.

Michael Kaiser

Kaiser would smirk like the cockiest mf alive. "Really, princess? Can't blame you, schatz." He’d grab your chin gently and make you look at him. "All my babies, hm?"

He says it mockingly, but the way his voice drops an octave... you KNOW he's taking it seriously. He’d lean in real close and whisper against your lips, "If you want it that bad... I'll fill you up right now, hübsches Mädchen." (You’re not escaping without getting absolutely ruined.)

Sae Itoshi

You say it after he does something mundane—like handing you your favorite snack without being asked, or casually fixing your computer like it was nothing. You're half-joking, dramatic on purpose. But Sae freezes mid-step. "…What?"

You grin. “You ‘bout to have all my babies, Sae. I’m locking this down.” He stares at you like you’ve grown another head. Then scoffs, shaking his head. “…Tch. You’re annoying.” But the tips of his ears are red.

Later, when you're curled up next to him watching a movie, he mumbles under his breath, “You’d probably look good with my babies…”

(He thinks about it for days. And suddenly starts pulling out less. )

Bachira Meguru

You say it while he’s being cute. Like handing you your favorite hoodie or offering you a weird snack combo only he would think of. You go full dramatic “Meguru. I’m marrying you. You’re about to have ALL my babies.” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“All of them?! Even the chaos goblin ones??” Then he tackles you onto the couch, giggling.

"You really wanna be stuck with me forever, huh~?"

Later, he doodles a lil stick-figure family on your arm with hearts and writes “Future Bachira babies” in Sharpie.

Taglist:@samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @sillykittiessss

A/n: This made me giggle, lol

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

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vibelladonna · 3 months ago

Text

✑ 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝑒𝓃

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: It started as a joke—a casual tease whispered into the ears of your closest friends, never meant to go beyond harmless daydreams. You had once donned a bunny suit for them, after all. In my opinion, it was only fair that they returned the favor, right?

What? You didn’t expect them to actually do this right?

Now, one by one, your choice, the men of TKATB + Special Guest ! ! stand before you, ears twitching, tails bouncing, and suits hugging them in ways that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

My dearest readers, I absolutely adore the artist alyysahh, or what many of us know as Waza on [ TikTok ] and [ Twitter ]. Her art inspires me so much—she even sparked the idea for part two—this from this fanfic [ 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉 ] I’m so excited, omg!

The rules are simple: look, but don’t touch... unless, as always you dare to find out just how far the bunny boys are willing to go for your approval.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Such Mister Bunny Blues.

You blink. Once. Twice.

And then you stare, because what else are you supposed to do when Crowe—the ever-composed, polished, practically dream-worthy Crowe—is standing in your living room wearing a dark blue bunny suit?

It fits him too well. Hugging every sculpted line of his body, the matching floppy ears drooping pitifully over his brow, and a tiny, ridiculous puff of a tail perched right above... Places you should definitely not be looking at—You look anyway. You’re only human.

His face is already red, a deep, molten flush darkening his beautiful skin, but he holds his ground like a man about to face a firing squad. Or a firing squad armed with bad pickup lines and worse intentions — yours included.

"You're—" you sputter, laughter clawing its way up your throat, "Crowe, what the hell are you doing? Well, wearing, dear?”

He shifts awkwardly, and the tiny bunny tail wiggles.

You might actually die right then and there, your soul floating out of your body in sheer blissful absurdity.

"I noticed," he says, voice low and steady — the kind of tone he usually reserves for comforting small animals and broken hearts — "you seemed... off lately. Sad." He tugs gently at the loose braid hanging off his shoulder, a nervous habit you know better than you should. "I thought... maybe this would help."

You blink again, your heart doing something catastrophically stupid inside your chest.

He did this—this—for you?

Crowe, the walking embodiment of poise and calm, decided to prance around in a bunny suit because you were a little gloomy?

God, you were going to marry him out of spite.

"You thought dressing up like the world's most handsome Easter reject would cheer me up?" you tease, stalking closer like a predator that's just spotted very, very vulnerable prey.

You reach up and flick one of the floppy ears. It bounces.

Crowe flinches like you just electrocuted him.

"I don't regret it," he mutters, eyes locked on your —deep blue, steady, dangerous in a way that ties knots in your stomach. "If it makes you smile... I'll do a lot worse."

You bite your lip, feeling heat bloom deliciously up your spine. It’s criminal, truly criminal, how he manages to look so devastatingly good even while trying very hard to pretend he isn't internally combusting. Shiiii really and vice versa. YOU tried so hard not to combust.

His long fingers—those beautiful hands you’ve absolutely not thought about at night, nope, not once—clench and unclench at his sides. His nails, well-kept and gleaming, catch the golden glow of the living room light.

Strands of dark hair have slipped free from his braid, falling across his cheek in a way that demands your attention, demands your touch. The temptation to grab him by the ears—to tug, to pull, to ruin him—is almost overwhelming.

"You're a menace," you whisper, smirking wickedly.

"And you're worth it," he murmurs back, voice low, rough, wrecked.

The room feels too small now. Too hot. The air crackles between you, so thick and heavy you could wrap your fingers around it. You take one daring step closer, close enough to smell him — warm and clean, with the faintest hint of something woodsy and natural underneath, like he’s just come in from standing in the spring rain.

You trail a single finger down his chest, slow enough that Crowe visibly shudders. Poor thing—still trying so hard to stay composed, to stay gentlemanly, even while dressed like a snack-shaped bunny.

You are a cruel, cruel person.

"You know," you muse aloud, drawing innocent little circles against the silk of his costume, feeling the thundering beat of his heart beneath your fingertip, "you didn't have to go this far, Crowe. I mean, if you wanted my attention, you could’ve just, oh, I don’t know..."

You grin up at him, flashing teeth. "Kissed me."

Crowe makes a noise.

A soft, panicked sound, half-choked at the back of his throat. "I—" He freezes. "I wouldn't... presume—"

You reach up, grab the floppy ears between your hands, and tug him down.

There’s the faintest split-second where he realizes what’s happening—where you see the panic flare bright in those beautiful blue eyes—before you crash your mouth against his.

Crowe melts. Absolutely, spectacularly melts.

One of his arms locks around your waist on instinct, hauling you up against him—so much strength, so much quiet, hidden power—and his other hand fists into your hair like he’s drowning and you’re the only solid thing left in the world.

His mouth is soft and reverent against yours, as if he's memorizing you, as if he's scared to take too much, even when you’re the one who started it.

You smile into the kiss—a little smug, a lot victorious— and nip playfully at his bottom lip.

That does it.

Crowe makes a small, desperate sound, deep in his chest, and kisses you harder. It's not perfect. He's a little clumsy, a little frantic, as if he's scared you'll pull away, laugh at him, regret it—but it's real, and it's messy, and it's him, and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

When you finally break apart for air, Crowe looks wrecked. Flushed, panting, wide-eyed and disheveled, his bunny ears flopping pitifully to one side.

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

"You’re... evil," he breathes, voice hoarse.

"And you," you say, cupping his face between your hands, "are mine, mister bunny."

Crowe groans, low and helpless, and buries his face against your shoulder — probably to hide how violently he’s blushing. You pat the fluffy bunny tail mockingly. It wiggles again.

Crowe stands there, his back rigid, the dark blue bunny suit clinging to every inch of his body like it’s made specifically to torture you. You can’t help but let your gaze drop, catching that tiny tail wiggling as he shifts, trying — failing — to act like he’s still the composed, collected man you know.

His breath is still uneven, a bit of flush lingering on his cheeks, and his posture is so stiff it might as well be a marble statue. But there’s something else. Something in his eyes.

That dangerous glint.

And the way his gaze flicks to your lips every few seconds is enough to set your pulse pounding again.

You lean against the couch, arms crossed casually—too casually, almost—watching him with a smirk. "You know," you tease, your voice dripping with sweet venom, "You look a little... flustered there, Crowe. I thought you were the composed one?"

Crowe shoots you a side glance, and you can see the way his hands twitch, like he wants to grab you—or possibly strangle you—but instead, he just exhales sharply and straightens his back even more. His voice is a little tight.

“I’m fine. Just... fine.”

You hum, a sly smile playing at the corners of your lips as you walk toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, each one bringing you closer to his tense form. "I didn’t know bunnies got so... embarrassed. So cute, though. You should try wearing that more often. You know, maybe every day, just to brighten my mood."

His gaze snaps to yours, a brief flicker of guilt passing through those deep blue eyes—or is it resentment? Either way, you can see the crack in his armor. He’s pretending he’s unaffected, but it’s obvious.

He’s dying inside.

"You're... really pushing it." His voice is soft, but the way his jaw clenches as he grinds out the words says otherwise.

You smirk, and without warning, you slap his ass. Hard.

The sound rings through the room, and his entire body tenses. His head jerks back, and he makes a sharp, strangled noise that, frankly, you didn’t expect.

The fabric of his bunny suit pulls taut against his body as you let your hand rest there for just a moment too long, watching the play of muscles under his skin flex, feeling the warmth of his body.

"Oh, come on," you tease, your fingers trailing dangerously close to where the curve of his ass meets his thighs. "That bubble is so much bigger than mine. Who would've thought, huh?"

Crowe’s eyes flash with something darker—defiant. Before you can blink, his hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and spinning you around with effortless strength. You stumble, caught off guard, and end up pressed against the nearest wall.

Your breath hitches.

Crowe stands there, inches away, his chest rising and falling, his breath heavy against your neck. His hand still holds your wrist, but the grip is no longer tight.

It’s more... possessive now.

“You think I’m embarrassed?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "I’m not the one who needs to be embarrassed right now, are we?"

You feel his free hand glide over your body, skimming your waist, your ribs, before settling dangerously close to your hips. He’s leaning into you, his breath hot on your skin, sending a shiver straight through you.

"Don't act like you're not enjoying this." His voice is low, almost a growl, but there’s a smirk in it. He’s not quite teasing anymore. He’s all in control now, leaning into the teasing game in a way you didn’t expect.

And then, like a switch flipping, he presses his lips to your neck—soft, slow kisses at first. But as your breath catches, he intensifies them, biting gently, nipping at the sensitive skin right beneath your ear.

You’re trapped. Not physically, but emotionally.

He’s got you exactly where he wants you.

You can’t help the way your pulse picks up. You grab the front of his suit, pulling him closer as if you need him to prove that you’re right, that he's just as tangled in this as you are. "Crowe..." you whisper, a mixture of longing and challenge.

Before you can say anything else, his hand slides up your side, cupping your jaw gently but firmly. His thumb brushes your lower lip, a simple, intimate gesture that sends a wave of heat rushing to your core.

"You like me dress up as a bunny, don't you?" His voice is rougher now, darker.

You open your mouth to respond, to fire back another snarky comment, but you don't get the chance. Crowe closes the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so deep, so heated, that it almost knocks the air from your lungs. His kiss is demanding, but there's also a tenderness to it, as if he's trying to show you exactly how much he's willing to do for you. How far he'll go.

And maybe it's the way he presses against you, pinning you into the wall with his weight. Or maybe it's the sudden surge of need between you two—but when he pulls back, there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Now," he breathes against your lips, "I think this mister bunny should teach you a lesson."

Before you can even brace yourself, Crowe’s hands are on your hips, lifting you off the ground and pinning you up and against the wall, holding you there as his lips return to your neck, kissing and biting with a growing hunger. He’s marking you now—staking his claim.

“Now tell me where I should start first…” he murmurs, his voice breathless, as his lips trail down your collarbone. “…my beautiful starlight.”

He kisses his way back up to your ear, biting down softly as you gasp. “I-I don’t know!!"

"Mhm, nothing? Fine I’ll choose for you ."

Yep. Fucking. Best. Day. Ever.

no words, like no words, dearest readers, AHHHHHHH.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Emo Bunny Attention Seeker.

You’re just sitting there. Minding your business.

Or at least, pretending to, stretched lazily across Sol’s bed like you owned it—because let’s be honest, you kinda did. One leg crossed over the other, twirling your phone between your fingers, content to simply exist in the familiar comfort of his room.

His soft scent wrapped around you like a warm blanket—a mix of cedarwood, something sweet and sharp underneath, and whatever shampoo he used that made you want to bury your face in his hair and never come out again.

You hear the telltale creak of the closet door opening.

Sol’s quiet, almost suspiciously so, and then you hear it: a small, nervous huff, like he’s working up the courage to face down a firing squad. You glance up casually. And promptly choke on air.

Standing there, awkward and stiff, cheeks burning brighter than a dying sun, is Sol — your sweet, bashful, absolutely doomed Sol — wearing a dark green bunny suit.

And not just any bunny suit.

This thing clings to every muscle, every dip and flex of his body like it was stitched directly onto his skin. His black-and-green streaked hair falls messily around his shoulders, those crimson-orange eyes wide and pleading under the weight of the matching floppy ears drooping pathetically over his forehead.

Fishnet tights hug his long legs, and bruises — old, new, kissed purple and yellow — scatter across his arms and thighs, peeking through the mesh.

You don’t even get the chance to fully process it before — plop — the breast flap of the bunny suit flips down, casually revealing one of his nipple piercings, the little silver barbell gleaming like a beacon in the dim light.

You stare. He stares back. Time stops.

You bite your lip—hard—to keep the howl of laughter that bubbles up from ripping out of your throat. “Oh. My. God," you manage, grinning wide enough to hurt. You sit up on your knees, predatory now, delight buzzing in your veins.

Sol immediately flinches like you physically touched him, his hands scrambling to cover the exposed skin, bunny tail wiggling frantically behind him.

"I—! I d-didn't mean for that to—!" he stammers, voice cracking halfway through, as red floods all the way down his throat, painting him guilty and so, so deliciously adorable.

You lick your lips, slow and deliberate, dragging your gaze up and down his body like you’re memorizing every sinful inch. “Sol, sweetheart,” you purr, tilting your head. “You sure you’re not trying to seduce me?"

His knees buckle. Actually, buckle. The poor thing grips the edge of his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

"I—I just—!" he blurts, eyes wide and glassy, red face, the fishnets squeaking slightly as he shifts his weight. "I just wanted you to— to look at me, and maybe— maybe you’d—"

“Maybe I’d what?" you coax, crawling forward across the bed like a slow, lazy predator, letting him watch you stalk him.

He swallows audibly, throat bobbing.

"Maybe y-you’d touch me," he whispers, so soft you almost don't catch it. His fists tighten, knuckles white. "Y-You always look so good on my bed, and I— I just wanted to—"

You practically purr with amusement, stopping at the edge of the mattress, sitting back on your heels, crossing your arms. "Come here, Emo Bunny," you say, voice like velvet wrapping around a knife.

He doesn't even hesitate—he stumbles forward, bunny tail bouncing, cheeks burning, until he’s standing right in front of you, trembling like a leaf.

You trail a finger up his fishnet-clad thigh, slow and teasing, until you can feel the muscle jump beneath your touch.

He shudders. Whimpers.

"Please," he gasps out, desperate now, the word ripped straight from his soul. His hands flex uselessly at his sides, like he’s aching to grab you but too scared to move without permission.

You smirk. Wicked.

"Please what, bunny?" you ask, tipping your chin up, making him look down into your eyes. "Use your words, pretty boy."

His face crumples, overwhelmed with how much he wants, how much he needs you—it’s almost tragic, really. "I—!" He bites his lip, shaking his head, shame and need warring inside his body. "Please... touch me... please just—!"

You let your hands roam, slow and deliberate, trailing up over his hips, feeling the tremble of his thighs, the heat radiating from his skin under the thin, humiliating fabric. You tug gently at the strap dangling from where the top had flopped down, snapping it lightly against his chest.

He whines. A sound so pathetic, so gorgeous, you could’ve melted into the mattress right then and there.

"You're lucky you're cute," you murmur, thumb brushing teasingly close to his exposed nipple, feeling him jerk under the lightest touch. His hands finally move — only to grip your shoulders, grounding himself like he might float away otherwise.

"Please," he repeats, broken now, voice hoarse, wrecked. "I’m yours—please just—anything you want, I’ll—"

You smile—wide, dangerous, cruel in your affection. "Anything, huh?" you hum, dragging your nails lightly down his sides, watching him physically twitch under the featherlight sensation.

He nods frantically, the floppy bunny ears bouncing with the motion. "Anything," he breathes, reverent. Worshipful.

Fuck, he’s beautiful like this—flushed and trembling and ready to fall apart just because you looked at him like you wanted to eat him alive.

You hook a finger through the key necklace dangling against his chest, tugging him down so he’s eye-level with you.

His breath stutters. His eyes are huge, wide and glassy and so, so ready. "Good boy," you whisper against his lips, just barely brushing, not kissing — no, you control this.

"Now, beg a little prettier for me, Emo Bunny."

You watch him closely, eyes narrowing with that playful, teasing gleam as Sol stands there, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. His wide, uncertain eyes never leave yours, but there's something else there now—need. A desperate, aching need that you've ignited with just a few words, a flick of your wrist.

“Good boy,” you whisper again, your voice dripping with affection and cruelty in equal measure. You reach up, fingers curling into the strands of his messy hair, tugging him closer. Sol doesn’t resist — hell, his breath catches when you pull on it, his body leaning forward instinctively, as if to be closer to you is the only thing that matters.

He’s so helpless under your touch.

“You want this, don’t you?” you murmur, just a breath away from his lips, savoring the scent of his skin, the electricity between you. Sol nods eagerly, a small sound—something between a moan and a whimper—escaping his throat. His breath is shallow, every word a struggle as he fights to hold himself together.

“Please,” he gasps again, his voice strained with need, “I need you. I’ll do anything. Just please—” His hips shift, like he’s trying to find some kind of release, but you stop him, pressing your palm flat against his chest.

“Down boy,” you command, just one word, but it has all the power.

Sol obeys instantly, his knees buckling as he lowers himself in front of you, the fabric of his bunny suit shifting with every motion. His lips are parted, face flushed with a mix of desire and humiliation, and the sight of him like this—so willing—makes your pulse race.

“On your knees,” you coax, your voice thick with authority, “You want to beg for it? Beg for me. Show me how desperate you really are.”

He obeys again, slower this time, hands trembling as he presses them to the floor. You can feel the tension building in him, his body coiled tight as a spring, ready to break.

Your foot slides out from beneath you, placing it gently—but with intent—on his bulge. The pressure is subtle at first, but you start to push down, slowly, deliberately. Sol gasps sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, looking at you like you’ve just commanded the stars to fall from the sky.

His entire body jerks under the weight of your foot. “Please,” he whispers, voice barely audible, but the word is there, dripping with need. “Please, don’t—don’t tease me anymore.”

You increase the pressure, your foot pushing further against his thigh. Sol’s breath hitches, his entire body trembling like a leaf caught in the wind. His hands shake on the floor, fingers gripping the carpet as if that will ground him.

“Tell me what you want, Emo Bunny,” you say softly, knowing full well what it’ll do to him. His body shudders in response, and he lets out a soft whine, lips trembling.

“I—I want you,” he gasps, his voice cracking as he struggles to speak through the overwhelming wave of emotion and desperation. “Please... I’ll do anything, just please—”

You press down harder, making him gasp, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can feel his whole body shaking beneath your foot, a soft, almost pitiful sound escaping his lips as he tries to hold back. His breath is ragged now, and his eyes—those fiery orange and crimson eyes—are filled with so much need it’s almost too much to look at.

“You sound so pathetic, Bunny,” you tease, your voice laced with dark amusement.

“Begging for me like this. You really can’t take much, can you?”

Sol’s entire body shudders, and you watch his face twist with pleasure and frustration. He’s so far gone, he can’t even formulate a proper sentence anymore, just a jumble of desperate pleas.

“Please, please—” he whimpers, his voice breaking as he drags his hands to your legs, clutching at them, trying to pull you closer. His body is taut with tension, and you can see how badly he wants more.

“I need— please—”

You laugh softly, one hand tracing down the back of his neck, feeling the way he melts into your touch. You can’t help but marvel at how good he looks on his knees for you — how easy it is to make him beg.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you murmur, a dark promise in your tone. “I’m not going to leave you hanging. You’ve been so good for me.”

With a swift motion, you shift your foot to the side, and before he can even react, you grab his hair again, forcing his head back, exposing the delicate line of his throat. He lets out a soft gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you pull his head back to give you full access.

“Look at me,” you order, your voice firm, and Sol complies instantly, his eyes locking with yours. They’re full of pleading, full of fire.

He’s barely holding himself together.

“I want you to beg for it, Sol,” you whisper, pulling harder on his hair until his neck arches. His lips part, but no words come out—just a broken, frustrated moan. His hands scrabble at your sides, gripping your thighs as you shift forward, pressing your leg against his chest.

You smirk, dragging your thigh up until it brushes his lips. “Kiss.”

A shudder wracks through him, but he obeys, pressing his mouth to your skin in a feverish, open-mouthed kiss. His breath is ragged, his lips trembling as you rock against him, teasing the friction he so desperately craves.

“Beg me, Bunny,” you murmur, grinding down just enough to make him whimper. “Beg like you mean it.”

Sol gasps, his hands clutching your hips as he tears his mouth away just to plead, “Please—fuck, please—I can’t—I need—” His voice cracks, his body arching up against yours, seeking more.

You tug his hair again, forcing his head back. His gaze is wild, pupils blown, lips wet from kissing your skin. “Well, then,” you tease, rolling your hips slowly, watching him unravel, “you’ll just have to beg a little more prettily for me, won’t you?”

He chokes out a sob, fingers digging into your flesh. “Please—I need you so much, just—please—anything, I’ll do anything—”

You smile, wicked and satisfied, finally relenting. “Good boy.” You release him, smoothing a hand down his chest, feeling the rapid hammer of his heartbeat. Leaning down, you press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re so good for me, Bunny.” Your lips brush his ear as you whisper, “You’ve earned this.”

Sol shatters for you, right there—whispering desperate, frantic pleas against your skin, hands trembling, body tense and burning and begging you to ruin him in that stupid, adorable, obscenely hot bunny suit.

The tension between you two is electric, your breaths mingling as you press closer. His bunny ears—soft, slightly askew—tilt forward as he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a teasing promise.

"You’re keeping those on," you murmur against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair just beneath the fuzzy headband. He lets out a low chuckle, warm and wicked, before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Every touch burns—his hands gripping your hips, your nails dragging down his back—but it’s the sight of those damn bunny ears that undoes you.

And when he finally loses control, his head tipping back with a groan, those ears flop adorably to the side—just before you yank him back down to you, claiming his mouth again.

"Good boy."

ayyyyy, I’ve might got carried away, what?? I’m a big bully.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Mr. Grumpy Bunny

You didn't think the day would ever actually come.

Two months. Two entire months of coaxing, pleading, bargaining—bribing, even. You had tried everything short of selling your soul just to see Geo, the ever-serious, ever-stubborn Geo, in a bunny suit.

And now, here you were, casually sitting on the tatami floor mats, mindlessly dangling a feather toy above his black cat’s head. The little creature—sleek, yellow-eyed, and infinitely more willing to entertain you than his master—batted lazily at the feathers. You were completely engrossed, giggling under your breath, your knees tucked neatly beneath you on the smooth straw flooring.

You didn’t even hear him coming.

Only when a pair of feet entered your peripheral vision did you pause, the toy mid-sway in your hand.

You blinked slowly.

Sheer black tights. Shiny, bluish-purple bunny suit that hugged his lean figure like sin itself.

Matching gloves. Long, upright bunny ears perched atop his dark, bluish-purple hair, tied back neatly into that stubborn low ponytail you always teased him about.

His usual teal-and-white block earrings swayed slightly, catching the light, and that damn septum piercing glinted mischievously, almost like it was in on it.

You swallowed hard, your eyes dragging up his body like you were trying not to crash a car, until they finally met his aquamarine ones—irritated, narrowed, unmistakably Geo eyes. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, as though holding onto the last shred of his dignity.

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue at you sharply, standing over you like a judge sentencing you to death.

You immediately slapped a hand over your mouth, your cheeks puffing out with the effort to hold in your laughter. Oh, you would not survive this. You would not survive this and you knew it.

Turning away dramatically, you hunched your shoulders to further hide your hysterics, feeling your entire body shake with the sheer force of your suppressed snickers.

"You wanted this," Geo growled lowly, an irritated edge undercutting his words. "Look at me."

You shook your head frantically, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from the strain of holding it all in. The little kitten, sensing the rising chaos, skittered off into another room with an indignant chirp, abandoning you to your fate.

Strong hands gripped your shoulders, not rough but firm, trying to turn you back toward him. "Look," he demanded again, exasperated, and your traitorous body gave in with a helpless, shaky breath.

You turned, finally, and instantly collapsed into giggles, your forehead pressing to his hip in a desperate attempt to smother the sound.

Geo huffed above you, and when you dared glance up again, his flush had traveled all the way to his ears, a pretty dusting of pink that stood out against his normally pale complexion. His expression was murderously unimpressed.

Before he could scold you again, you took your moment.

Leaping up with a playful tackle, you pushed him backward. Geo let out a startled grunt as he stumbled, catching himself awkwardly with one knee bent, but you used your weight—and frankly, his momentary stunned brain lag—to push him down fully onto the tatami mats, landing squarely on top of him.

His arms instinctively tried to push you away, grabbing at your wrists; however, you were quicker.

You wriggled your hands free and immediately went for the kill: tugging one floppy bunny ear and cooing dramatically, "Who's the cutest little bunny? Mr. Grumpy Bunny! It's you, Geo! Yes, you are~!"

The noise he made was somewhere between a pained groan and an indignant snarl, eyes squeezing shut like if he didn't see you, you wouldn't exist. "Stop," he gritted out, trying to push your hands away again.

You only laughed harder, dropping your forehead onto his chest briefly to muffle your cackles. His chest rose and fell heavily beneath you, the bunny suit’s material sliding against your clothes, slick and warm.

Before he could mount another defense, you leaned up just enough to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, grinning wickedly.

"Thank you," you whispered, saccharine sweet and deliberately close, your breath fanning across his ear. "You’re the sweetest Grumpy bunny ever."

Geo stiffened underneath you, his entire face exploding into an aggressive, furious red. He jerked his head to the side, refusing to meet your gaze, mumbling curses under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

Before you could gloat too much, he moved fast—pressing his face right into your chest with a strangled noise, his hands locking tightly around your sides.

"Shut up," he muttered, voice muffled and embarrassingly high-pitched, sounding more like a pouty child than the usually icy and unbothered Geo you knew.

You blinked down at him, absolutely flabbergasted... then, seeing an opportunity for even more chaos, you shifted slightly, pressing closer, your hand idly stroking his bunny ear again.

"You know," you said slyly, your voice dripping with mischief, "if you keep holding me like this, I’ll start to think you actually like this silly crap."

Geo’s arms tightened briefly around your waist before he gave you a sharp, warning tug downward—yanking you off balance so your whole body collapsed against his, nose brushing his flushed cheek.

"I don't care," he growled quietly, aquamarine eyes flashing dangerously up at you. His voice was low, raw with some emotion you couldn’t immediately place—somewhere between mortification and... maybe a stubborn, reluctant affection he hadn't figured out how to voice yet.

You let out a low whistle, unable to stop yourself.

"Damn, Mr. Grumpy Bunny’s getting bold now," you teased, tapping your finger against the tip of his red nose playfully.

He groaned again, this time with pure suffering, and thumped his forehead lightly against your shoulder as if hoping he could simply phase out of existence.

At this rate, you were starting to think you might actually kill Geo with secondhand embarrassment.

You’d mourn him properly.

But first... you were absolutely getting a picture.

You felt unstoppable now, grinning like you’d just won a gold medal in teasing, ready to pull out your phone and immortalize this rare, once-in-a-lifetime moment of Geo in his bunny suit.

You were this close to snapping the perfect picture of his mortified face, maybe even showing off the ridiculous bunny ears that made it look like he belonged in a very different kind of scene.

However as you reached for your phone, you felt Geo's body tense underneath you, his grip tightening around your waist. "No."

His voice was quiet but low—dangerously so. You immediately knew something had shifted, his stubbornness turning into full-blown defiance as you tried to reach for your phone again.

Without warning, he moved fast—quicker than you expected—and suddenly, your world flipped. You were pinned to the tatami mats in a breath-stealing instant.

Geo’s body was above you now, a solid weight pressing into your back, his arms locked firmly around your wrists, securing them against your back. His movements were fast, precise, like a well-trained assassin.

"Not... not this time," he muttered darkly, his breath hot against the back of your neck, his body straddling your hips to keep you firmly in place. He was like a weight on top of you, his arms crossed over your hands as he gripped you with surprising strength.

The sensation of being held down, restrained—pinned—only served to make the situation even more charged. Your heart skipped a beat as his presence loomed over you, his soft groan against your skin making it all feel way too intimate.

Geo’s voice was rougher now, almost strained.

“You think you can mess with me like that?” he murmured, the words lost in a strange mixture of embarrassment and something darker you couldn’t quite place.

You could feel his chest pressing into your back, the heat of his body seeping through the bunny suit. The fabric, snug and form-fitting, felt like a whisper against your skin, and you were suddenly hyperaware of every inch of him—his body on top of yours, his breath hot on your neck.

The smile never left your face, even as you shifted beneath him, trying to squirm free. The playful tone you’d maintained before had shifted into something more dangerous, a fire in your stomach that matched the heat of the moment.

"You think you can stop me?" you teased, your voice breathless, barely holding back the excitement in your chest. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for someone in a bunny suit, Geo.”

His grip tightened further, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as he leaned down, his voice now barely a whisper. “Shut up,” he growled.

You couldn’t help it—your body, pressed into the floor, was pulsing with heat, but you couldn’t let up. You twisted your hips to rub against him playfully, laughing when he let out a choked sound, clearly caught off guard.

But before you could escalate it further, Geo did something unexpected—something that made your breath catch in your throat.

In one smooth motion, he shifted his weight, making sure to keep you pinned down, but his face was suddenly right next to yours. You could feel the tension in his body, his breath shallow against your cheek, his soft, furious whisper carrying through the air.

“If you don’t stop this,” he warned, “I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

For a moment, you felt a sudden shift. The teasing energy you’d been enjoying slowly turned into something much more intense, much more loaded with heat and raw emotion.

You were really pinned now—both physically and emotionally.

Then, something clicked. Geo’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he adjusted his position, bringing his body even closer to yours, until you could feel every inch of him against your back. His grip on your wrists slackened, just a little, but his weight remained firmly above you, locking you in place.

His voice was quieter now, a small thread of uncertainty threading through the harshness. “I’m serious,” he muttered. “This is… this is too much for me. I can’t... you’re—”

You shifted, just enough to meet his gaze, your chest still heaving from the struggle. “You’re what? Not enjoying this?” You knew that tone—teasing, poking, drawing out whatever was left of his already rattled composure.

Geo’s flush deepened. It was almost enough to rival the red of the bunny suit. His eyes closed, and his breath quickened, his voice betraying him. “I’m not… I don’t… You make me feel ridiculous,” he admitted softly, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You smirked at the vulnerability in his voice, and despite the intense physicality of the moment, you realized something—a secoud of warmth spread in your chest. His words had an unexpected effect on you.

But before you could tease him further, Geo seemed to sense the opening he’d given you, and he took the opportunity to shift again. His face—barely inches from yours—turned slightly, but this time, he kissed you.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It wasn’t sweet or apologetic. Instead, it was desperate to shut you up, and for once, his urgency made it feel a little less like a game. His lips were pressed hard against yours, his breath mingling with yours as his hands slid from your wrists to grip your shoulders, forcing you to stay still.

The kiss wasn’t long, but, it was enough to stop you.

Geo pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if trying to calm himself.

He closed his eyes, his voice quieter now but still carrying the weight of his emotions. “There. That should stop you. You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

You chuckled softly, savoring the rare moment of intimacy before you responded. “Maybe,” you teased, “but you still kissed me. Guess I’m winning, Bunny Boy.”

Geo made a noise in his throat—part exasperation, part something else entirely. His arms released you, but you didn’t move immediately.

You didn’t need to.

The game had changed. And while he might’ve quieted you in the heat of the moment, there was still that unspoken tension between you two that would be far from settled. You might’ve won this round, but you knew—Geo wouldn’t let you off that easily.

Not by a long shot.

I didn't want to mess with my husband any longer, I felt bad T-T

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Bunny Boy orrrr Chaotic Bunny?

The hotel room smelled faintly of cheap vanilla candles and plastic packaging from the costume bags scattered everywhere, a chaotic battlefield of fabric and makeup brushes.

You were perched on a chair by the little vanity, balancing a handheld mirror in one hand, carefully working on your eyeliner with the precision of a bomb technician.

Your costume was already half on—something dangerously cute and teasing, something that would probably get you mobbed at the con, but that didn’t matter right now. Right now, you were focused on getting the stupid eyeliner wing even. The dull hum of the bathroom fan filled the background, paired with the occasional squeak of shoes slipping against tile.

You were so engrossed in not stabbing your eye out that you almost missed the bathroom door creaking open.

Almost.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—and then you heard it. The sharp click-clack of cheap platform heels strutting across the hotel carpet, like a model on the world’s most cursed runway.

You slowly lowered your mirror, blinked, and there he was.

Hyugo. In all his radiant, chaotic, bunny-suited glory.

He struck a ridiculous pose, one hand on his narrow hip, the other thrown into a peace sign near his face like some sparkly anime idol. His bunny suit was baby blue, hugging his lean, youthful frame a little too perfectly, highlighting his long legs wrapped tightly in black fishnet tights. Matching satin gloves covered his hands up to the elbows, and those platform heels? Oh, he was walking in them, strutting, like he’d been born in stilettos.

His teal hair was a chaotic mess of shaggy layers, the thick rat tail behind him bobbing slightly with every exaggerated move. The thick middle strand of his bangs flopped into his forehead while his long side pieces framed his baby-faced grin, the sparkle in his soft, sky-blue eyes practically weaponized.

You just... stared. Blinking slowly. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“TA-DAAA!” he sang out, twirling dramatically.

He finished the spin with a high kick that he almost nailed—his heel skidding a bit on the carpet—but he recovered with a flourish so fast you wondered if he'd practiced that in secret.

"Hyugo..." you said slowly, voice dangerously neutral, setting the mirror down onto the cluttered vanity. "What... the hell... are you doing?"

"Living my best life," he declared, teeth flashing in a too-wide, shit-eating grin. The baby blue bunny ears attached to his headband flopped a little when he gave a dramatic hair flip, like he was on the cover of a 2007 fashion magazine.

And then—without warning, he strutted over to you.

You backed up an inch in your chair, instinctively wary, sensing his chaotic energy building like a storm front. You didn't even have time to stand before he spun around, back facing you—and plopped himself right down onto your lap. Full weight.

"Lap dance timeeeee~!" Hyugo chirped.

You choked on your own spit.

The little shit started grinding like he was on a pole, wagging his bunny tail-covered ass side to side with such exaggerated, silly movements that you almost cried.

He leaned back, resting his head against your shoulder, batting his stupid, gorgeous baby blue eyes up at you. "You like what you see, babe~?" he teased, voice pitching into a playful, breathy whine.

You spluttered, hands frozen in midair, not sure where the hell to even put them.

On his hips? On his waist? Anywhere?!

There was literally no safe place.

Meanwhile, Hyugo was feeling himself, wiggling his hips with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing—and exactly how much it was breaking you.

You could feel the way the fishnet texture rubbed against your thighs through his movements, could smell the faint sugary cologne he’d spritzed on earlier, could hear the soft, breathy mmms he added for dramatic effect, absolutely laying it on thick.

"You gonna tip me?" he whispered, his voice hot against your ear, grinning like the devil himself. "I take cash, kisses, or compliments~."

You made a small, strangled noise in your throat that sounded vaguely like the death cry of a Victorian maiden. Your face was burning, hotter than a bonfire.

The worst part? He knew it.

You could see it in the tiny, satisfied smirk curling his thin lips. "God, you're—!" you managed to blurt, struggling for words. "You're such a little—!"

"Baby boy?" he offered sweetly, batting his lashes again.

You gripped the edge of the chair so hard your knuckles turned white, breathing heavily through your nose like an angry bull. He was deliberately arching his back now, adding an extra little bounce to his movements, the little rat tail flopping around like a cheerful party favor.

You were going to die.

"You better not do this at the convention," you hissed, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

"Aww, you don't want me giving everyone else a show too~?" Hyugo cooed, nuzzling your cheek with fake innocence. "You're so possessive, cutie."

He had the audacity to boop your nose with his gloved finger before pulling back with a scandalized gasp.

"Unless..." he mused aloud, a wicked little smile playing on his lips, "...you want a private encore later?"

You shoved him off your lap with a growl, but Hyugo just rolled onto the carpet, kicking his legs in the air like an overexcited puppy, laughing so hard tears were forming in the corners of his glittering eyes.

"You’re insane!" you accused.

"And fabulous!" he shot back, striking another ridiculous pose on the ground like a fallen Broadway star.

You buried your burning face in your hands, muttering curses under your breath.

The bunny suit squeaked when Hyugo eventually got up again, heels click-clacking as he walked over to the mirror to admire himself—his little blue bunny tail bouncing with every step. "Admit it," he teased, glancing at you through the mirror. "You loved it."

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

The fact that you were still a blushing, frazzled mess was answer enough.

And Hyugo? He knew he’d won this round.

The smug, victorious grin he shot you was just the cherry on top of your slow, inevitable descent into hell. By the time you both actually made it to the convention, you were already emotionally exhausted.

Mostly from fighting the overwhelming urge to throttle Hyugo in his ridiculous, obscenely cute bunny suit every five minutes.

You should’ve known better than to think he would behave.

You should’ve known.

The crowded halls buzzed with energy—people in elaborate cosplays, music thumping from different booths, the smell of popcorn and cheap hot dogs hanging heavy in the air. It was loud, chaotic, and absolutely not a place where you could hide from Hyugo's brand of public humiliation.

You were just trying to mind your own business, flipping through some artist alley prints, when you felt a familiar click-click-click of heels behind you.

You froze.

"Heeeey, sexy~!" Hyugo’s voice rang out—way too loud.

You turned just in time to see him strutting down the aisle towards you like he was walking a goddamn Victoria's Secret runway.

Heads turned. People stared. Phones came out.

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"Stop. Stop it," you hissed under your breath, waving frantically at him, as if sheer force of will could make him disappear. Hyugo, of course, only sped up, heels tapping the floor in a chaotic rhythm as he leaped the last two feet—and latched onto you. Short, gloved arms wrapping dramatically around your shoulders, bunny ears flopping into your face.

"You left me alooooneee," he whined, giving a fake sob loud enough to turn even more heads.

"I'm literally right here," you muttered, mortified beyond words.

But Hyugo wasn't done. Oh no.

This little menace was just getting started.

He turned to a random group of onlookers, smiling sickeningly sweet.

"Isn’t my partner just the cutest?" he gushed, squeezing your cheeks between his gloved hands like a grandma at Thanksgiving.

The group awwed. Someone even snapped a picture.

You were going to kill him. You were going to murder Hyugo in this convention center and use his rat tail to hide the body. "You’re dead," you whispered to him under your breath, seething.

Hyugo just beamed, not at all intimidated, and whispered back: "Bet you'll miss me when I’m a sexy little ghost haunting your bedroom later~."

You very seriously considered whether jail time would be worth it.

But Hyugo, smug and absolutely thriving on your suffering, linked his arm through yours with a little bounce, dragging you deeper into the con floor.

It only got worse.

Every chance he got, he posed for pictures—always dragging you into them like some chaotic little gremlin. Every time someone complimented his costume, he’d spin dramatically and blow you a kiss. Every time someone pointed at his heels and said "wow, you can actually walk in those??" he'd say, "My partner trained me well~!" with an absolutely filthy wink.

You wanted to crawl under a table and die. But...

When you caught a glimpse of him laughing—really laughing, with that genuine, youthful spark in his sky-blue eyes, his cheeks flushed slightly from excitement—you found yourself smiling in spite of yourself.

Maybe you were doomed. Maybe you were already too far gone. Because even though he was an absolute menace...

Even though he was teasing you to death...

You wouldn't trade this chaotic, bunny-suited, rat-tailed little disaster of a boy for anything in the world. And you knew—even as he blew you another obnoxious kiss from across the convention floor, making you flip him off while your face burned red—that you were utterly, hopelessly, completely stuck with him.

And somehow? You didn’t really mind.

Not even a little. "ACK—Hyugo!" You take it back...

Back at the hotel room, you barely managed to throw your bag onto the floor before you heard the door click shut behind you—and felt a sudden, heavy weight slam into your back. You stumbled forward, hands bracing against the bed, as Hyugo cackled in your ear.

"You promised me a reward," he sang, arms snaking around your waist, his baby blue bunny suit pressing tight against your back.

"I didn't promise shit—"

"I heard 'good bunny boys get treats~'," he interrupted sweetly, nuzzling into your neck like some needy, chaotic little demon.

You twisted around, trying to shove him off—but Hyugo was relentless. With a gleeful grin, he gave your hips a firm shove, sending you sprawling face-first onto the bed.

You groaned. "You’re heavy, you little—"

Before you could finish, Hyugo climbed on top of you, straddling your hips with those dangerously smooth legs, heels kicked off somewhere across the room. The soft mesh of his fishnet tights brushed your lower back as he adjusted his seat like he owned you.

You sucked in a breath.

He was wayyyyyy too comfortable with this.

He smirked down at you, cheeks flushed pink from excitement, messy teal bangs falling into his mischievous baby blue eyes. "You know," he drawled, voice dropping lower as he leaned down, ghosting his lips near your ear, "you could just surrender now..."

You shivered involuntarily. "And miss out on the fun of making you work for it?" you shot back, smirking into the blanket.

Hyugo made a delighted noise, like you had just personally delivered him a five-course meal. "Oh, we're playing dirty now?" He shifted, grinding his hips down in an exaggerated roll that made you jolt.

"H-Hyugo—!"

He laughed, giddy, before straightening up again, proudly sitting on your lower back like some smug little king.

Then, he started to move.

Slow, deliberate little rolls of his hips—giving you a literal lap dance, but in reverse, you still pinned under him, helpless to escape. The absurdity of it should've made you laugh, but the heat creeping up your spine was making it very hard to focus.

"Mm... look at you," he teased, dragging his gloved hands up your sides, over your ribs, the light friction of the gloves making you squirm. "Getting all flustered from a little grinding? And you call yourself tough..."

You reached back blindly, trying to grab him.

Hyugo caught your wrists with ease, pinning them down against the bed, his grip surprisingly strong for someone in a damn bunny costume. He leaned in again, noses almost brushing, his voice low and sweet, and dangerous.

"Beg," he whispered, lips ghosting over your ear.

You bit your lip hard enough to see stars. This little shit was serious.

"Hyugo..." you warned, your voice barely holding steady.

"Beg," he repeated, more smug now, dragging his fingers agonizingly slow up your arms, over your shoulders, down your chest—never quite touching where you wanted.

It was maddening.

You glared up at him over your shoulder, breathing heavily.

"You’re gonna regret this," you growled.

Hyugo’s grin widened into something absolutely feral.

"Worth it~."

And with that, he shifted his weight again, fully settling his hips against yours, giving one long, slow, grinding roll that made your mind blank completely for a second. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stay composed. "Ngh—fuck—Hyugo—"

"Language!" he teased brightly, tapping your nose playfully with one gloved finger.

You couldn't decide if you wanted to kiss him or throw him across the room. Probably both. Definitely both. He loosened his hold just slightly, giving you just enough freedom to flip around beneath him. You caught him by the waist, slamming him down onto the bed with a yelp.

Now you were the one straddling him.

His eyes widened, a little gasp escaping those thin lips—and god, he was so red already, his cheeks burning up to the tips of his ears.

"Who's flustered now, huh?" you smirked, leaning down until your noses brushed.

Hyugo just laughed, breathless, beautiful.

"Still you," he whispered, hands sliding up your thighs, teasing the hem of your costume.

And honestly?

You couldn't even argue.

YESS, I KNOW HOW TO WRITE FOR THIS SWEET BABY BOY, so he's is longer for all the hyugo lovers out there.

✑ 𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓁

Buff Bunny—that can dance like a man.

You honestly weren’t expecting the evening to spiral into madness. The plan was simple—or at least, it should've been. Just you and Deryl, chilling at his place, knocking out the group project that was already eating your sanity alive.

No chaos. No disasters. No getting sidetracked.

You had even come prepared: laptop, notebooks, highlighters, a giant ass coffee.

Fool. You foolish, foolish soul.

Because this was Deryl.

And Deryl plus "normal" was like... lighter fluid plus a bonfire.

You were sprawled out across the living room floor, papers and pens scattered around you in what could only be described as a beautiful mind collapse, lazily scribbling notes while the TV played some random sports rerun in the background. Deryl, ever the energetic host, had promised to grab food while you worked.

"I'll be back in a sec, I swear!" he'd yelled over his shoulder, vanishing into the kitchen like a golden retriever chasing a stick.

You half-listened to the sounds of him clattering around. There was some humming. Some cabinet doors slamming. A loud whoop that rattled the walls. You sighed, underlining your notes for the third time, trying to focus.

Then—"FOOD’S HERE!!" The words echoed through the house like a goddamn battle cry.

You perked up immediately, like Pavlov's dog.

Food. Real food. Greasy, heavenly food from your shared favorite burger spot—the only thing you were living for at this point.

You pushed yourself up with a groan, knees cracking, and padded toward the kitchen. "Better be my double cheeseburger, Deryl," you called, rounding the corner—

—and immediately lost all ability to form coherent thought. Because standing there, bright as a goddamn traffic cone, was Deryl. In a bright orange bunny suit.

Deryl. In a BRIGHT ORANGE BUNNY SUIT.

Bright. Orange. Bunny suit.

Not just a hoodie with ears, no — the full-body furry monstrosity, complete with a little cotton tail bouncing when he moves. Matching floppy ears bobbing on his head. Furiously orange polyester clinging to every inch of that massive, buff-as-fuck body—hairy legs and muscular thighs on full display beneath the ridiculous shorts.

Both hands were proudly perched on his hips, like he was posing for a magazine spread titled "DISASTERS MONTHLY."

And to top it all off—

The biggest, brightest, shit-eating grin you had ever seen split his face from ear to ear, green eyes glittering with mischief, tears of laughter already brimming at the corners. He had a burger in one hand, a stupidly wide grin on his face, and you—

—You stood there. Frozen. Absolutely brain-melted.

Not a single logical thought survived the apocalypse happening inside your head. You blinked once. Twice. The bunny ears flopped. "...what," you croaked out, your voice cracking like a dying engine.

Deryl’s laughter exploded, loud and contagious, as he leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, trying and failing to catch his breath.

"Y-you—the look—ON YOUR FACE—!!" He doubled over, wheezing like he'd run a marathon, one hand slapping the counter for balance.

You just stared.

You stared at the fluffy white tail attached to his ass.

You stared at the fact that his thighs looked like they could crush a watermelon. You stared at the unholy union of pure chaos and sex appeal standing proudly before you, like this was the most normal Saturday activity.

Finally, after a solid thirty seconds of internal screaming, you managed to force oxygen back into your lungs. "Deryl..." you started slowly, voice deadpan. "...did you answer the door like that?"

He gasped between bouts of laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. "Hell yeah, I did!!"

Another uncontrollable fit of cackling.

You dragged a hand down your face, reeling. "The delivery guy—"

"Bro fistbumped me!" he interrupted proudly. "Said I had 'mad drip.'" He mimed the fistbump like it was some sacred ritual, bunny ears flopping with every exaggerated motion.

You were going to die. Right here.

Buried under the weight of this absurdity.

"Why—" you tried again, your voice halfway between a sob and a laugh, "would you even—when—where did you even GET that—?!"

Deryl straightened up, looking offended at your lack of appreciation.

"Preparedness," he said solemnly, puffing his chest out. "You never know when life’s gonna call for drip." He struck a dramatic pose, flexing one bicep with the bunny paw glove on.

You physically staggered backward, clutching the doorframe.

He looked so goddamn ridiculous. So stupidly hot. So perfect. You covered your mouth to stifle the completely unhinged giggles bubbling up from your chest.

Deryl noticed immediately.

"OHHHH YOU THINK IT’S FUNNY NOW, HUH?!" He charged at you, arms outstretched like a wild animal.

"Deryl—Deryl don't you fucking DARE—" You tried to retreat but there was no escape. He grabbed you in a massive bear hug, lifting you clear off the ground like you weighed nothing, the absurdly soft fur of the bunny suit brushing against your skin. You shrieked, kicking your feet helplessly as he spun you around the kitchen.

"WHO'S LAUGHIN’ NOW, HUH?!" His laugh was pure evil joy, bright and golden and impossibly loud.

You pounded weakly on his shoulder, half-dying from laughter yourself. "PUT ME DOWN YOU GIANT LUNATIC!!"

"No can do!!" he sang, bunny ears bouncing. "Buff Bunny rights!!"

By the time he finally set you down, you were both breathless, faces flushed, grins splitting your cheeks.

You stumbled back, barely keeping your balance.

He held you steady, hands massive and warm on your arms, that damn playful smirk still on his lips. You looked up at him, chest heaving, trying to find some shred of dignity.

Deryl just winked, tilting his head so the bunny ears flopped cutely to one side. "So..." he said, voice low and teasing, "what's the verdict?"

You swallowed thickly, the sheer ridiculousness and ridiculous hotness of it all frying every neuron in your brain.

"...You're never taking that off, are you?"

He grinned, impossibly wide. "Only if you say please," he purred.

You opened your mouth to respond—and immediately shut it again, defeated, face burning so hard it might've caught fire. You turned sharply on your heel and stomped back toward the living room, muttering curses under your breath.

Behind you, Deryl burst into another fit of hysterical laughter.

"HEY!" he called after you, voice full of teasing sunshine. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DIDN'T LIKE THE VIEW!!"

You flipped him off without turning around, biting your lip to hold back the giddy laugh threatening to spill out. Because... damn it. He was right. Before you can escape fully, you hear Deryl lunging for you. "AHT— NO—" you shriek, trying to dodge, but he's faster—because of course he is, the bastard.

Big hands clamp around your waist, lifting you clean off the floor like you weighed nothing.

"DERYL! Please, not again.” You beat your fists against his shoulders, but he only laughs — that big, rumbly, dangerous laugh — and deposits you right onto the kitchen counter like you were some kind of misbehaving cat. He moves in close, trapping you there, his arms caging you in as his thick thighs press against your legs.

You glare at him.

He grins wider, leaning his face dangerously close to yours.

"You look sooo cute when you're mad," he coos mockingly, poking your cheek.

"Let me go! I'm hungry!" you snap, trying to shove at his chest, but it's like trying to push a wall. A big, hot, stubborn wall.

"Man," Deryl says, tilting his head thoughtfully, the teasing note in his voice dropping an octave lower, making your skin prickle. "I'm so hungry... I could eat you."

Your breath catches.

He’s still smiling, but there’s a flicker in his eyes now—something sharp, focused. Something that makes your stomach flip upside down. His hands flex on the counter, muscles shifting under his skin.

You meet his eyes fully—and realize—

He’s not entirely joking.

You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way he’s crowding you, not even bothering to hide the way he’s looking at you now. Not just playful, but heavy, molten—like he's seriously considering it.

Your mouth goes dry.

A shiver dances down your spine, and you suddenly forget what air is.

Deryl laughs, low and wicked, close enough that you can feel his breath ghost over your lips. He leans in even closer, until your noses almost brush. "You gonna let me?" he murmurs, voice like a slow burn against your skin.

You swallow. Hard.

For a second, all you can do is stare at him—at the wild curls spilling messily under the bunny ears, the way his stubble roughens his jaw, the sharp green of his eyes glowing like mischief and hunger tangled together.

You should say something. You should shove him away.

Instead, you just breathe, heart hammering, caught — pinned between his arms, his thighs, and his devastating grin. And Deryl? He knows it. Oh, he knows it. He taps your nose with one finger, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "What’s the matter, little bunny? Cat got your tongue?"

You almost punched him. Almost.

But when he leans back with a victorious laugh, grabbing your burger from the counter and offering it to you with a wink, you take it from his hands with a shaky glare, ears burning, knowing full well he won this round.

The worst part?

You kinda didn’t mind losing to him.

now writing him, I was a little lost because I don't recall much of his personality, but I tried—not sure if i'll be writing him as sadly no one talks about him...

578 notes · View notes

3amfanfiction · 5 months ago

Note

hi hi three! i hab an idea for you :3

imagine ur dog runs away and you winds up in the hands of johnny. thankfully the little (shit) baby has a collar with your name and digits so johnny gives you a call and immediately becomes obsessed from the sound of your voice. when you come over to pick up your dog with cash in your hand, he declines. instead of cash he would like your underwear (or whatever payment you see fit that is freaky and weird because he is freaky and weird)

I took my sweet time answering this but thank you sm for the prompt, red! It's a short little thing but I hope you enjoy it <33

~~~~

He just slipped out the door. YOUR DOG JUST SLIPPED OUT THE FUCKING DOOR.

You were spun and running before the thought finished processing, chasing after the fluffy tail that was quickly disappearing into the dark.

"Peep!" you shouted, frantic at the thought of him getting lost. You quickly broke out in a sweat in the muggy summer air as you chased after him, each step putting distance between the two of you no matter how hard you fought against it.

"Peep," you called once more as his little paws disappeared, making the most of his bid for freedom as he left you in the dust and scurried away.

"Shit," you cursed, stumbling over an uneven piece of sidewalk, your gaze dropping as you staggered trying not to fall. You picked back up and continued in the last direction you saw him but it was too late. He had successfully eluded capture and was lost in the evening darkness.

You stumbled to a stop, hands on your knees as you fought for air, peering through the gloom to try and find him.

It was a discouraging hour later that you trod back home, exhausted and filthy with no dog in sight.

—

The next day was stressful. You popped out every chance you got to look for Peep but to no avail. You were just settling into the evening when you got the call. A guy by the name of Soap had your baby.

Unique name choices aside, you knew it had been worth it to put your number on the back of Peep's tag. That someone would find your baby wandering and bring him in. He was too much of a sweetheart for people to ignore him for long.

You rushed out of the house headed towards the address the guy rattled off. Not too terribly far from where you were, thankfully. You were glad Peep hadn't kept on running. He could've ended up in the next town over.

The nondescript house you walked up to wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It looked kept up with the other houses in the neighborhood and the yard was free of detritus. The only thing of note was paint supplies set up on the porch, placed on top of a tarp to protect the wood.

Walking up the stairs you fought to catch your breath. You'd made quick time of getting over here and now your lungs were trying to catch up. You paused for a moment, hands on your hips, only for the door to open without prompting. He'd clearly been watching, waiting for you.

The man who opened the door was striking. A shaggy, grown-out mohawk met with the stubbly beard on his face, the whole set-up making him look wild and unkempt. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness as if lit with some inner light that shined through them, causing an almost manic appearance.

And he was big. Taller than you with biceps that looked like they could crush a watermelon.

Still, you offered up your brightest smile. "I heard you found my dog, Peep?"

He smiled at you like he'd won the lottery. "Aye, hen, that I did. Wee little pup came right up to me when I was bringing in supplies. Awful loveable, isn't he?"

"He is," you agreed, always happy to talk about Peep, "He's never met a person he didn't like. If you stand still long enough he'll be pressed right up against your calf." You smiled warmly his way, not catching the way his face lit up at the expression, "I can't thank you enough for finding him. I'll take him off your hands and I'll definitely be keeping better track whenever the door is open."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out cash for a reward when he interrupted you. Times were tight so it was a sore hit to be losing the money but Peep was worth more than a few missed dinners the next couple of weeks. You'd make do, you always did.

"Nae, bonnie, I dinnae want your money. But there is something else I would take as a reward."

You frowned but put the money back in your pocket, trying not to look this gift horse in the mouth. "What would you like?"

"I'll take that pair of panties you're wearing right now."

Your spine stiffened in shock. Your underwear? He wanted your underwear. What was he, some kind of pervert? You frowned at him, unsure if he was pulling some crude joke.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Nae, honest as the day is long. Your underthings for your pup, simple trade."

You thought about kicking up a fuss, yelling and telling him he was a pig for even asking. But then you thought of the alternative. He still had your dog and you were short on cash.

It wasn't the worst thing you could do. People sold their underwear all the time. It was a thriving business. Just never one you thought you'd find yourself in. Were you seriously going to do this? Give some pervert your panties to get your dog back?

Well, when you put it like that.

You bit your lip in discomfort as you bent down. You were thankful you were still in your skirt from the day, reaching up under it while keeping everything hidden and easing the fabric down from around your hips. By the time they were off, you were blinking back the flood of embarrassed tears.

It was just a plain cotton pair but from the way Soap's eyes lit up you'd think it was fancy lingerie you'd just pulled off. Something with lace and bows and too many ribbons.

He held his hand out eagerly but you pulled them back, clutched tightly to your chest. "Peep?" you warbled.

"Ah, right. Just a mo'—" before he disappeared inside, leaving the door propped open in invitation if you were bold enough to take it.

You weren't and were quite happy to stay out on the porch.

He was back in no time with Peep firmly leashed and held by his big hand. Peep started dancing as soon as he saw you, eager to say hi after being away all night and all day.

"Baby!" you started forward only for Soap to throw out a hand expectantly. With a nervous swallow you dropped the panties in his hand as you sunk to greet Peep. "I've missed you, you can't go running out the door like that, sweetheart," you chastised.

Standing up you thanked Soap again only to see him quickly pulling the panties away from his face. You ignored it and thanked him for finding Peep and moved to take the leash.

"One more thing."

You froze, your fingers not quite grasping the leash. One more thing? He already had your underwear and your dignity, what more could he possibly want?

He shoved the underwear in a pocked and held out his newly freed hand, palm up and open, cupped as if to receive a blessing. "Want you to spit."

"Excuse me?" you stuttered, taken aback by the request. You thought he couldn't get any weirder but you were obviously wrong. Spit? For what purpose?

"You heard me. Spit and I'll let you take sweet Peep back."

You fought with yourself. You couldn't spit in his hand, could you? Although, it wouldn't hurt you any to do it, it would just be awkward. This whole meeting had already been awkward enough, what was a little more.

With trepidation you leaned over his hand and sucked your cheeks, working up a glob to deposit in his hand. You pulled back with a grimace, wiping you lips as you backed away, tugging Peep from his hand at the same time.

You watched the way he was looked at his cupped palm as if it was the holy grail.

"Now get out of here. I've got plans for this and I don't want it drying. Unless, of course," he turned a lascivious smile your way, "You'd be interested in coming inside?"

Absolutely not. You'd hit your limit of strange for the night. Saying your goodbyes you edged off the porch, eager to be back in the safety of your own home. Away from this sleazy heel of a man.

But now he had your name, phone number, and what you looked like. You'd be seeing him again whether you wanted to or not.

#johnny is such a creep and we love him #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #blurb

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vitrunyx · 1 month ago

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HIDE AND SEEK

› cw:: not proof read. nsfw, fem!reader, being hunted down/fear, public s*x, oral (m!receiving), vaginal s*x, blood + death, anxiety, threesome, choking, pet names, no protection, overstimulation, drug use (they’re high), size k!nk, squirting.

› a/n:: my first post!! this basically takes place during the hide and seek game in season 3 of squid game, if thanos were to survive season two. enjoy :3

your heart practically thumped from your chest as you stared down at the key placed articulately in two fingers, as your hand shook terrible from the anxiety rising in your chest and belly. your throat was dry as you swallowed hard, a lump forming in it as you heard a nose follow behind you.

instinctively, you flipped your whole body around to look, gasping and bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to fall from your lids… but it was another blue member. who grabbed their chest in delight that it was another blue team.

“oh, goodness!” the black haired woman spoke, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “you scared me half to death! here, we should—“ a loud crunching noise sounded from her back as her face grew a blank expression, then tears rolling from her hollow eyes.

her body lumped onto yours as you then threw it to the side in disgust and shock, your eyes then staring up to meet with a face. a smirk, pulling at his lips (which is what you happened to stare at first), then- a sadistic stare in his eyes.

an excited scream left someone’s lips before you realized it was number 230.. thanos, was his name. you couldn’t ever forget that name. but the scream? that was nam-gyu, the man right behind the purple haired one.

he grabbed thanos’s shoulders with a laugh, clearly not seeing you until he noticed 230’s fixated stare. “oh, shit. it’s her.” he bit his lip as he looked at you, almost… intrigued.

frozen in your steps, your legs trembled as your stomach dropped. then, a hand to your throat that you were unable to dodge, from thanos.

a breath choked in your throat as his fingers clutched your jugular, not tight enough to cut off your airways, but more of a warning. nam-gyu couldn’t get enough of it, taking his knife and joining in by grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt and shirt, revealing your stomach.

you jolted, feeling the blade of a knife drag across your stomach threateningly. “pretty skin, dollface. what if i..?” nam-gyu slightly dug the tip of it in your skin, making you yelp. “shh- sh sh-! the red team will hear you,” thanos warned, having too much fun with his best friend.

they both let you go. falling to your knees, you grabbed your throat and began to gag and cough harshly. there was a door to your left that thanos looked at, crouching down to grab the key from your neck and ripped it off before using it on the door.

nam-gyu grabbed you by the back of your shirt and threw you in, before thanos shut the door behind the three of them. you landed on your stomach and face, hard. you sat up so fast to your knees, spinning around to face them. “pl- please! no, i- i don’t wanna die! i-“ you choked and cried, begging with your hands clutched together, “i’ll do anything! anything-!”

that’s when it went quiet, and the two looked at each other proudly. before nam-gyu crouched down behind you, soon kneeling as he guided you to sit on your butt. “wh-“ you began to speak, but nam-gyu covered your mouth with his large hand, and that’s when you couldn’t help but began to feel something knot between your legs.

thanks crouched down to you, his hands guiding from your waist up to your chest. “anything?” thanos questioned, making nam-gyu giggle softly. “she looks just like a baby fawn, ready to be eaten alive by two wolves.” the black haired male whispered gently in your ear, making you squirm and grunt under his grasp.

nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. “and your smell… it’s..” he huffed your hair into his nose, closing his eyes before huffing out. “that fear, it’s so damn sexy.”

god, you felt pathetic when you began to find yourself aroused by these two men playing around with your fear. why were they suddenly doing this? you were nothing but a cowardly dork, who was currently terrified of what would come next, but also… so enticed.

thanos reached his hands forward, both runninf through your locks of hair, twirling them around his tattooed fingers. nam-gyu on the other hand let his fingers (that were wrapped around you) begin to travel, lower.. lower…… until they were at the hem of your track suit pants. you breathed heavy under the palm of his hand, gasping and squirming as his grip on you was so strong.

the purple haired male then grabbed your wrists and held them down to the ground, sitting on your outstretched legs as nam-gyu pulled your pants slightly down to reveal your underwear. “pff.. cute, she wears that?” thanos judged the pair you wore, and nam-gyu couldn’t help but laugh as he toyed with them hem of your panties.

his callused fingers then slipped in, sliding down your stubbly skin and in-between your labia, rubbing circles around your clit. your head immediately flew back onto his shoulder. “fuck.. thanos! she’s soaked!” he teased, circling his middle finger around your hole. “i think she might be ready for us soon… soon.” he teased as thanos smirked as he watched in entertainment.

his finger then slipped in, gently and carefully. he knew exactly what he was doing, and began to curl his finger inside you as he pumped in and out, deep enough to reach his third knuckle. “oh, baby.. you probably sound so good.” he mocked, considering his hand was cupping your mouth so hard, they could hear nothing.

you were drooling on his palm as he entered a second finger, watching as thanos began to slip both your pants and underwear off to your ankles, not completely taking it off.

he then palmed the center of his pants before pulling them and his boxers down. your eyes widened when you saw his cock bounce up from his clothes, and his was hard.. and huge. his was thick and his tip was already leaking just seeing you like this. “damn, look how riled up you got me, y/n.” he mentioned, somehow knowing your name. “nam-gyu, take your shit off.”

nam-gyu smiled as he dropped you and took his fingers out, you gasped so loud and fell onto the floor behind you, watching as nam-gyu began to undress himself and switch places with thanos. you were weak, helpless.

nam-gyu lifted your legs up to bend at your belly, revealing your bottom and your soaking pussy. “fuuck.. i need to fuck you.. now.” nam-gyu mentioned, scooting closer as he lined himself up with you, and when you looked down? holy shit. nam-gyu’s cock with just as big, if not bigger. he was holding it with his hand as he lined himself up with your hole, that wouldn’t fit! there’s no way!

“w-wait-!” you started, before he slammed his dick inside of you. you went to scream, before thanos shoved his dick in your open mouth—turning your head to the side to face him first. you choked on the length and gasped as the girth inside of you.

“holy fuck.” thanos and nam-gyu echoed from each other, your mouth was hot and wet on thanos’s dick, while your vagina engulfed nam-gyu.

the raven haired male began to thrust, and it wasn’t slow. he was fast and ragged, slapping skin could be heard and you mouth so loud against thanos, who also began to thrust down your throat.

you tasted skin, and felt so much inside of your stomach, feeling nam-gyu hit every curve inside of your walls. you murmured loud moans against thanos’s shaft and tip, feeling him against the back of your throat as your body had been overstimulated with waves of pleasure and enjoyment.

“she’s so fucking tight, thanos.” nam-gyu grabbed your thighs tightly as he pounded into you, his hand sliding down and groping an amount of your ass into his hand. his movements were precise, and well timed, his tip hitting your g-spot over and over. you’ve never felt this way, never felt so overwhelmed with two men fucking your lights out like this. you’ve only had sex with one other man, a sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend.

thanos grabbed your jaw as he stroked himself with your mouth, but you stopped him by placing a hand on his stomach, using your head to make rhythmic movements across his cock- bobbing your head and swirling your tongue around him. “oh, yeah. that’s the fucking stuff.” thanos grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged to look at you.

you were a mess to say the least.

you had tears running down your face, slobber around your lips, hands and legs shaking. but the boys seemed to adore it, love it, and even want more of it.

“you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. such a damn whore too. didn’t even fight this shit.” nam-gyu said, trying to hide his moans of pleasure as he handled your pussy with intense care from his cock.. but his movements began to grow sloppy.

you popped your lips off of thanos’s cock and looked up at nam-gyu, “mo-more! please, pleaseplease-!” your begging made nam-gyu focus again, and suddenly he was pushing your knees to your chest and fucking you insanely hard and fast. you began to growl out moans as thanos cupped your mouth, “that’s why we have to shut you up, princess.” thanos reminded, pulling his dick back near your mouth.

“wa-wait! i’m gon-gonna!” you felt a huge knot arise, your pussy throbbing with pure pleasure as nam-gyu smiled proudly hearing your pleas. thanos forced his way back into your mouth as soon as nam-gyu pulled out and watched you squirt, to which he soon bent down and licked up the remains that were dripping.

you moaned so loudly and sloppily against thanos’s cock, which was pounding in you. “i’m not done yet,” your eyes then turned to nam-gyu, who slipped back inside of you, making you scream with an overwhelming amount of pleasure, almost too much.

but it was quicker than you thought, as he pounded fast and sloppy inside of you while you sucked off thanos just as messily, your spit dribbling off of his cock and on the floor.

soon enough, you felt a spurt of juices pouring into your gut, as well as down your throat.. before both men exited you. you gasped heavily as cum slipped from your hole and your mouth, sliding down your throat as you soon spat it on the ground. “bitch,” thanos teased as you watched him slip his dick back inside of his pants, while nam-gyu carefully slid your clothes back on too.

nobody is gonna believe this, are they?

#thanos #nam gyu #thangyu #x reader #my fic #squid game #fem reader

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ariestrxsh · 11 months ago

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sub!bsf!matt x dom!bsf!reader

💌 content warning: smut, caught masturbating, light humiliation, mommy kink, teasing, edging, risky, innocence corruption, handjob, oral (m!receiving), praise/degradation, punishment, exhibitionism

💌 summary: you notice matt doing a very naughty thing under the covers in his sleep

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask and this ask 💌

dividers by the one and only @vxnitra 💌

shhh

"Wh-what are y-you doing?" Matt stuttered, his breath caught in his throat as he grabbed your wrist, staring at you like a deer in the headlights while your hand hovered over his cock.

***a few minutes earlier***

It was a warm July night, and you were having a sleepover with your best friend Matt. The two of you were sprawled out on the living room floor with a ton of blankets and pillows while you ate popcorn and candy. The movie I Know What You Did Last Summer played softly on the television while Matt had started to drift off next to you.

You admired how cute he was, and when you looked a little more closely at him, you noticed his hand pumping back and forth under the blanket while he made a few adorable noises. You grew wet at the realization of what he was doing.

Was he doing it on purpose? Was he pretending to fall asleep and stroking himself next to you so you'd feel tempted by him? You were about to place your hand on his, offer him some assistance, but his eyes shot open, and he met you with a surprised expression.

"I-I was gonna see if you wanted help," you blushed, shrugging your shoulder and staring lustfully at the innocent boy beside you. You knew Matt was a virgin, and even though you thought it was kind of sweet how he was waiting for the right girl, you couldn't help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and watch him furrow his brow while he begged you to let him cum..

"Oh no, I'm so embarrassed," Matt muttered, hiding his face behind the blanket when he realized what he'd been doing in his sleep. You found his shy nature incredibly endearing. "Don't be, Matt. I thought it was kind of hot," you giggled, nibbling on your lip and pulling back the blanket so you could see his big, beautiful, blue eyes.

"Why?" He scrunched his nose and gave you a confused look. "It's just really hot to know that you masturbate. You're kind of naughty, huh? Not so innocent after all," You teased him while the slasher on the TV served as background noise and provided a dim light for you and Matt to be able to make out each other features in the mostly dark room. Matt's face was red in humiliation, and he avoided looking into your eyes although your stare bore through him.

"I want to help you get off," you whispered, biting your lip while dirty thoughts raced through your mind. Matt finally made eye contact with you. "Why would you want to do that?" He inquired, still not picking up on your sexual desire for him.

"Because I want to see just how naughty you are. I want to stroke it, put my mouth on it, and watch you squirm and try to hold it together while we see how long you can hold out," you giggled, letting your fantasies be known while you tickled his chest with your fingertips through his shirt.

You'd never been this forward with Matt, but you felt like you had to be. You wanted him more than anything, and anytime you subtly flirted with him, he was too naive to pick up on.

"Are you playing a prank on me?" He asked while he narrowed his gaze at you, and it made you sad that he thought you'd do something so cruel. "No, Matty. I mean it. I've wanted to go down on you for a long time. Will you let me?" You cooed, still running your fingers across his body.

"Please," he said just above a whisper, his cock twitching at your proposition. He was lying on his back looking up at you while you were on his right, laying on your side, propping your head up with your hand and your elbow on the pillow beneath you.

You leaned down and captured his lips into a deep kiss. Matt's palms grew sweaty, and his cheeks started burning as your tongue asked for entry into his mouth, and he allowed you in. You hummed against his lip before gently biting down and pulling away. Matt loved the sensation you left with him, giddy and intoxicated by your intimate gesture.

He opened his eyes and looked at you after you retreated from the kiss. "Wow," he whispered, "You're good at that."

You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it back, and you gently tugged on it. He let out a soft whimper while he gave you a desperate look. "Good boy. You like that?" You raised a brow at his reaction and grinned seductively at him. You had him in the palm of your hand. He timidly nodded.

Matt had always secretly wanted you to dominate him, but he was too shy to ask. While he was embarrassed about you catching him, he was also grateful that it had opened the door to a possible sexual encounter with you. Plus, a secret part of him liked being caught by you.

"Are you gonna be a good boy and let me play with you?" You wondered aloud. "Yes," he whined, thinking about what you were gonna do to him. "Say, yes, mommy," you sneered, dying to hear the words leave his lips. "Yes, mommy," he muttered under his breath.

"You don't sound like you really want it," you taunted him. "My brothers are upstairs. I can't be too loud," Matt whispered, embarrassed and smiling at you. "I don't care if you don't care," you said, shrugging and getting turned on by the idea of getting caught making Matt cum.

"Beg for it. You don't have to be loud, but make me believe you actually want it," you grinned deviously at him while you slipped your hand under his shirt, grazing his tummy with your fingertips. "Yes, mommy. Please, mommy," his voice came through as a whimper, needily and lustfully.

"Good boy. Keep begging, sweetheart. Tell me what you want," you responded, tugging at the hem of his shirt, helping him take it off until he was in nothing but his underwear. "I want you to suck me off, mommy. Please," he whispered eagerly. His begging was like music to your ears, and you rewarded him by gently palming him through his boxers. He was fully hard, biting his lip to hold back a satisfied noise.

You pulled him into another kiss, and he softly purred against your mouth while you teased him over his clothing. You knew that no one else had ever touched him there before, and you wanted to show him how good it could feel. You slowly taunted him through the fabric, running your nails gently over his length. You could feel his needy cock twitch under the control of your touch.

"Mommy, please stop teasing," he begged you, precum dripping from his tip already. "Be patient, Matty," you responded. You leaned over and started to suck on his neck while you tantalized the desperate boy beneath you. His flesh was a bit salty, and you felt how soft it was as you bit down into it.

Matt let out a loud whimper that immediately embarrassed him, worried that Nick or Chris would hear him submitting to you. "Hard to stay quiet, huh? I take that as a compliment," you shot him a smug look, "but you better not draw any attention to us or you'll regret it."

You heard footsteps descending the stairs, and you quickly took your attention off Matt, rolling over onto your stomach and redirecting it towards the movie. Matt pulled the comforter over his shirtless torso and tried to hide his raging erection. Chris appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

"Hey, you guys doing alright? I thought I heard someone yelp or something," he stated. "Yeah, we're fine. Matt just got spooked by the movie," you chuckled at him and his inability to keep quiet. Chris scoffed and made his to the kitchen to grab a snack.

"Stay quiet or I'll punish you," you said in a voice just above a whisper as you reached down the front of Matt's underwear and made direct contact with his cock. You gently stroked him, rewarding a few stifled whimpers from him while he tried his hardest to keep it down. "Chris is gonna walk back through here any minute," Matt whispered, looking at you wide-eyed, surprised by your risky behavior.

"I know. Makes it even hotter, hmm?" You cooed back in a hushed voice, studying Matt's reactions while you started to focus your attention to the head, running your thumb around it in circles. "Shhh," you hushed him, knowing he was about to blow your secret. Matt bit down on the back of his hand to suppress another whine, and you heard his breathing quicken and become more shallow. "So needy," you smiled at him.

Chris walked through the door connecting the kitchen to the living room while you had Matt's member in your grasp, and he trotted up the stairs without giving you and Matt an ounce of his attention. Matt let out a relieved sigh next to you. He was so cute when he was nervous about getting caught.

Without warning, you dove under the comforter that covered Matt's bottom half, and you tugged onto the waistband of his boxers with your teeth and maneuvered them off. You planted kisses on his tummy, trailing down to his hip bones while you reached up to caress his chest.

Matt curiously peeked under the bedding to find your eyes flickering up at him. His expression was silently begging you to move your mouth down further, but you wanted to hear it. "Say it, Matty. Say what you're thinking," you encouraged him. "Please. Lower," he pathetically whimpered, his face flushed.

"Want me to put my mouth right here?" You asked, grabbing ahold of his dick again and teasing the tip. "Mhmm," he purred in response to your touch and your seductive words. You continued to look up at him while you lowered your mouth onto his sensitive spot, engulfing him in your lips and slowly suckling on it.

"Mommy," Matt gasped while his eyes rolled back. You slowly descended his shaft, taking in more of him, working your soft mouth against all the ridges and veins. He delighted in the subtle sound your mouth made while you bobbed up and down on his length.

He let out a few uncontrolled moans at a higher volume than he meant to, and he quickly threw both his hands over his mouth and looked down at you wide-eyed.

"Naughty boy. It looks like I'm gonna have to punish you since you can't be quiet," you replied, clicking your tongue and shaking your head. "I'm sorry, mommy. I'll be good," he whispered desperately. But you knew it was too late, and Matt had just earned himself a heavy edging session. "Shhh," you said placing a finger in front of his lips.

You placed your lips back over the head, and you started to make circles with your tongue while you gently sucked on him. You took more of him into your mouth again, and you used your hand to stroke the rest of his length. You used every trick in the book to stimulate his cock until he was writhing beneath you about to make a mess in your mouth, but you abruptly halted.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, peering down at you, his chest rising and falling with his labored breathing. "Because you were naughty, and you couldn't keep it down," you winked at him, going back to slowly teasing him. "Please let me cum, mommy. I'll be a good boy," he quietly begged.

You started the process over again, taking him into your mouth, this time, as far back as you could go, gagging on it a bit. Matt's hands meandered to your hair while he held it out of the way and ran his fingers through it so he could look into your eyes. You loved that he wanted to watch you. You brought him to the edge again, taunting him, giving him a little taste of sweet release, and then pulling away once more.

"P-please stop t-teasing," Matt pleaded with you, growing needier by the second. "Not unless you can be a good boy and keep the volume down," you cooed, grinning at his desperation. "I'll be good, m-mommy. I'll be quiet. P-promise," he whispered, lifting his hips and trying to coax the tip back into your mouth.

You obliged, sinking your lips back down around him, sucking, kissing, licking, and stroking him, slowly at first and then with incredible speed and passion. You watched as he neared his climax once more, and then you took it away again. He pitifully squirmed under you, sounding like he was about to sob.

"I can't take it anymore. I need to cum, mommy. Please. I need it," he cried. The sound of his begging was immaculate. You soothed his impatience by wrapping your wet, plump lips around him again. His precum leaked onto your tongue while you sloppily continued to give Matt head.

You reached down and gently cupped his balls, gently tugging on them while he got close, finally giving him permission to cum. You felt his cock tighten and pulsate while he filled your mouth with his delicious seed.

You looked up at his face contorted in pleasure, failing to keep any ounce of composure while he got off to the touch of a woman for the first time. He let out a few loud, pathetic whines while his orgasm enveloped him.

After you swallowed, you looked up at him. "That wasn't very quiet of you, naughty boy," you chuckled at him. He peered down at you with his big, blue eyes and a satisfied and shocked expression, unsure as to whether he was dreaming or not. "I'm sorry, mommy. I couldn't help it. You treat my cock so good," he said in a voice just barely above a whisper.

You heard another pair of footsteps begin to shuffle down the stairs, and you and Matt shifted about in the blankets that covered you, and you both shifted your gazes back to the movie.

"Maybe you're not cut out for horror films, Matt. You sound like a crying little girl," Chris rolled his eyes, making his way into the kitchen again for a glass of water.

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ' ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙

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whhomecooked · 1 month ago

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Julie Is Disabled:

A Partially Coherent Yap Session & Welcome Home

Theory

MANY SPOILERS- SPOILERS ON SPOILERS- I mention just about every single inch of the Spring Update

[Pretty Much Just A Deep Dive of Julie in the context of the Spring Update]

Content Warnings: Ableism [Social and Internalized], Complex/Unhealthy Family Dynamics[Brief]

This has been sitting in my drafts since I started this sideblog LOL I have 4 pages of a Google Doc + Screenshots to prove my point <3 Settle in, Neighbor

Thesis

Julie has a disability and/or a birth defect, that influences her ability to do her job as a Rainbow Monster, either hindering it or rendering her unable to do her job at all. This also influences her perception of self, and the version of herself that she puts forth to cope with her aforementioned disability.

I've separated my points for your viewing pleasure, Neighbor @:]

For the purposes of this theory I am also of the belief that the Marlo Flower is a Winter Flower, as some theories suggest based on its nature and coloration.

Theory

Her Differences As a Rainbow Monster

Julie is very different from what we know about Rainbow Monsters. Visually, she differs from her siblings greatly. However, from what we know about Rainbow Monsters in general, there's some other criteria she doesn't quite meet.

Horns

In What Makes The Flowers Bloom, The Joyfuls tell us about Rainbow Monster Horns.

Rainbow Monsters have special horns that grow in sunshine and shed when it's cold. Rainbow monster Horns come in all different shapes and colors, but the bigger the better obviously.

Sharp cut to Julie's horns, which aren't just short, they're stunted.

Im aware that there is also concept art featuring Julie with horns of two different sizes. While I'm aware it is not canon, it does imply that there is some aspect of her character that has been fundamentally off-beat[pun intended] from the standard Rainbow Monster since her creation. It just presents differently than it did then.

We can look at Bea's horns in comparison, as she not only has the shortest horns of the three, but we also see the base of her horns.

Julie's horns are also shaped differently due to their size. At least with Franny and Bea, [though we don't see the base of Jonesy's horns im sure its the same case] they flare out in the middle and get smaller at the base, whereas Julie's get even wider at their base.

If she were to have some sort of birth defect/disability/etc, it would make sense that we would see physical aspects of this, as we do in the real world.

Though, yes, they are her actual horns, and not fake horns, as we see.

Color

Also in What Makes The Flowers Bloom, Jonesy [I love that little pothead<3] talks about how Rainbow monsters can come in any color, but all rainbow monsters are one color.

"Rainbow monsters come in all hues toos! From our heads to our roots, from our leaves to our nose! We stick to one color, so that together we're totally kaleidoscopic!"

Julie being multiple colors makes her not only stand out from standard Rainbow Monsters, but would, in theory, make her clash with the rest of her band, and I think she knows that.

I would also note that she's not just multicolored, she's the same colors as her siblings, with orange/yellow horns,, and blue/green legs. Which, to me, clashes further with the idea that Jonesy gives, with each Rainbow Monster being their own color so that every band is some portion of the rainbow. If Julie had been just pink[red], they would have had every color, as the central color palette Clown uses for the neighbors doesn't include purple.

Again, her being multicolored clashes too harshly with information we are told directly by other members of her species, for it to not be applicable. It's clear she stands out, but combined with other things we see, im inclined to think that her coloration is the dogwhistle.

Fur [The Lack Thereof]

Jonesy, Franny, and Bea, are all shown to have fur, most notably in their Devotion album color, where we can see they have fur on their chests and shoulders. Julie is never shown to have fur on her.

I checked the whole damn site. Even the storybooks, because you don't see her chest or shoulders in her normal outfit. So I found outfits where you could. In Sweet Briar, you see her collar and shoulders in one of the outfits she wears.

I also verified with different art styles, where other characters had notable fur.

While we're never directly told that Rainbow Monsters have fur, we're indirectly told that at least, of Rainbow Monsters, the Joyfuls have fur. With it being everyone but Julie, and my previous points, i'm not inclined to think that Julie's siblings are the odd ones out of the Rainbow Monsters.

Speaking With Plants

While in the hidden videos she does talk about not being able to speak to flowers while they're budded, we also have no real confirmation that she can talk to *any* flowers. There are two notable times that I think of when she mentions speaking for the flowers.

Eddie & the Rhododendron

She bullies Eddie into fighting 'the flower' after she accuses him of almost stepping on it. She doesn't need to *talk* to a flower to know it wouldnt enjoy almost being stepped on.

Sally & Her Tulips

This one is the first one that peaked my theoriest ears, but, the way Julie talks for the flowers really feels like she's just pulling stuff out of her Puppet Sleeve. She doesnt compliment Sally outside of the very basic things you can either see about her

Julie compliments how she shines, how pointy she is, how yellow she is, etc. in addition to very base level things anyone would be able to parse out about Sally, such as how Julie attributes the well-cared for nature of the flowers to Sally's passion for theatre.

Neither of these scenarios require her to actually speak for these flowers, just for people to assume she can.

Internalized Ableism, Complex Family Dynamics, & The Marlo Flower

What is Her Job, Like Actually?

So i'm the last person to bring real world logic into a puppet realm where sentient houses are casual things, especially in the case of these three, but what does Julie actually do? Her role in spring seems inconsequential, compared to the other three. If we lay out each of their roles in beginning spring, it'd be split up like this:

Franny

Makes the snow melt and turn into rain/morning dew

Gives the plants water, which they need to grow

Jonesy

Makes the seeds take root/sprout

starting the growth process all together.

Bea

makes the sun shine. Allows the now budding plants to make food and actually grow.

Essentially kickstarts photosynthesis

And Julie... makes the already sprouted, fed, and watered plants.. bloom?

The way i've come to interpret it, the central purpose of the role is to make her feel included. Her presence in the band is largely inconsequential to the grand scheme of things. The flowers have soil, water, and sunlight- they are going to bloom regardless.

To a degree I think she is aware of that, or is at least aware that her role isn't as crucial to spring as her brother and sisters are. That's why

A: She takes it so seriously, and why I think she tweaks out when the Marlo Flower doesn't bloom. The one thing she is supposedly tasked with doing, she cant do now that she really has to.

B: she doesn't want to join the band after leaving the first time.

We're going to look at both of these, most likely in depth.

Julie's Villain Arc, Sponsored By: Flowers and Fake Friends

Brief Reminder: For the purposes of this theory I am also of the belief that the Marlo Flower is a Winter Flower, as some theories suggest based on its nature and coloration.

The Marlo flower doesn't just act as a literal flower that cant bloom, but can perhaps be viewed as a foil of sorts to Julie in this update. This flower not only serves as a medium for which the audience can get a view into Julie's internal thought, but, a secondary perspective into the life of Home, and how Julie sees the world.

Throughout Welcome Home's updates we've seen a strengthening theme of Purpose, specifically the need for it, and loss of a sense of purpose within the community. Julie's sense of purpose is crushed by the existence of the Marlo Flower, but her 'crashout' is intensified, perhaps, by her rocky standings within her own chosen community.

In The Julie Guide To Being Joyful, Julie explicitly lies to Wally about her attitude/relationships with the neighbors, in order to show him what joy is. We know she lies because in the 'regardforgetfulnesssilence' video, Julie speaks to what we can assume to be the truth of her day interacting with her neighbors. In context of the book, we can assume this is to provide Wally with concrete examples of good interactions between the neighbors. In context of the update, this is Julie lying to herself, Wally, or both, in order to keep up the ideation and appearance that she is well loved within her community, when inside she knows she isn't.

A [Not] Brief Comparison of The Book & Hidden Video

Yes, I screenshotted every page, because, yes, i have comments about every page. Going in page order, i'll be comparing and contrasting the lines used in The Julie Guide To Being Joyful, and the lines spoken by Julie in 'regardforgetfulnesssilence', titled as 'Book' and 'Video' respectively from here and forward.

Barnaby

Book: "The last time we played, we both had so much fun even if it did take him a whole clock spin to find me!"

Video: "Home is really nice... through some people can be a little rude... Barnaby is always makin' fun of me, calling me a silly girl.."

Barnaby's neutral language towards Julie is very consistent through the material we've seen between them. Most often this takes the form of Barnaby making fun of Julie for her bad jokes, though he also has no qualms making fun of Julie & Frank in tandem.

Sally

Video: "And Sally's funny, she's a gen-u-ine star! She tells the best stories"

Book: "The Duchess of Dahlia's jubilations have never been so emotionally vivaciously joyous! It's pulchritudinous!"

With Sally I had initially nothing I wanted to cover, as her words seemed fairly standard- theatrical and overdramatic. But, I did some digging and found out that 'Duchess of Dahlia's is a type of Dahlia flower- one of the largest and tallest growing, if I remember correctly. But the interesting thing to note is if you take it in the context of floriography, Dahlias represent Instability. In which case, it would be intentional for Sally to make such a specific reference to a flower Julie would already know the meaning of. Just food for thought.

Poppy

"Poppy is really nice and reeeally big! She's kind of a scaredy bird though"

In Poppy's case I can't immediately tell if Julie knows she's being dismissive of her, because it might not immediately ring alarm bells for Julie that Poppy doesn't want any of the pie that they've just baked.

Eddie

[continued from Poppy's] "Eddie can be that way too"

Eddie, I think, perhaps along with Wally & Frank, is the only person that I believe is genuinely nice to her because they want to be nice to her.

Howdy

Book: "Julie you're hi-larious! I oughtta put two cherries on your malt for all these uproarious laughs your givin' me! This is the bee's knees, This is the berries! Applesauce!"

Video: "Howdy tells me to get better material sometimes, too..."

We can observe the contradictions between how Julie says their interactions go, and how their interactions actually went best with Howdy's. It's not even a slight smudge of the truth, it's an outright lie in order to keep up the idea that everyone likes her.

Frank [technically]

Video: "But I think I like Frank most of all. He's the first one I met when I came to Home... I was just like you, I didn't know anyone when I came here. (she sounds worried) "It's... kind of hard to remember how we met. But, I think it was while I was making my burrow... He fell into my tunnel from above. He had a big fruit basket, too, I think he was coming to say hi to me

Julie's relationship to the Marlo Flower & The Joyfuls

Julie's relationship with the Marlo flower, from my perspective, is a physical representation of her trying and failing to hide the severity of a sort of disability she's representative of, in the same way one can assume Wally has Autism judging by the way he interacts with the world around him.

In begging and eventually trying to force the flower to bloom, she is effectively trying to fight an uphill battle to prove that she's capable, even though her disability limits her too severely to accomplish her goals in a way that satisfies her internal need to be perceived as useful to the rest of home, and capable to the rest of the Joyfuls. She doesn't want people to think less of her because of this disability, so she tries harder in spite of these failures. This eventually leads to what we can assume is Julie ripping up the flower.

It's implied Frank knows that Julie is going off to check on the Marlo Flower, and him accepting her excuse suggests he is at least mildly aware of her predicament and the stakes it carries for her. Less we forget she took him to see it once already. He knows where it is, and he's not stupid to miss a detail like that.

At the same time, I think her internal need to be perceived and socially accepted as useful and capable is ALSO why she doesn't want to join the band again, if not why she left in the first place. She's the one person in her family that is incapable of doing the very thing Rainbow Monsters are supposed to be able to do- the very thing that separates them from other species living in the world of Home, and she, again, doesn't want to be a burden or hinderance, especially to her family.

We can connect this back to the aforementioned themes of ableism within my earlier texts, in addition to the theme of Purpose we're seeing in the wider story [most notably with Eddie in the Homewarming update]. However, Julie's case focuses on her internalized ableism, brought on by a socially perceived need for contribution. What is she to Home if she has no distinctive use or function in the neighborhood? What's to stop her from being kicked out or replaced if she doesn't pull her weight, and being sent back to live with her family?

Which is to say, Julie's sense of purpose, as is being tested within this update, lies in a skill she may not even have the base ability to perform. If she should actually be lying about her Rainbow Monster abilities, it spells trouble for her future when she cant legitimately put this skill to use when she needs it. The Marlo flower exists to amplify and better present this fragile sense of belonging and purpose Julie has created for herself, and in destroying the flower ina. desperate attempt to continue to seem useful and capable, seals herself and Frank into a situation I am sure will come back to bite them in the future.

Small Afternote: If you’re into welcome home theories, my entire blog is dedicated to that, and I’d appreciated if you checked it out :) If you have any questions, want me to elaborate, or have counter theories, I’d love to hear them! My asks are also open for any reason ^^

#welcome home theories #welcome home arg #home-cooked columns #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home theory #welcome home restoration project #julie joyful #welcome home julie

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