#and 2. they’re simply little guys

[art-of-the-maiden]

okay so i thought i’d be done memeing after the first comic with mikey and leo playing catch, but no. @ashwii ‘s au is finally bringing back my art mojo and i can’t resist

so here, have “April Asks Too Many Questions: a Saga” as a tribute to the brain worms

bonus:

[feeder86]

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training. 

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach. 

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word. 

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

[compact-turtle]

Yandere Farmer character x GN reader 

Concept: Yandere Farmer x GN reader 

Tw: Delusional Yandere, Age-gap?, Obsessive, Possessive PART 2 <-

-Yandere Farmer who lives alone on a farm.  There was no one to comfort him, make him any meals, or lay in bed with. It hadn’t dawned on him how much he desired a family. 

-A cute little spouse who would stay home and greet him with a kiss. They’d whisper sweet words as they threw their arms around his neck. Children that would run to his side after a long day. 

-Yandere Farmer who opens the door to three college students. They’re all standing on his porch eagerly asking if they can stay the night. They explain that their car died on the road. Honestly, he doesn’t give a shit.  He’s about to kick them off his property until they offer him money. 

-Yandere Farmer who reluctantly lets them in. He tells them they can figure out sleeping arrangements in the living room. He’s about to go to bed when one of the students stops him. They ask for a favor. Their stubborn friend refused to follow them and insisted on sleeping in the car. They ask for him to pick up their friend. 

-And he’s about to decline the favor. Until they offer some more cash incentives. He groans internally but hops into his red pickup truck. His trusty revolver is strapped onto his side. However, he deploys his two guard dogs to watch the house before he leaves. 

-He drives down the road until he spots an abandoned car. He gets out of the truck with his flashlight.

- Slowly, he approaches the car windows. He shines a light inside and his heart skips a beat. There you are fast asleep tucked in with a blanket.

- The moonlight shines over your face as you snuggle deeper into the blanket. You were the prettiest thing he'd seen in a long time. 

-You were so vulnerable.  What if he was a bad guy? It would be so easy to take advantage of you. Good thing he stumbled upon you instead of some creep. 

-It feels like hours as he simply stares at your face. You look like a fairy who descended upon earth. He felt wrong waking you up from such a peaceful slumber. Yet, it’d be much safer in his arms at his house rather than this dingy car. 

“Ay, Wake up.” 

-He watches as your eyes begin to open in confusion. You look around until he knocks on the window. Your eyes dart up and go wide. Just like a deer caught in the headlights. 

-He explains the situation then insists you get into his car. You reply that you’d rather spend the night in the car. You don’t want to trouble him. 

-How sweet. You think you have a choice. 

-In the end, you were forced into his pickup truck. He threw your luggage in the trunk then slid in the driver seat. The car choked to life as he shifted it into drive. The atmosphere was tense. 

-You’re silent. He’s silent. 

- Yandere Farmer who doesn’t know what to talk about. He doesn’t have much experience interacting with other people. He grew up mainly isolated with overbearing parents who were abusive. (Good thing he fixed that problem though)

-However, his gruff voice breaks the uncomfortable tension between you two.

“What’s yer name?” 

“Y/n” You answered back meekly. 

“Got a loverboy waiting for you?”

-You shake your head. He listens to how you mentioned that you’ve never been in a relationship.  

-Good.

[zchnlswrld]

(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS

🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite

if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!

ATEEZ/MULTIPLE

Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀

opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧

↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?

Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥

HONGJOONG

Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓

Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀

To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥

Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀

Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓

↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone

SEONGHWA

The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧

↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible

let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT

no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥

bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥

↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release

cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓

checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀

the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥

YUNHO

Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥

opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥

↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release

what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)

PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)

something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧

↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding

Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)

↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!

entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧

YEOSANG

no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀

RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧

↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this

for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧

↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j

SAN

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT

Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥

↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE

seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧

↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀

↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear

a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧

MINGI

Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀

↳ i did cry when i finished this

nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥

One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀

Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓

WOOYOUNG

Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥

Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓

change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓

place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧

↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl

If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀

JONGHO

so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧

↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now

killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓

glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓

zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this

20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓

the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧

↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID

[puckinghischier]

Jersey Talk

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk

notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌

p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!

part 1, part 2

[6.4k]

You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.

Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys can give you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.

As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers, your assumption confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.

They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.

“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.

You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.

“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.

“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, laying your head on your hands that rest on the arm of the loveseat.

“Well, you have our full attention now, what’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.

“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.

“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.

“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.

The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. They’ve taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch game film with them over the summer at the lake, and you would just sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the two would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with Jack and Luke, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.

“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way, so we can win on Saturday,” Jack speaks, seeming a little offended by your story a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.

Practices have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings, and so tired by the time they come home they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, chatting a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.

They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable. You had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.

This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.

“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.

Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.

“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.

“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.

“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.

“The real question here shouldn’t have been if I was going to come or not, it’s whose jersey i’m going to wear,” you throw out, poking fun at the two.

“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.

“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”

“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.

Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.

“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.

“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”

You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about a week and a half ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but felt it was too odd for you to ask about him outright. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. He’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once, not even in the elevator. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.

You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring. Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke.

“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke answers, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.

You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.

“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.

“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”

“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.

“Now c’mon, y/n, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident! We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!” Luke argues back, looking between you and his brother.

“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.

“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.

“Well right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey y/n was going to wear to the game on Saturday, and I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.

“Well, she has a point.”

“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, y/n. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.

“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.

“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.

“C’mon, y/n, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.

“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, addressing you directly for the first time.

“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support to my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”

Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.

You weren’t wearing anything else to show your support for the team because of your intent on buying a jersey, so you were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you once that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re off limits, seeing as there’s usually unspoken rules around sisters and friends of teammates.

“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.

“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.

Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.

“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.

“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.

“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.

———————————————————————————

“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.

You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming on an off day, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you. After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan exactly and Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, learning that that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, and he just rolled his eyes and told you ‘this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties’.

You still don’t have an answer from the living room, assuming they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.

“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.

You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”

Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.

“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.

“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”

This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.

“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”

“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.

Nico makes his way over to you, causing you to move out of the way while he picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.

“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.

“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.

Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.

“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.

“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly has he steps back from the table.

“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.

“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack takes his seat at the table.

“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.

“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack.

“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.

The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.

“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”

“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.

“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.

“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.

“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.

“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.

“Well, the good news is I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.

“Hell yeah! This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the scared space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”

“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.

It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.

“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.

“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t get to last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.

“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.

“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”

“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.

“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.

You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.

You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.

“Well, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain from his spot at the sink.

“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”

“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, drying off a glass jack had just washed.

“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied into Jack’s hands, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.

“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.

“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.

“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.

Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”

“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.

“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to do pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.

“Thanks for dinner, y/n. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.

“Anytime, cap. After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”

This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.

“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” He steps through the door you’re holding open.

“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.

“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.

“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.

“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.

After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.

“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”

He hands you the jersey in his hands, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper right corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the many Hughes ones I own. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.

“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.

“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch.”

“My door’s always open for you.”

You look back down to the jersey in your hands, admiring how pretty it really is. You guess it would be funny to show up wearing Nico’s jersey instead of either Jack’s or Luke’s. But what if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.

“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. If anything I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, scaring you a bit with how well he can read you already, only having spent a small amount of time around the man.

“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you.”

“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.

“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait.

“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done. And if I don’t, well then consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming.”

Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “You do that. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.

You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it, wanting the reveal to stay a surprise until Saturday. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.

“Luke, am I stupid or did y/n call me stupid earlier?”

“Jack, think about how you just worded that question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.

Oh how you loved being back with your boys.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: What kind of yandere they would be [18+]

Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! In here I will give you a reading on what kind of yandere your future spouse would be. I hope you guys enjoy and find this interesting.

Warning: this pac is for 18+ and entertainment only. This pac can be triggering to some people.

Masterpost > Paid Readings

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

Your future spouse would definitely be the yandere that no one notices, not even you. They watch from afar, don’t come too close and know perfectly well what they can and can’t do in order to avoid being caught yet still find their way into getting what they want.

This kind of yandere would have a habit of stealing little things from your appartement or bag, but so small it is basically not noticeable; a pen, a piece of paper, some hair thrown in the trash. Small things no one pays mind to except them.

When it comes to actual harm they wouldn’t do much since they know well enough that what they do is not good and they minimalize it as much as possible. ‘If I don’t take essential and important things it’s basically like I haven’t stolen at all.’ Is something they would often tell themselves.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse would be more of an active yandere, in such a way that you would actually notice / feel the effects from the presence of this person in your life. They’d be the very charming kind that act like they’re incredibly normal, kind, helpful and caring, but in actuality they fake all their interactions with the people around you to be able to get close to you.

They wouldn’t only charm you into becoming close with them, they’d be the yandere to put cameras in your house or make pictures of you through holes in the door or through windows. Your future spouse would also be the kind of yandere that would eventually put something in your drink (which they’re able to do since you trust them, and they’ve often cooked dinner for you) to take you with them once the pills have taken effect.

Pile 3:

This future spouse would definitely be the yandere that constantly follows you when you’re walking outside, especially at night. You’ll have a pretty active nightlife (if you don’t already) which would give this theoretical yandere the chance at following you around, mostly unnoticed. However, you would eventually find our or have a hunch due to your intuition sending off alarm bells on full blast.

Your future spouse would be the kind of yandere that, at first (and for an incredibly long time), wouldn’t directly talk to you or seek contact with you. They’d secretly stalk you, finding out everything about you; your family, your friends, your schedule, your hobbies etc. absolutely everything. Some of this pile would also be able to hack into your phone and figure this stuff out.

This s/o if they were a yandere would be the kind of yandere to manipulate situations in your life which makes it more likely to walk past them, or makes it easier to see you in real life. This manipulation could go from simply changing your schedule without your knowledge, but also harming your family (maybe friends but mostly family) to get you to come to certain places where they can easily see you and watch you.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media posting

✯baby leclerc is everyone’s favourite leclerc, let’s be honest

✯another request!! thank you anon for asking for another baby leclerc! finding faceclaims is so hard and they’re never the same, so frustrating 😂

y/nleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, arthurleclerc and 880,000 others

life lately♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 45,000 comments

username i love them w my whole being

username jules is so adorable I SIMPLY CANNOT

lilyhme i’m so excited to see you guys tonight, i cannot wait for jules snuggles

>y/nleclerc she’s very excited to see you and alex!!

>landonorris where’s my invite 🤨

>y/nleclerc lando you’re sitting in front of me😐

username lando lives w y/n and charles now, it’s a fact 💀

scuderiaferrari little leclerc!!♥️

liked by y/nleclerc and charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc my girls❤️

y/nleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by y/nleclerc, carlossainz55, voguefrance and 3M others

je promets de vous donner la monde à tous les deux♥️

tagged y/nleclerc

see 115,000 comments

username i’ll never recover

username charles is a certified girl dad idc

username im not crying you are

y/nleclerc je t’aime tellement bébé, you are our entire world♥️

liked by charles_leclerc

landonorris can i come over and hangout please 😁

>charles_leclerc mate you just left 10 mins ago

>carlossainz55 yes he did, to come pick me up 😃

>y/nleclerc yes you can all come over, i’m making pasta for dinner

>landonorris pls don’t let charles help

>charles_leclerc i’m locking you all out.

username not the pasta 😭😭😭

y/nleclerc

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 2M others

well cats out of the bag i guess, baby leclerc #2 is on the way! if you swipe to the end you can really see how proud of himself charles is. all jokes aside i am very excited for this new adventure with you, jules will be the best big sister and you’ll continue being the absolute best father to both our babies.

nous t’aimons tellement papa♥️♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 100,000 comments

username MY HEART!!!!

username my favourite people are having another baby����

francisca.cgomes SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!!!! 😭

>lilyhme ALEX’S FAMILY THINK IM NUTS SOBBING🥹

>y/nleclerc i love you girls, get ready to be aunties again♥️♥️

carlossainz55 baby leclerc #2 let’s go!!❤️

maxverstappen1 congrats guys!🤍

username i can’t take it

lewishamilton congratulations to you both❤️

landonorris omg omg omg omg

>y/nleclerc want to be hired as our nanny?

>landonorris UH YEAH😭

username i cant with lando💀

charles_leclerc thank you for giving us such a beautiful family, you’re the best mother to our baby girl, and will be the best mother to the new baby as well, je t’aime tellement chérie ❤️

liked by y/nleclerc

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[luffyvace]

✌︎ Sitting in Zoro’s Lap hcs ✌︎

I just felt like doing these<3 I don’t usually do concepts and I’m testing out the waters so they’ll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc it’ll be more fun ✌︎

enjoy zoro simps cuz y’all definitely be on my acc 💖

At first he feels it’s kinda pointless

like he’s thinking “why would you wanna sit on my lap?!—sit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!”

but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether that’s bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,

you did it!!

And that’s all that matters :)

he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually

While you sit on him he’s usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed

When you sit facing him it’s a little more comfortable for him

he prefers it that way

sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him

he’ll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up

Like training for example

If he wasn’t too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself

if he’s not tired he waits for you to get up

he doesn’t like to stir you from sleep but if it’s important like a ship attack he’s kinda rough about doing so- 😀

bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name

not because he’s trying to be mean 🤷‍♀️

Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you won’t be able to dodge—and protecting someone isn’t his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak

uh anyway 😗

When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like don’t be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i don’t wanna hear anyone saying they’re too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)

sitting like that’s kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun 😬😀

plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-

Or things like

1) he bites his tongue

2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)

3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)

4) you hit your head on his nose

So yeah this position is less common for you guys

Bonus if your hair is long

then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)

he prefers you don’t sit on his lap in public

mostly because he doesn’t like the stares that come with it 💁‍♀️

he just feels awkward

If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public however…..

it’ll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him

that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free

just in case an attack comes that he needs to block

orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol 😋

on the merry/sunny he’s more likely to cave in

especially since it’s just the strawhats

unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesn’t mind as much

plus y’all can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely

ngl he pretty comfy to sit on

unless your really tall or smth he’s prob bigger than you

so it’s not like y’all are uncomfortable or squished

zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?

yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads

and idk if you know what I’m talking about but those who get it do 💗👍

Does he end up liking it?

yes :)

yes he does. :)

Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because it’s more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not 😊

Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 ⚔️🗡

[miguelhugger2099]

Little Miguel, Big Miguel (Pt. 2)

Summary: Miggy meets a few people and he finally grabs the chance to speak with you again. Previous This chapter was so hard to write oml Art in the middle by LBY2K99 Miguel x GN!Reader, fluff, lowkey crack, not proofread at all, Word Count: 3, 106

Eventually Miggy and Jess walked through the entrance of the cafeteria, the threshold being much larger than he expected with various spiders on high beams or on a string of web. Others were normal and sitting at the many tables and booths the place had provided. 

Was that a T-Rex?

“You hungry?” She peered down at him after walking in front of a counter. Miggy shrugged despite his stomach growling.

“I could eat,” He huffed when Jess shoved a tray in his hand, a burger that had his variant’s mask plastered on the bun. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Huh. A little more conceited than I thought.” He mumbled to himself. 

“Hi, guys!” Jess walked past and called out to a group of people sitting at a booth. They all turned and greeted her back before all of their eyes landed on Miggy. He squirmed slightly as Jess walked in front of him and Miggy followed hesitantly behind.

“Bloody hell. Did the boss shrink? That's jokes.” One smirks, chuckling to himself, his voice smooth and deep that melted nicely with his British accent. 

The other three are slack jawed, not believing what they’re eyes.

“Did he shrink?!” One with a blue headband gasps.

“No, Miguel didn’t shrink,” Jess rolled her eyes. “This is our new recruit, Miguel, obv–obviously. He's getting used to the place so,” Her hand stretches out to list their names. “Hobie, Pavitr, Miles and Gwen.” 

“Is no one finding this strange?” A teenager that looked a little older than him spoke out, his suit completely black except for the red stripes running down his arms. Miles, Miggy made sure to remember. “It's Miguel but…pocket sized.” The girl next to him softly smacks his chest with a warning look.

“He's a kid, Miles. We've met other variants of ourselves before so this shouldn't be different.” Her eyebrows furrowed and the metal piercing by her right glinted underneath the fluorescent lights. Gwen.

Miles pouted. “At least my variant was the same age.” He mumbled under his breath.

Gwen smiles. “Nice to meet you, Miguel.” 

“Ah–actually. You guys can call him Miggy or anything other than Miguel. Just to avoid confusion for the time being.” Jess intervenes awkwardly, helping Miggy into a seat by Miles and Gwen. All of them give their own greetings, welcoming Miggy in despite the strangeness of seeing a more timid and kid version of the man in charge.

“Qué tal?” Miles leans back in his chair.

Miggy brightens up. “Hablas español?” He asks Miles. Miles sits up, wide eyed and suddenly nervous.

“Y-yeah, I know un–un poquitito, y'know.” There was still a bit of an accent but Miggy didn't mind, simply chuckling and nodding, subconsciously showing off his sharp fangs when taking a bite of his burger.

“Woah, were those fangs?” Pavitr leans over the table to take a closer look. Miggy leans back. “Are they retractable too?”

“Uh, no. It’s–it’s just like that.” Miggy chuckled awkwardly after swallowing.

“How long you been Spider-Man for?” Miles asks and turns to him.

“Ah…almost a year, pretty sure.” He kept eating, taking another few bites.

“Are you on rapture?” Hobie tilts his head with a raise of his eyebrow, almost with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Bug-eyed and jaw slacked, Miggy snaps his head to Hobie, nearly choking on himself. “No!” He sputtered while Hobie nodded and leaned back as he relaxed. “Shock, what is wrong with you guys?” He wheezed out.

Pavitr laughs. “I like this new little boss.”

“He don’t got a stick up his arse, that’s for sure. Makes him ten times better than the geezer.” Hobie plays with his bottom lip ring.

“Be nice.” Jess warns with her arms crossed.

“I am nice. That was my nicest, actually.”

Jess’s phone pings in her pocket and she checks her alarm. “Shoot. I need to go. Miggy,” He turns his head to her. “We’ll have to finish orientation another time. I gotta head home. Guys, if you could just keep an eye on him till the end of the day?”

The group of young spiders nod up at her, all responding with their own variations of responses. Jess gives a lingering look to the group, eyeing them down to make sure she can trust them. Deeming them good kids, she sighs and waves, walking away to open a portal back to her dimension. Miggy shrinks in his seat, now being with semi-strangers and the only person he kinda knew in this place, left.

After she leaves, all of them begin to ask more questions like how old he was, if their Miguel’s universe was similar to his universe, etc, etc. Miggy tried his best to answer ease their curiosity with a gentle yet nervous smile. It had been a while since so many people have been kind to him.

Gwen mentions your name after thinking for a moment. “Do you think they know about him?” Miggy’s ear perks up at the mention of you. Where were you anyway? Did you leave? He wanted to see you again.

“Not if Miguel allows it. I can see him getting mad about this.” Pavitr rests his chin in his palm.

“Be a bit freaky if I were to see ‘em together anyway. Since they’re always around the big man.” Hobie crosses his arms on the table.

“I don’t think it’d be freaky. Everyone’s making a big deal about this.” Gwen frowns. Miggy droned out their talking, his eyes searching side to side to find and exit. Don’t get him wrong, these are nice people and he can see himself being friends with them, he just…really needed to see you.

Or maybe it was an excuse to escape their gossiping while in front of him.

Miggy slipped from his seat and escaped the flurry of whatever the hell they were saying while they chatted amongst themselves. He used his webs to swing himself to the ceiling with a small fwizz coming from his wrists. His claws poked out, clutching onto the metal as he crawled away, avoiding Spider-Monkey and out of the threshold. He failed to notice a pair of eyes watching his exit.

He hopped off the wall and landed on one of the many beams the building provided. Miggy took a few glances around him to make sure no one could bother him when he lifted his wrist to his face. He hesitantly raises a finger to the screen. Even though it looked like his universe tech, he still had no clue how it operated. Deciding not to break it accidentally, he brought it close to his lips. “Hey, miss…AI lady, ma’am?” He whispers to the watch.

Lyla suddenly popped up on top of the screen, her holographic body standing in front of many tiny floating monitors. Miggy yelped, covering his mouth with his other hand.

“What’s up little boss? Got a question? And no, you’re not allowed on any mission. You’re on babysitter protocol.” Lyla didn’t look up at him, choosing to look at each file and trashing the ones she deemed unimportant.

“Babysitter?” Miggy scrunched up his face in disdain.

She yawned. “Big boss doesn’t want you out and about to other universes yet. Sorry, kid. Now if you’ll excuse me–”

“Wait, wait! No! That’s–that’s not what I was gonna ask.” He panicked, gripping the watch with his hand. Lyla’s heart sunglasses slid down her nose as she turned her head over her shoulder to face him. “I was just gonna ask about…” He saw your form leave Miguel’s corridor before bumping into another spider person he didn’t recognize for a quick chat. He felt his little heart speed up and smiled. “...them.”

Miggy and Lyla both peered down to watch you smile and laugh with the other spider-man. Miggy noticed a redhead baby in his arms. Lyla glanced at him, back to you and then back to him. She stood up straight and crossed her arms after sliding her shades back on her nose bridge. “Oh, they’re way too old for you, kid.” Miggy frowned at the holographic lady. You had finished talking with whoever that was and waved him and the baby goodbye. Miggy’s heart raced as he prepared himself to jump off the beam.

“Whatever, pequeñita. Don’t need your help anymore. Catch a virus or something.” Miggy grinned mischievously down at her while Lyla gasped in shock.

“Hey–!”

Miggy switched her off and quickly used his webs to stick to the ceiling and swung down behind you, landing on his feet with a quiet thump. Hearing that sound, you turned around to check to see Miggy had stood up on his feet with a toothy smile. The sides of his hair had fallen out of place and he tucked it behind his ear as he walked up to you.

“Hey.” He placed his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest to appear more muscular. You huffed a small laugh, crossing your arms and tilting your head as you looked at him.

“Hi there. I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon.” You decided to amuse him. Miggy shrugged.

“Guess it was fate,” You snorted but Miggy continued anyway. “I was wondering if you had time for a chat? This is your universe I'm assuming? You could show me around the city. Maybe grab a snack together.” He grinned, looking at you with an innocent expression. But you knew better. Miguel would try the same thing in his own version once in a while.

“Uh-huh, yeah, right. Where’s Jess?” You placed your hands on your hips. Miggy stiffened but recollected himself.

“Busy.” He said, technically not lying.

“Sure,” You dragged out. “Well, I thought you came from a similar universe. I don’t think there’d be much new stuff to show you, kid.” You give him a playful pointed look with a tilt of your head. Miggy tsked, poking his cheek with his tongue in annoyance. He didn’t like you thinking he was just some kid. He was more than that, he’d prove it!

“Well, I beg to differ. I’m naturally curious, y’know. It’s one of my charms so I’d like to see if you’re right.”

“So you don’t believe me?” You raised your eyebrow.

Miggy hummed in thought, looking off to the side. “Not at all. Just a test.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, I’m not doing that,” Miggy’s face dropped. “But I am just heading home really quick and then coming back here. So, if you want, you can join me.” You offered and his face brightened up.

“Yeah! Yeah–sure, sure. That I can totally do.”

“Great. It’s actually not far from here so we could just walk to—”

“Woah, woah, woah. Walk? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m Spider-Man.” Miggy gestured to himself with a smug smirk, but your face didn’t falter.

“I see that.”

Miggy pouted. “I can carry you.”

You waved him off. “That’s really not necessary. I know you’re strong but–” You yelped as you felt Miggy grab your waist and pull your close. The height difference was a little awkward but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He wanted to prove to you he was capable and strong. His webs shot out and stuck to the walls, swinging the both of you around while he tried finding an exit with a determined look. You wrapped your arms around him, hoping to the universe that you wouldn’t fall, and he felt his heart race a little faster.

“Directions, please!” He exclaimed, a smile in his voice while you screwed your eyes shut. You eventually felt the wind in your hair and the far away sounds of hover cars zipping past. “That’s new!” He dodged the cars with stealth, clutching you tighter to him.

Your legs became shaky and as soon as your feet touched the ground of your patio, you fell to your hands and knees with a giant huff. Miggy landed beside you, letting you take a breather.

“Estas bien?” He asked gently, his voice much softer than the persona he tried to maintain. He knelt by your side, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Fine, fine. Just…don’t do that again.” You helped yourself up and walked inside after opening the glass door. Miggy followed behind you, slightly embarrassed. He glanced around the area, seeing a void of color all around. Simple grays, blacks, and whites as the palette for couches, walls and the like. It was super different compared to back home. His mom usually did the decorations. Miggy thought this room felt very cold.

“This is your home?” He asked, feeling like this was a stark difference from your personality.

“Yeah, well kind of. I live here with someone.” You reply, rummaging through some things in a different room. Miggy perked up, his lips turning downward and feeling jealous.

“Who?” He asked, looking around to see if he could find anything that showed two people lived here.

You didn’t respond. Maybe you didn’t hear him, maybe you did. Miggy was distracted anyway as he walked slowly around the living room. In the corner of his eye, he saw a box that was out of place on one of the selves by the giant holographic TV. He strolled towards it, its dark purple color being the only thing attracting him.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go around touching things.” Your voice was heard behind him, making Miggy jump. He took a big step away from the box, becoming more curious but he respected you enough. “I thought you would’ve had enough manners to not go snooping in someone's home.” You tossed him a soda and he caught it, seeing that the name brand was slightly spelled different from his own dimension. He found it a little unsettling; still getting accustomed to everything.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, popping open the can with his talon. “What did you get?”

You shrugged. “Some things to help out the society.” You walked towards the couch and sat on the far right to rest yourself on the armrest. “Just give me a minute and we’ll head back.”

Miggy nodded along, shifting his weight from side to side. “What…are you to the society?” He asked quietly, almost afraid he’d offend you.

“What do you mean?” You looked over at him, patting the side next to you to offer him a seat. Miggy walked over and sat by you, a little farther than what you offered.

“Like…you’re clearly not a spider person, much less some powers, but yet you’re in the society. You know all those people yet you’re…a civilian?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just a regular person. I can’t climb walls or shoot webs but…I think I have a right to be there.”

“You said you were special. What does that mean?” He peeked over at you, his soda faintly fizzing.

You avoided his question. “How about you tell me about yourself instead?”

Miggy tilted his head. “Me?” He asked. “But…I don’t think I’m much different from your ‘other me’.”

You waved him off. “I’m sure there’s some difference. C’mon, don’t be shy. I wanna know about the newbie.” You cross your legs and turn to face him.

Miggy looked apprehensive, not really sure if it’s the right time to spill his life story but you asked so he caved in.

“Well, I was bitten trying to save my, uh, bully.” He looked down at his drink and took a small sip. Your smile dropped.

“You were bullied?”

Miggy nodded. “Well, yeah. It, uh… didn’t end well,” He rubs the side of the can. “There was this huge explosion when checking out the spiders in Alchemax– my dad used to work there,” He doesn’t look up at you. “My dad’s boss and his kid were there. His son bullied me, sure, but when that explosion happened, somewhere in between I got bit and…I dunno,” He sighed, a clear heavy weight on his young shoulders. “Kron was there and I tried–I did– and I don’t even know why I did but he still…y’know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine but even though he died, he bullied me. But it doesn’t mean he should’ve passed, y’know? Then I woke up and they said my dad died too so it was all confusing back then.” He leaned back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“I’m…so sorry,” You apologized grimly, guilt eating you up for asking. Miggy looked over at you and gave you a reassuring smile, his fringe falling out of place.

“It’s fine. It happened a while ago. The feeling is still there, just a little less. You didn’t hurt me, promise.” He then chugged the rest of the soda down his throat, feeling the fizz bubble down to his stomach. He crushed the can right after, his talons digging into it and showed you the marks he made. “I got sick powers and I can help my family more now. When they’re in trouble I can just put on the suit and make sure they’re safe.” He beamed with pride and you mirrored the same expression.

“You love your family?” You asked gently, taking the can from his hand and getting up to place it in the recycling bin.

“Mhm!” Miggy nodded. “Since the explosion, we all became a little more tight knit. My mom especially. She became more protective over my little brother since he’s still super little.” He looks up at you as you come back.

“What’s his name?” You hide your smile since you feel you know the answer.

“Gabriel.” Miggy beams. “He’s practically my shadow, which mom doesn’t like. Says I’m too reckless and doesn’t want him to be like me.” He blew raspberries to signify his mild annoyance at the thought.

You laugh and grab a backpack full of things that Miggy assumes were the things you came to collect. “After you swung me around, I think I agree with her.” You joked.

Miggy shot up from his seat and pouted. “Not cool.” But he enjoyed the way you smiled. “Gonna head back out now?”

Nodding, you slip the backpack on and walk with him back to the balcony. “Yup. Whenever you’re ready.” You look at him expectantly. He went a little wide eyed.

“You want me to swing us back?” Lost on why when you screamed earlier.

“Well, I’m prepared this time.” You and Miggy smiled at one another and he looped his arm around your middle. Your hands around his neck and he stuck his web to a building, jumping off the balcony and swinging back to HQ.

A/N: Please forgive me for this mid chapter i'll try to make the next one better i promise

{Taglist 🏷

@sassypotatomoosee @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms @arrozconpepitoria @nanarain @autismsupermusicalassassin @amberpanda99 @huniedeux @oharasfilipinawife @m0stergirl @maimedloveaffairs @glassracecar @lazy-idate @peachipeachy @palesatan @sleepingghoule444 @lizaistewdelulu @cicithemess @amelialysm @keigoloveminty @tatatida @peachyrue-777 }

[sunkendreams]

I'm not really that familiar with 'The lost boys'

But, at the moment i just can help but think about any of them just absolutely going feral for reader in their period;

Just- top tier pussy eating and indulging while helping reader ease the pain.

This can either go really dark or really *really* soft :))

once bitten, twice shy.

( paul x fem!reader x marko. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul x fem!reader x marko (paul-centric fic with a healthy side of marko)

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 5.2K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT! (mdni), vampire antics, blood drinking, bloodplay (they’re vampires), period sex, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), biting, hair-pulling, dirty talk, scratching, paul loves your tits, marko is kinda selfish, making out, kissing while they’re bloody (hot), threesome, ambiguous ending, panty-stealing

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | so ,,, I would absolutely love to write a part 2 to this with them blowing the reader’s back out, so if that’s something y’all wanna see, please comment and/or send a request! I love writing for the lost boys so much ,,, most inspired I’ve been in a long time! I’m gonna start answering requests, too! I’m so excited to be back in the thick of things. Love you guys so much, thanks for your support!

TAGLIST: @dootys ; @reveluving ; @sat10 ; @milland ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @darklylucid ; @sirstompely ; @chaotichellscape ; @callsigncrash ; @manicpixiimurderdoll ; @sandeepics ; @rainbowcreepie ; @kiki-dohedo

They were descending upon you like a pack of slavering wolves — like sharks in the water, drawn to the scent of your blood. Whenever your menstrual cycle came around, it was as if you were wearing a dinner bell around your neck. Dwayne knew better than to interfere when you were in pain, and David simply told you that it would be over soon, without any real compassion.

Paul, however, had no real concept of boundaries, nor did he really have a desire to adhere to them. As soon as he caught wind of your blood, he was always a little closer — never too far away. If Paul happened to be nearby, it was a possibility that Marko was right behind him.

As you lay in your makeshift nest, nestled atop the rickety mattress, you were partially tangled within well-worn sheets, wishing for your torment to end. An excruciating ache spread throughout your lower belly, sending dull shockwaves of pain towards your limbs. Your head vibrated with an unpleasant humming.

Your alcove was shrouded in thick curtains which served as a door — even then, there wasn’t a purpose for it. Privacy was threadbare around the cavern, especially when it came to you. With a low groan, you rolled over, attempting to find a comfortable position, but everything felt horrible.

It was as if your body was imploding, ripping itself to pieces while still barely functioning. Sometimes, you wished that you could turn — if you were a vampire, menstruation would cease, becoming a thing of the past. You were half-tempted to beg David for a sip of the crimson bottle, but you knew he would decline.

With a shaky exhale, you sluggishly rolled out of your bed, gritting your teeth together as another wave of pain radiated through your lower back. A hot bath and plenty of sleep would do you good, but living with the boys had completely altered your circadian rhythm. There was no use in trying to return to normalcy.

Draped in one of your blankets, you wandered toward the drawn curtains, gasping when your foot nudged into something sitting atop the rocky, uneven floor. It was a small pile of chocolate, accompanied by a partially-destroyed box of tampons. You weren’t sure who left it there, but you had a hunch.

You stooped down, gathering the many offerings as you retreated into your chambers, mood improving by a sliver as you went about eating some of the chocolate. They were Milky Way and Secret bars, something you might’ve grabbed at the convenience store once upon a time. You assumed that one of the boys stole it.

As you sat along the edge of your bed, your mouth flooded with a rush of gooey nougat, sweet as can be and somewhat of a relief. It wasn’t enough to quell your constant aches and cramping, but the gesture was thoughtful. You placed the rest in a box underneath your bed, discarding the wrapper into a bin.

Your mattress was the most inviting thing you’d seen all day, coaxing you back into its plush warmth. Swaddling yourself within one of your blankets, you intended on sleeping — attempting to sleep the day away, if you could. Best to do it now before you were rudely interrupted come nighttime.

It was best to rest whenever the boys did, knowing that they’d become rowdy once the sun descended. They had a rather common practice of waking you up whenever they got up, and this time wouldn’t be any different.

“You’re on the rag,” Paul’s voice sliced through your slumber like a hot knife cutting into butter. “I can smell you from miles away — bet anybody could.” Your eyes fluttered, groggy from sleep as you adjusted to the low, flickering candlelight of your nest. It didn’t surprise you to see your boyfriend perched at the foot of your bed, smirking like a maniac, the bastard.

As much as you adored Paul, he was the last person you wanted to see. The unfortunate part about cohabiting with vampires was their nosiness, their desire to feed, their backward circadian rhythm — your boyfriend was the worst of all. With a soft groan, you twisted away, drawing the blanket over you.

Another sharp jolt of pain cut through your stomach, the sensation equating to that of a gut punch or shallow stab wound. You didn’t want Paul to see you like this, all disheveled and haggard, a mess of gore and exhaustion. “What time is it?” You mumbled, briefly rubbing at the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, slithering forward until he was right next to you, close as could be. “Poor baby,” Paul crooned, peppering kisses against your face. “You’re just dying over here, aren’t you?” Admittedly, he wanted to eat you out — he hadn’t asked before, but being in such close proximity without having fed in awhile, he was ravenous.

His lips felt so cool against your feverish flesh, like ice against fire. You shamelessly careened into those brief pecks and fleeting sensations, lips parting as you let the blanket slip a little bit. “Feels like it.” You sighed, hand reaching toward his chest. His skin was always icy, perfect to quell the searing feeling that coursed all over your aching form.

Paul’s motives were mostly self-satisfying, an attempt to extinguish the ragged burning that blistered through his throat. Of course, he wanted to help you — take some of your pain away, but above all, he wanted to feed. He’d drink from your cunt like a fountain if he needed to, but it was all about execution. He wanted you to agree to it.

Marko would want in on this, Paul contemplated.

Sharing with his brother was an act of generosity, but Marko had some claim over you, too. Paul loved you, you loved him — Marko loved you, too. He felt obligated to alert his fellow blonde to your suffering — he was just as hungry. Though, Paul was delighted to find that he could have his fill first, no waiting in line.

“You feel so nice,” It wasn’t intended to be flirtatious — but for Paul, he’d take any scrap that he could get. In an attempt to feel his cold skin against your cheek, he playfully groped at your chest, causing your brows to furrow in mild annoyance. “Paul, not right now.” You sighed.

“Not right now?” He parroted, tone jocular and mischievous as he pressed another kiss against your cheek. You really were warm. Paul watched with a twinge of empathy as you winced, contorting and writhing around atop the mattress. You were in pain — he hated seeing you like this, wrought with an agony that he couldn’t rip away from you.

A bout of silence passed between the both of you, and you looked to Paul, whose mind was racing with lascivious thoughts. Saliva pooled within his mouth, a desperate hunger intermingling with his desire to no longer see you suffering. You curled up against him, hands pressed flat atop the mesh shirt he wore.

You’d grown accustomed to his smell — a pungent aroma, like carrion in the sun attempting to disguise itself as a bottle of stale cologne. At first, it was extremely off-putting, especially when you were having sex, but now, it was simply apart of his very being. You had been surrounded by vampires long enough to understand their distinct and disgusting scent.

“Baby, you gotta let me help you,” Paul murmured, cerulean hues taking on a predatory sheen. He was partially just a boy wanting to fuck his girlfriend, and the other half was a greedy creature who simply wanted your blood. “Got an idea to make you feel better, yeah? Make your pain stop for a little while.”

His icy hand traced over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your lower lip as he continued to shower you in feather-light kisses. It was akin to cold raindrops peppering your flesh. Paul’s hand then drifted underneath your shirt, an item that coincidentally once belonged to him, now repurposed.

That chilled temperature was a nice feeling — as much as you desired heat, the cavern could become oppressively stuffy and overbearing. When the California summers died down, the interior became a little cooler, more mellow. For now, you endured the heat. “Paul, I don’t think sex is going to help me.”

Paul guffawed, grinning wolfishly as he planted a kiss against your lips. It was open-mouthed and needy, which happened to make your cunt throb with a distant ache. You hated Paul sometimes — he made you so aroused and pent-up that you wanted to scream.

His facade of ‘dumb blonde’ charm initially worked on you — a carefully-crafted disguise that gave way to his underlying intelligence. Paul was wicked smart, but he enjoyed keeping up a charade for the fun of it. Easier to hunt that way, he’d told you, once upon a time. He was so charismatic, like a magnet — drew you right in.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, sweet thing.” Paul snickered, crawling a little lower as he pressed kisses against your stomach, which made you so unbelievably flustered. “Let me help you out, baby. M’hungry,” He murmured into your skin, idly rucking your shirt up towards your chest. “Wanna taste you so bad.”

Realization washed over you then and there.

He was hungry.

The fresh menses that coalesced between your thighs must’ve been calling his name, and you stiffened as another tendril of blood wept from your core. It was always an uncomfortable sensation, but Paul could smell it — he had the nose of a keen hunter. You swallowed the lump within your throat, feeling more embarrassed than anything else.

“Paul, I — Are you sure?” If it weren’t for his state of vampirism, you would’ve been mildly disgusted, but this was Paul, after all. He was messy, nasty, and rowdy. He didn’t care whatsoever, and it was one of the reasons why you adored him. He was unapologetically unhinged — his constant state of being.

His cajoling laughter caused you to shiver, knowing what his answer would be before he said anything. It was stupid to believe that a vampire wouldn’t want to have free access to blood, no matter how unorthodox it might’ve been. “I’m very sure, baby. You just lay back, let me handle the rest. M’gonna make you feel better.”

If it weren’t for the context of the situation, he sounded like a doting, devoted boyfriend. You couldn’t help but let out a brief huff of laughter, but then again, if Paul intended to relieve some of your period pains in the process, you weren’t about to stop him.

With a nod, you rolled over, lying flat against the mattress as Paul swiftly shrugged off his tuxedo overcoat, letting it drape against the foot of the bed. His eyes glittered with excitement, and once he was perched at your feet, you got embarrassed. He’d eaten you out before on so many occasions, but this made you unbelievably flustered.

Insecurities got the better of you as you pressed your knees together, hand covering your face. “I can’t, Paul. You’re going to think I’m repulsive.” You groaned, feeling his strong, muscled hand gently clasp around your wrist, dragging it away so that you could see him.

“Baby,” Paul hummed with an urgency, his mane of coarse, dusty-blonde hair looking exceptionally wild when he hovered above you. “You really think that I’m gonna find you gross ‘cause of that?” He inquired, watching your pretty little face scrunch up. “I think it’s hot.”

You scoffed, finding some amusement in that. “You think me being on my period is hot?” It shouldn’t have surprised you — this was Paul, after all. “You’re insatiable. I’m just a free meal for you right now.” You sighed, and even if that was true, you would always be more than that to Paul.

Ever the patient predator, Paul perched his chin against the top of your knee, pressing a sweet kiss against your softer flesh. “Nah, baby! You’re more than that,” He protested, hands rubbing along your thighs. “You’re my sweet little mate.” He watched you shiver, and his lips twitched into a smirk.

Unfortunately, Paul knew how to get you hooked — whenever he referred to you as his mate, you became very smitten very quickly. “I know,” You mumbled, listening to his impish laughter as he showered your legs in greedy kisses. “I know I am.” You shuffled your legs apart just a little bit, and Paul was barging right into that newfound space without warning.

Paul grinned — a glittering, vibrant expression that made your stomach do excitable flips. “Yeah you are,” He purred, pushing your shirt up until it pooled around your stomach. That familiar scent of blood invaded his senses, activating that burning hunger. His throat blistered with a dry, festering agony. “Fuck, you’re all mine.” His voice became a touch darker.

You shuddered, skin crawling with an excitable heat as you squirmed atop the mattress. Paul’s ring-adorned digits curled into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down and off of your legs. With only one thin veil to protect you from Paul and his appetite, you felt his arms hook around you, prying your panties away.

His attention turned to the menstrual pad, gaze sparkling with intrigue as he smelled the freeh blood on it and on you. “Might save that for later, as a dessert.” He let out a bark of laughter, gingerly discarding your panties off to the side, treating them with care. “You smell divine — bet you taste just as good.” Paul groaned.

With a brief inhale, he caught a full gust of your saccharine scent, interwoven that the twang of copper and your menses. He licked his lips, flattening himself against the mattress until he was on his belly. Paul rocked forward, and without hesitation, began to greedily lap at your cunt.

It was as if being touched by an open flame, nerves set ablaze by Paul’s eager, greedy licks. The broad flat of his tongue swept across the length of your slit, drinking in each tendril of blood. A lion drawn to that of a lamb, the predator finally catching its prey. You whimpered, aching something awful as he worked to soothe it.

Your hands lazily clamored toward the crown of his head, digits sinking into his product-stiff mane of hair. It felt coarse underneath your fingertips, but you didn’t care, clutching onto him with a fervor. “Paul, ri—Right there,” You sighed, hips jolting forward. “S’good.”

His oral fixation was rather renowned, and his prowess at giving you mindblowing head was really beginning to show. Paul’s tongue languidly split toward your weeping core, imbibing your menses as your blood began to extinguish that festering pain within his throat.

A molten-hot wave of heat rolled over you, dropping right into the pit of your stomach as he flicked his tongue across your clit. That singular gesture made your cunt clench pathetically around nothing at all, thighs beginning to squeeze at his face. Paul snickered, forcefully parting your legs with a mere shove of his rough palm.

He wished that you were always like this — he wouldn’t have a reason to hunt anymore. That was the lazy way out, and Paul loved the chase, but being able to simply feast on you without harming you was quite the payoff. He cleaned you up, tongue prodding at your entrance with a fervor.

Fortunately, Paul caught you on a heavy flow, and his greed was beginning to shine through. His restraint was thinly-veiled and shattering at the very foundation, hands tugging you forward as he lapped at the trickling rivulets of crimson. A groan escaped him as he devoured your cunt like a man starved, and in all actuality, he was.

“I hope you plan on sharing.” Marko’s voice was extremely unexpected, snapping you out of your lust-induced haze, eyes going as wide as saucers. Your relationship with Marko was a complicated one — Paul was your boyfriend, but you liked Marko, too.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed — ashamed, even. You almost wanted to kick Paul away and wallow in your own frustration. You wanted to squeeze your legs together, but he wasn’t having it, keeping you spread open with one hand. “Paul, wa— Wait,” You protested, voice meek and soft as he lapped at your cunt. “Paul.”

Paul was laughing, tearing himself away from his meal with his chin and mouth turned scarlet, stained with your menses and ichor. He licked his lips, peering toward you with a mischievous expression. “Marko wants in on this,” He mused, caressing your thigh in an attempt to quell your sudden bout of nervousness. “You mind, baby? You can say no.” He assured you.

It all felt like some fever dream, and you were staring at Paul with an incredulous look. They were always prone to sharing, but this seemed like a step further than you intended. “You … You don’t care?” Admittedly, you wanted Marko — burned for him. He was certainly greedier than Paul, twice as insatiable.

“Nah,” Paul chuckled, seemingly nonchalant about this entire ordeal. He was busy licking your taste off of his mouth with all of the excitable gusto of a dog. “You’re still my mate, but I can share a little bit. ‘Sides, Marko’s been looking at you for weeks. He’s jealous that he doesn’t have a hot girlfriend like you, baby.” He sneered, grinning like a wolf as he kissed your leg.

Marko’s countenance became somewhat dour, but he elected to ignore Paul, who was entirely amused. The curly-headed blonde sauntered forward, inching closer toward your bed until he was at your side. He reminded you of a cherub — a cherub cleverly disguised as a devil with a forked tail.

Paul smirked, slithering back to his perch between your thighs, busying himself with eating you out as Marko decided to finally have his moment with you. Besides, you were his thrall — the girl of his eternal dreams, flesh and blood, all belonging to him. He happily lapped at your cunt again, lips occasionally teasing your clit.

You shuddered, shrinking underneath the oppressive force of Marko’s stare, which glistened with an unrestrained desire. He slipped forward, settling beside you on the bed — it was the closest you’d ever been to him. Your heart pounded within your chest, hammering away just underneath your collarbone.

He uttered something in Italian, something that you couldn’t decipher as he hovered above you, fingertips gently trailing across your cheek. You didn’t expect this sort of behavior from him, considering that he had quite the temper and violent streak, but you weren’t about to complain.

Without missing a beat, you slid your hands toward his waist, wanting to touch him. He noted your hesitation, grasping ahold of your wrists as he guided your hands underneath his cropped shirt. “Marko.” You cooed, voice tapering off into a moan. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine — it was hard to focus when Paul was tongue-deep inside of your cunt.

“You’re beautiful,” Marko hummed, dark, green-flecked hues roving over your writhing physique. Your scent was overpowering, awash with that coppery twang of blood, perspiration, and natural musk. He dipped forward, mouth brushing against yours. “Delicate.” His lips split into a gregarious smirk as he nipped at your jaw.

You shivered, beginning to squirm around as Paul lapped at your oozing slit, mouth rapacious as he lapped at stray tendrils of your cruor. He planted a kiss against your thigh, leaving behind the imprint of bloodied lips, fingers clamping down on your hips as he urged you back onto his tongue.

A myriad of whimpers and moans escaped you, swallowed whole by Marko, whose kiss was completely consuming. He was the smallest of the pack, but easily the most voracious alongside Paul. Your palms slid everywhere they could, flat atop Marko’s abdomen as you kissed him.

He felt like smooth marble underneath your fingertips, cold to the touch. Your breath caught within your throat as he gripped at your neck, holding either side as he continued to kiss you. A soft moan escaped you, barely audible between the barrage of kisses exchanged, soon devolving into tongue and teeth.

Paul licked his lips, tasting your body upon his tongue. “Wanna have a taste, Marko?” He snickered, tossing his sandy tresses back with a shake of his head. It was like some unruly, disheveled halo that surrounded him, stiff and layered in product he hadn’t washed out in years.

Marko’s eyes glittered with lust, intermingled with a rapturous hunger. He kissed you hard before recoiling, swiftly switching places with Paul, who was more than happy to come curling up next to you. Marko wanted nothing more than to feed — whether you came or not. It was entirely self-gratifying.

“She smells good enough to eat,” Marko sneered, playfully biting at your inner thigh. He was rougher, somewhat reckless compared to Paul, oddly enough. Paul knew you inside and out — and he wanted to try and be careful with you, if that were possible. “Don’t you, ragazza?” It must’ve been something in Italian.

Your boyfriend let out a bark of laughter. “What are you tryin’ to say? It doesn’t sound as good as you think.” He teased, and Marko gave him a spiteful look. Paul grinned, bloodied mouth on display, like something from a splatter film as he let you recline against his chest. “You gonna pull your shirt up?” He asked you, matter-of-factly.

You blinked, wincing when Marko’s sharp teeth suddenly nicked your supple flesh, drawing out a thin rivulet of blood across your thigh. “You can take it off.” You mumbled, gasping as Paul’s roughened digits pawed and clawed at your shirt, wrangling it up enough until he pushed it over your head.

Paul’s crimson-coated mouth was on your tits before you could fully form a sentence, letting out a soft moan. You immediately gripped at his hair, thighs trembling as Marko dove right in. His tongue split you open, greedily lapping at your fresh wave of menses, hungry as could be. He was far more intense and animated than Paul, which both excited and terrified you.

With a sigh of delight, your hips twitched and jolted forward, held down tight by Marko, who was greedily drinking his fill from you. His tongue swiped against your sensitive cunt in a rather vigorous pattern, hands clasped around your hips. Paul not-so-gently sucked on your nipple, teeth nibbling around the tender bud as he groped at your chest.

Pleasure rippled throughout your body, like tidal waves of ecstasy. That sharp ache that once blistered within the pit of your stomach had been quelled for now, and you couldn’t have been any happier. Your hands roamed through Paul’s tresses, giving them tugs whenever Marko hit a certain spot.

“Fuck, baby — you got the prettiest tits,” Paul groaned, busying himself with kissing and groping your breasts, dexterous hands caressing wherever he could. “Marko being good to you?” He asked, lips twitching into a rather bemused grin. His brother had a tendency to tease — Paul wanted to make sure that you got your release.

Marko smirked; he was devious, mind working to concoct some plan to torment you. He was gleefully tonguing at your cunt as he fed from your menses, chin steeped in gore. He was the picture of mischief, gaze gleaming with an animalistic fervor.

The curly-headed leech hadn’t bothered to touch your clit very much either, but you nodded nonetheless. You wouldn’t be able to find anyone else who gave as good of head as Paul did. There was nothing like him.

“Nothing like him?” Marko’s sardonic lull pulled you from the heat of the moment, goosebumps rising along the length of your spine. Another unfortunate downside of living with vampires — their mind-reading. You gulped, listening to Paul’s heckling howls of laughter as you peered toward Marko.

“D’aw, don’t get jealous, Marko! She knows who she belongs to.” Paul grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss against your jaw, leaving behind trace amounts of blood, which he happily licked away. “That’s why she’s my mate.” His teeth glinted in the low light, eyes blazing with a lustful fire as he squeezed your chin.

Unconvinced, Marko’s lips curled slightly, mouth hotly returning to your still-weeping cunt. You were so close, teetering on the edge of your climax as you moaned, hips jolting forward. It had become a competition, but unfortunately, Paul was still miles ahead.

At last, those angelic lips of his pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Marko was undeniably greedy, adding a slight graze of his teeth as he lapped at your menses. The burn in his throat had diminished, but only by a sliver — he’d go feed on some unsuspecting tourist later.

Your body spasmed, trembling with an explosive bliss as your thighs threatened to smother Marko. Thankfully, the vampire was quick, pinning you apart as he lapped at your clit, swiftly interchanging his ministrations. It was enough to send you careening over the edge.

Paul seemed appeased by this, having to adjust his jeans to relieve some of the friction. Your breath came in excitable huffs, moans tapering off into the cave, reverberating throughout the alcove. Marko didn’t stop, still lapping at your cunt with an eagerness in an attempt to feed just a little more.

Marko growled, drinking in your menses, intermingled with that of your cum as cleaned you up. Paul seemed mildly disappointed that it wasn’t him down there, but there would be plenty of chances.

“Gonna make her explode,” Paul chided, reaching over to shove Marko’s head away from between your legs. Marko’s expression was one of displeasure, but he’d gotten what he wanted, licking at his lips; as satisfied as a cat who’d just caught the canary. “Think she feels better.” He affirmed, pressing kisses all over your face.

You did.

The relief would be temporary, but you were beyond grateful, panting and quivering as you came down from your climax. Perspiration danced along the length of your spine, manifesting as a cold dew. Paul was attentive, hand rubbing into the small of your back as he hopped off of the bed, retrieving a new shirt for you.

It happened to be his, a shredded, dirty Metallica shirt that he’d worn on a handful of occasions. You were still recovering from it all, watching as Marko stood up from between your legs, licking his lips as if he’d eaten something delectable.

“Thank you, Marko.” You mumbled, noticing the blonde’s devilish smirk as he tossed you the box of tampons. “This was you?” That was a surprise — you assumed that it was Paul’s doing. He was much more into giving you gifts like that.

Marko shrugged, but Paul was cackling, grinning at his brother with a sense of understanding. “He’s got a crush on you.” He guffawed, watching as you got dressed — if a shirt and panties counted as such. “I don’t blame him.” Paul purred, giving you another affectionate kiss against your cheek as he slapped your backside.

You noticed that your previous pair of panties were mysteriously missing — but you didn’t say anything, utilizing the tampons gifted to you before clearing your throat. “Can we go to yours, Paul?” You asked softly, wanting to go to his nest, instead. It was much more lived-in and vibrant than yours.

“Sure thing,” He hummed, head cocking to one side. “Don’t you wanna say goodnight to Marko?” Paul mused, planting his hands against your shoulders. You seemed a little flustered but nodded nonetheless, feeling his lips meld against yours in a reassuring kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.” His teeth nipped at your jaw before he disappeared through the thick curtains.

Tension hung heavy in the air, thick like an inescapable haze as you stared at Marko. You didn’t know what to say, but he beat you to it.

“Will you let me take you out sometime?” He asked, head cocked to one side. Paul must’ve known about this already — otherwise, there would’ve been some sort of rift or protest. Marko’s chin was still stained in your blood, which made your stomach do excitable flips.

“Yeah,” You nodded, stepping forward to wipe off his chin with your discarded shirt. “Thanks for … That.” Heat crawled across your flesh as Marko grabbed your wrists, dragging you in for an invasive kiss. His tongue greedily meshed with yours, enough to make your head spin, feeling dizzy with desire.

The kiss made your heart race — it was different from Paul’s kisses. Marko was always dancing along that fine line of danger, but Paul was, oddly enough, a little more docile. Both were just as satisfying as the other. Either way, you were whimpering, hapless as you moved your mouth against his.

Marko withdrew, angelic countenance reminding you of a fiendish imp instead of a cherub. He swept his hand across your jaw. “Don’t mention it,” He seemed more subdued than he’d been before. “You know who to ask if you need help.” His chuckle was mesmerizing.

You pushed your fingers through his mop of golden curls, chewing at your lower lip. You gave Marko another sweet kiss before the both of you left, Marko going one way, and you wandering toward Paul’s nest.

When you slipped past the mangled web of tapestries and curtains, Paul was laying on his bed, legs kicked up against the rocky wall as he smirked at you. “He asked you?” He inquired, propping himself up on one arm. You were surprised, but admittedly, you shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah,” You murmured, shuffling forward until you sat down next to Paul. The blonde immediately grabbed you, hauling you on top of him as he snuggled his face into your clothed breasts, which made you giggle. “Paul, you know that I’m yours, right? I don’t want us to stop.” You gushed, worried that he’d leave you because of this.

“I know,” Paul mused, grinning up at you with that wonderfully stupid expression of his. “You can be his side meal,” He snorted at his own ridiculous joke, palms caressing and massaging into your hips. It was a nice feeling. “S’long as you’re still my mate.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing his face with your hands, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. Paul exhaled, sitting up fully to hold you, letting you straddle his lap as he began to kiss you back. It was a rather foul concoction of your blood and his own saliva. “ … Did you steal my panties, by the way?” You mumbled.

Paul snickered, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he jerked his chin toward the entrance of his nest.

“You’ll have to ask Marko.”

[taeiun]

this love is small.

synopsis: some of the little things that they do in your relationship

who: zb1 x gn!reader (not including yujin)

categories: fluff, some crack, headcanon styled scenarios

warnings: mentions of food in jiwoong + taerae's parts, light swearing

word count: 1.1k

✧ JIWOONG !

✧ jiwoong gains a newly formed sixth sense when it comes to your needs; he knows your favourite snacks by heart and also picks up if you guys are low on them without even looking at the cabinet.  you don’t even need to ask him to grab a snack for you because he’ll just know. probably knows when those foods are on sale before you even open your mouth to tell him. like, he’s probably already picked up three bags of those chips you really enjoyed last time and they’re waiting on the counter for you.

✧ will send you a notes app shopping list so that you don’t get jumped scared by the random appearance of shrimp chips and sour candies constantly and wonder how they got there half the time when you both haven’t even talked about being out of them.

✧ ZHANG HAO !

✧ hao keeps a collection of short, vlog-like recordings of the two of you in a private, for his eyes only folder on his phone. he watches these whenever he misses you or feels down and needs a pick me up. these videos will range from past dates, his commentary as he records you sleeping, to not even a two second moment of you laughing. you might find the angles unflattering, but he treasures each and everyone, watching them with a goofy ahah smile on his face.

✧ the others have 100% definitely, not even up for question, walked in on him in the middle of a watching session. he’ll just be sitting curled up in bed, blanket draped around him, with the lights turned off and earbuds plugged into his phone. this ends two ways. 1) the member leaves before he can notice and all is well or 2) they tease him only to end up with a pillow to the face

✧ HANBIN !

✧ whenever he’s on tour or can’t see you for long periods of time, hanbin will keep a list of things that happen throughout the days he’s gone to share with you. he never wants you to feel left out of his life and wants full communication with things. he can send you all the pictures you want of his travels, but nothing beats the actual stories.

✧ he mainly keeps tabs of things he did but will include the members’ shenanigans if he thinks they’ll make you laugh. starts a new list every time he has to leave and each one is dated, the activities labeled for what day and the time gone written at the top.

✧ MATTHEW !

✧ a big chatterbox when it comes to you, especially when it comes to his family. phone calls, messages, will even in emails to relatives, the conversation will drift to you no matter the topic. the only criteria needed for this to happen is for someone to simply breath in his direction.

✧ matthew pivots the conversation so fast that it gives his family whiplash. they aren’t complaining though; it’s nice to see him so happy and they can tell just how much he cares about your relationship. he wants them to love you as much as he does and by telling them these fond memories, he’s sure they will.

✧ TAERAE !

✧ the silly man he is, taerae will send you selfie updates throughout the day of where he is. you could probably make and sell your own bootleg, limited edition, taerae of zb1 pcs with how many you get from him. from walks to the company building to convenience store runs, he’s always sending you a picture of when he leaves to when he arrives at the destination as a way of assurance he’s safe.

✧ stores all of these in a folder labeled “for yn and yn only” and refuses to post them publicly, no matter how good you tell him some of them are. the background settings of his photos are always interesting. sometimes the members will be there, sometimes it’s while he’s in a storage closet. it’s funny until you wake up to find selfies of him at mcdonalds at 4 am with a handful of chicken nuggets shoved in his mouth.

✧ RICKY !

✧ spoils you so much. he knows that love doesn’t mean the amount of money you spend on someone but he can’t help but buy trinkets that remind him of you. the thought process is basically just: “oh. this kind of looks like yn.” and proceeds to checkout with a ditto keychain. ricky pays close attention to what type of accessories you tend to wear and prefer for this very reason. if your ears are pierced, you’ll find a new pair waiting for you on your desk that look eerily similar to his… like what? nooooo he totally didn’t go and buy subtle matching stuff pfttt nah- ok yes. please wear it; coordinate matching outfits with him.

✧ also, don’t bother asking for the prices of these things. he’ll never tell you because he knows that you’ll pay him back and he doesn’t want that. he doesn’t expect anything back and wants to make sure that you understand that he wants to do these things. you also probably won’t want to know because oof scary.

✧ GYUVIN !

✧ omfg he will abuse voice memo privileges to hell and back in order to let you in on dumb jokes and random thoughts. gyuvin constantly has his phone close within his reach just because of this so that he never misses the chance to blow your mind with… whatever falls from his mouth. even when in bed. the voice memos range from “i love you so much i don’t know what i’d do without you” to “did you know you are always within three meters of a spider?”. you never know if you’ll be swooning or sleeping with one eye open with these.

✧ the worst ones come at night for sure; he’ll wake up suddenly, blindly search for his phone, string together a weird ass sentence that only he’d be able to decipher, send it, then knock himself out again and sleep without remorse for his actions. he should be paying for your icloud with how much storage he clogs with those messages.

✧ GUNWOOK !

✧ he’s classically cheesy in a way and sends you screenshotted song lyrics that describe his feelings or remind him of you. “#LiterallyUs” and it’s paper rings by taylor swift. can be unserious about it though. one time, you couldn’t hang out with him because of exams and he responded with “tell me why / ain’t nothin but a heartache”.

✧ there are times where gunwook will not only send the lyrics, but also a clip of him singing that certain part of the song. he mainly sends these versions at night from the bathroom, and you wonder how none of the others have stormed into the room and told him to shut up.

^ . _ . ^ !? told myself to take it easy and not post again this week but um... this is a heavily edited fic from my old blog @/luvjiun that ive been meaning to repost. hehe ok junjun out >_&lt;

© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.

[microcosmicheart]

A Message from Your Secret Admirer

*rubs hands together evilly because I'm nosy*

1 2 3 4

Pile 1

- It’s taking Forever to get your cards! - This person could be methodical in their thought or way of speaking - They want this shit to stay a secret 😭 - I feel like once I get the message some of you may know exactly who it is.

Hey. I feel like some rest would do you good. Get enough and a lot of it. Need to see your pretty face again soon, happy and healthy. How’s that thing going? The one you didn't tell me about, but I heard second hand? I know you'll do great. Also, a bit of personal info: I’ve been a bit stunted when it comes to relationships, something I’m workin’ on. But I’m making a comeback, all thanks to you. I'll be asking you out sometime soon, I’ve just gotta talk to you first 😭. See ya later,

- This person thinks you are SO attractive literally all of you. The way you think, how you dress, your smile! They got it for you BAD

Pile 2

- Just turned on Candy Pop by TWICE 😭 Read the lyrics! - Keep hearing bubblegum? Like the word. Like they’re “gummy” or “chewy” - This is my LGBTQ+ pile - They are not shy at ALL

Hey! So you remember how you came to our group asking for advice on something? I say go against the grain! You’ve played it safe your whole life and quite frankly so have the people in our group. There’s nothing a little looking and leaping won't fix! I'm getting the sense that one of the things you admire about me is my courage to be me? Guess what, I see the same thing in you! I understand that this'll be a big step for you, and I’d like to tell you to take your sweet time! Also, if you ask me, I'll say yes ☺️. Love you,

- TWICE and ITZY (kpop groups) may be very important to this person  - They also may love bunnies/rabbits - You also could actually be interested in this person

Pile 3

- Lowkey by NIKI - This person drinks - This person WILL be asking you out soon 😭 - They aren’t even gonna ask for much but they’re willing to give you their all (be kind!)

You want it? I got it. You need me? I’m THERE. Honest to god I’m tryna love you the way you deserve. You know I can make it happen, whatever it is. I’m bein so forreal. You ma ONE. Like dis is it. I gotchu forreal just let me show you.

- They are ON IT. - Honestly I’m not even seeing this as a secret, but I don't think you're understanding the extent of this person's love, hence the message. - Y'all's cards are amazing 😭 Like they are real life in love with you I hear them going “I’m sayin corny shit like I feel COMPLETE 😭” - Your heart is safe with them fr, have fun 💕

Pile 4

Literally getting not a damn thing outta this person they probably don’t speak often let alone to you 😭

Hey Love. I see you're still doing your best recovering from that *curseword in another language*. I still find you quite beautiful. This isn't what I’ve come to say though. I ask simply that each day you grow more and more selfish. I’d love to see you obsessed with yourself. A compact in your hand and gloss on your lips, ignoring those you don't wish to speak to. I wish to see you shine authentically, should you choose to, of course. I know you’ve got it in you. Love,

- Awwww - Their energy is so gentle and calm  - You guys could work in healthcare - They’ve got a fatass crush on you and are 100% certain you aren't going to ever find out.

[slvtforfiction]

Hiii!! Since you made a NSFW of Johnnie guilbert could you do a SFW of him? Btw I love your work sm!!❤️

Sfw Alphabet

☆ I’m assuming you mean a sfw alphabet?

☆ If not please request again :)

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post

A = Affection

(How do they show affection)

His love language is definitely gift giving,if you mention once that you like a bracelet,he’s got it.

Christmas and birthdays are the best with him considering he notices every minor detail about what you like and don’t like.

B = Best friend

(What would they be like as a friend before the relationship)

Before the relationship Johnnie is a little awkward,he fell first and you fell harder. He’s still the same except he showers you in gifts,is a little more physical with you and more awkward than he is when he gets into the relationship.

Everyone but you can notice that he also has a crush on you,you regularly spoke to Jake about it who always replied with “Ask him out,he likes you.” In different variations.

C = Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddles,in fact he loves for them. He would definitely cuddle you with your legs over his,your chest on his head.

He lives for cuddles with you,after filming or simply just living all he wants to do is cuddle up with you and watch something in the background.

D = Domestic

(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He definitely wants to settle down with you eventually,has obsessively thought about proposing to you after a year in the relationship.

He is immediately very domestic in the relationship and enjoys little things with you. He immediately treats you like his wife with princess treatment.

E = Entrance

(How are they like at the beginning of the relationship)

He’s still slightly awkward but he’s a lot less awkward with you than he was,you’d have to be more dominant in the relationship until he gets more comfortable with you.

F = Fiance(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s very comfortable with committed relationships and would honestly think about proposing to you,he wouldn’t propose until you had been together for at least 5+ years.

He does talk to you about it quite a bit though and often comments about it just to test the waters and see how you feel about it.

G = Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He would never even think about hurting you,physically or emotionally. It hurts a part of himself too,to even think about laying a hand on you or saying cruel words to/about you.

H = Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs,the same as he does cuddles. He loves hugs and he lives for hugs with you. Usually he hugs you throughout the day as a way of showing his affection whilst also not wanting to create any tension between who he/you’re with at the time.

I = I love you

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

He definitely wants to say it immediately. It always in the back of his mind and the tip of his tongue but he never said it until you were dating for around 2 months. He didn’t want to scare you off and therefore waited longer than he wanted.

J = Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn’t get jealous per se but he does stare daggers into the person who thought it was a good idea to talk to you.

He doesn’t get jealous per se but he does need the random-guy-chatting-you-up-at-the-bar to know that you belong to him.

He doesn’t get jealous per se,but he’s extremely jealous. He rarely shows it but will make it entirely known once it’s just you two alone.

K = Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses,whether short or long,is passion filled as well as love filled. His kisses describe the way he feels about you and he makes it a point to express his feelings through kisses when he can’t express them through words.

He loves kissing you on your forehead/lips because he thinks it’s more affectionate than anywhere else. This also says the same about his preferences,loves forehead kisses and small pecks on the lips.

L = Little ones

(How are they around children?)

Although he says he hates children,children are drawn to him and it may show a bit of his softer side :).

He’s honestly one of the best person with kids,even though he swears by hating them. He knows how to talk to them,he knows what to say and what not to.

M = Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

You wake up to find Johnnie splayed out on your chest most mornings,he’s a big cuddler and will find any excuse to have his arms around you.

Sometimes (at least once a week) he’ll get up early to make you breakfast in bed which you pay back by making him breakfast in bed later in the week :).

N = Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

Big cuddler,he loves to have his arms wrapped around you or vis versa. He definitely barely takes up any of the bed,he makes himself small on purpose to give you more room (even though he ends up cuddled up to you).

O = Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He will casually mention really random things about himself throughout the relationship,I mean you’ll be cuddled up and watching a movie and he’ll just say something like “You know once in middle school-“

P = Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

He has all the patience for you,he never wants to hurt you emotionally or physically by yelling at you and so he would have a lot of patience.

If he begins to lose his patience he would ask for sometime alone so he doesn’t shout etc.

But no matter what he wouldn’t physically harm you intentionally,he wouldn’t hit you etc.

Q = Quizzes

(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything you tell him,even in passing. Your favourite colour is purple? He knows. How? You told him while you were half asleep,cuddled up to his chest on one week after you got together.

He remembers almost anything you tell him,he tries his hardest to remember anything you tell him,even if he has to write it down somewhere just in case.

R = Remember

(What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Definitely a cuddler,so his favourite moment between you two would be cuddling up on the couch and watching a movie together. He’s ordered your favourite food and drinks and you two are more than likely to fall asleep together on the sofa.

S = Security

(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He would protect you as much as he can but let’s be honest,he’s a skinny boy with little jealousy. He would definitely protect you from random creeps at a bar,random men in the street and if you were alone he’d come and pick you up but I don’t think he’d ever get in a physical fight.

T = Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Every single anniversary,date,gift or even everyday tasks is thoughtful and planned. He would never disappoint you and he would make sure all occasions are memorable and special to the both of you.

He tries his hardest in your relationship no matter what the situation were to be and he’s always making sure that your happy :).

U = Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Definitely picks his fingers,like picks the corners of his cuticles etc. You make sure to stop him when you can and he rarely does it again.

He doesn’t pick up quickly on social cues,you would have to basically spell it out for him for him to understand and even then he wouldn’t really understand.

V = Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t care what other people think,he rarely cares what you think if he’s honest.

If you don’t like a shirt he has he will still wear it but he will note down that it’s not your favourite thing he owns and will not wear it as often.

W = Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He and his friends note how his actions are a lot different without you there,as if he feels lost without you to guide him. He feels incomplete without you,as if he had forgotten something at home.

X = Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

He definitely will come home with an animal one day that he’s adopted without your full permission (he didn’t even ask you.) bonus points if it’s a cat.

Y = Yuck

(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn’t want their partner to be unhygienic so if you have mental health problems that stop you from being hygienic he will fully support that and help you.

There’s nothing that he sees as an immediate dealbreaker as long as he can help you through it he will.

Z = Zzz

(What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He definitely starfishes like his whole body across the mattress type of thing. He’s not particularly experienced in relationships so he wouldn’t have to deal with sharing a bed often and therefore his sleep habits haven’t changed since he’s been a kid.

Therefore he will try his hardest to only take up his half of the bed but don’t count on it.

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Boyfriend Experience - Part 1 / 2

5.6k words of Rooster being your super pretend boyfriend! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it. 

"I don't see why you just don't take Rooster," Natasha muttered, nodding in his direction next to Payback at the bar, both animated, arms describing manoeuvres like excited little boys. "You guys are friends, he likes food, he obviously likes beer. Probably likes 'em if they're free too," she shrugged as if it was the simplest thing going around.

"Why would Rooster be remotely bothered to be my plus one to a wedding where he doesn't know anyone?"

"You'd be there, you said your sister and her husband are going too. There are three people he knows," she said simply. "He's single and an easy lay. Could be the perfect twofer for you."

"Natasha," you chastised her. "I don't want to sleep with Rooster."

"You've got two eyes," she hinted. "Everyone wants to sleep with Rooster."

"Then you sleep with him," you winked.

"Don't let Hangman hear your jokes," she snickered. "I cannot imagine the carry-on if he does," she looked over your shoulder to him at the darts. Bullseye, each and every time.

"Okay, okay. But look, I've known Rooster since I was a toddler, trust me. Not everyone wants to sleep with Rooster."

"If he knew you were the exception, he'd probably want to remedy that," she smiled as you rolled your eyes, sipping your drink.

"This wedding has just rolled around too quickly. I thought I'd find a way to get a date by now."

"Why did you accept a plus one then?"

"I think I answered a little too flippantly when asked if I needed one..." you admitted with a shrug. "Christa asked in one of those obnoxious, curious teasing voices, 'Are you going to bring a plus one?'"

"I hate those bitches."

"Yeah," you dipped your finger into the froth of your drink and put it to your mouth thoughtfully. "I'm tragic," you announced with a flourish.

"You're not tragic," Natasha said. "We just need to get you back in the game."

"Ew."

"Rooster is still an option."

"Why, in God's name, are you pushing Rooster?" you had to ask.

"He's a nice guy, you could do worse."

Looking across the bar, you asked, "Mickey still dating that girl?"

"Mickey, really?" she asked surprised.

"His smile is perfect. I mean, perfect."

"His dad is a dentist," she told you knowingly.

"There you go," you cracked a smile. "Option?"

"Nope, he is still dating her."

"Shit."

"Look, I'll go ask Rooster. Worst he can say is no..." before you could hiss at her to quit it, she was ducking and weaving through bodies towards him. You watched from your vantage point at the pool table and sighed dismally.  

"Exactly. He can say no," you muttered to yourself, your gaze glued to your drink. Looking up and watching this car crash unfold would be brutal. You could not remember a time you'd ever been more embarrassed.

Natasha squeezed in between her friends as she began to state your case. You peeked a look at Rooster, his eyebrow piqued in interest as he tried to follow her explanation. Eventually, his gaze peered over at you, biting back a very humoured grin. Giving her his attention back, he pulled his beer bottle to his lips and nodded with a nonchalant shrug. Okay, that wasn't a terrible result but also you had no idea what she threw on the table and you were almost scared of the stipulations Rooster may've agreed to.

Payback looked up at you and gave you a 'wtf' face. "What's he got that I don't?" he called across the bar as Natasha pushed him back on his barstool.

"This wasn't my idea," you defended yourself. "Natasha Trace a lunatic."

"Certified crazy," Rooster raised his beer to you.

"That's Lt. Certified Crazy, thank you," she said. "And I got you a date. Get off my ass!"

"I'm sorry, Rooster," you said apologetically as he motioned you over with a wave of his bottle. He certainly didn't appear too perturbed. Grabbing your purse and glass, you made your way to him.

"Me too," Payback mumbled. "We'd be so hot."

"Maybe next time?" you said apologetically.

"I bet you say that to all the boys," he said, faux sadness on his handsome features as he brightened and toasted you. No hard feelings, thank goodness.

"She actually doesn't," Natasha spoke up. "That's why she is in this mess. You literally don't say yes to any dudes."

"You can trash me after I leave," you reminded her thoughtfully, finishing your drink. Dammit.

"I got it," Rooster turned back to Penny, raised your glass to her with a quiet 'please?' and got off his stool, gently holding your side and guiding you onto it. She nodded back to him, while the bar was fairly quiet tonight, she was still serving others. "How did you get yourself in this pickle anyway?" Rooster had to ask. "This is the kind of thing that only happens in rom-coms," he still seemed to be getting off as "fake boyfriend" in your waking nightmare as a bridesmaid for an old high school friend. You honestly hadn't expected to be asked, you'd all gone your separate ways since then, but apparently, your friend had thought the friendship was still strong enough to count you as one of her eight bridesmaids. You weren't sure you had eight girlfriends to even consider something so ludicrous.

"Oh, it's way more embarrassing than it sounds," you admitted.

"I've heard this part already," Natasha announced. "Payback, feel like getting duped twice tonight?" she asked, heading over to the pool table. He shrugged and followed her willingly.

"Look, this is a lot. You don't have to do this if you don't want to," you told Rooster. "Regardless of what Natasha may've threatened you with."

"She didn't have to threaten me," he said and eased his lean frame back against the bar. "It's cool. I'm in town. I don't have to wear my dress whites though, do I?" he asked, a little begrudgingly.

"Oh, God no!" you exclaimed. "It's formal."

"I have a suit," he reassured you, his lips quirking. "Been a while since I wore it though. I was probably in high school," he reckoned, considering it.

"You were a little smaller then," you gently reminded him.

He nodded and hummed. "Thank you for noticing," he joked as you rolled your eyes, laughing, and he adjusted the collar of his silky Hawaiian shirt, ego placated for a moment. His shirts were so him, but gee, they were hideous. You always knew when the girls were talking about him because there would always be a hint in the description of his outfit. It happened a lot. The local girls loved Rooster, and from his reputation, he loved them just as much.

But in the end, he was just a nice guy, a really lovely guy. Friendly, funny when you least expected it, reserved and loyal to a fault but you'd known him so long to consider him anything else. A few years older, when you were kids, you were lumped together with the other juniors. He lost his dad so young (he'd admitted once or twice he didn't have many memories of him anymore) and his mother moved them away, closer to her family for the support of losing Goose and to help to raise Bradley away from the influence of the Navy. He came back to the Island when he was about 18 after his mother had passed. Base was home, but he'd flit in and out of Grandpa's house occasionally. Viper always had a soft spot for Bradley, and always kept a protective eye on him, especially after his fallout with Maverick.

Rooster, while his career progression was slow compared to those his age, was always earmarked to be one of the best.

His rapid progression through the ranks wasn't a huge surprise to anyone. He wanted to make anyone who stood in his way regret their actions, especially Mav, and show them that he was ready, willing and able to be the 1%. But the resentment for how his career was delayed when Mav pulled his papers to the Naval Academy, and remember a night with Rooster in tears as your grandpa tried to appease him and his rage for Mav's actions, had stayed.

"I hope you don't need a new suit," you told him dismally. "I don't want you having to spend anything - "

"Fake girlfriend," he cut you off, teasingly. "If I need a new suit, which I likely will, it's okay," he reassured you. "And it's probably about time, can't rely on the Navy to dress me for the rest of my life," he passed you the drink Penny had made you. "What's that?"

"Sloe Gin Fizz."

"Oh, you're one of those fancy girls," he nodded with a squint. "My imaginary bank account is gonna take a hit, isn't it?" You smiled as he smiled too, finally cracking and relaxing. "You're nervous," he noted.

"What gave it away?" you offered him a sip and he happily tried it. Licking the sweetness off his moustache, he gave you a 50/50 response.

"Don't be nervous. We've known each other far too long to be nervous around each other."

"It's not that, I just kind of wish I didn't accept a plus one and then wouldn't have had to go the stupid lengths to cover my ass."

"Let's just treat it as a bit of fun," Rooster suggested. "If it blows, we come back here and get drunk with people we like."

"Thanks, Roost."

He raised his glass to you. "You're welcome. So... am I allowed to get any phone numbers?"

Caught off guard, the plan was starting to unravel quickly as you noticed Rooster catch the eye of a pretty blonde near the jukebox. "Umm, yeah. Of course!"

He laughed and shook his head. "I'm kidding. I'll be the perfect fake date. No one's gonna know."

Those words would come to haunt you.

At Wedding Central the next weekend, you absent-mindedly played with your phone while chaos ensued around you. You had nothing to be concerned over, your hair and make-up were done, your dress was steamed, and you wouldn't change until everyone else was ready. Rooster had texted a moment ago and you were considering how to respond. ‘I'll see you at the reception - it's still cool I can miss the wedding, right? I won't be later than 7pm. I have to get to the gym, my body is crippled after training today.’

Your heart sank, you'd been fielding questions about him all day, you depended on him to be there tonight. 'Of course'. You texted back diplomatically. You were being ditched for lactic acid build-up, but knew it could be worse if he didn't try and work it off before have arrived... if he arrived at all.

Bradley 🐓: Just give me time to workout real quick, shower and change. I did all the other beautifying yesterday. I'll knock your friend's socks off, I promise. Maybe even yours.

You: It's all good, Rooster. I'll see you when I see you.

Bradley 🐓: I can try and escape earlier?

You: Don't be silly. It's all a bit mad here, hair, make-up, not enough champagne 🥂

Bradley 🐓: Try and have fun! Talk me up, play the game. I'll see you tonight.

"Are you sure he's still coming?" one of the bridesmaids asked as you had just been seated at the reception table. You traced the nameplate reading 'Bradley' and kind of wanted the earth to swallow you whole. It was a little after seven and entrees were starting to be served. It was a fair question, Rooster didn't owe you anything and he could ditch you at any time.

"Excuse me, gentleman, I caught the eye of a really cute bridesmaid before - " you heard a familiar rasp say behind you and you stiffened. He'd finally made it. Turning to that voice you'd know anywhere, you gave him a gentle smile. "Think I've found her," he added, patting the chest of some random dude and striding towards you, walking like he was on a runway. He looked incredible, so different from his usual jeans and shirt, so different from any flight suit. He moved towards you in a dark blue crushed velvet suit jacket, a darker shade of slim leg slacks, a black bow tie and dress shoes. His hair was slicked back, neater than usual, maybe even shorter. "Well, you look beautiful," he smiled fondly and leaned down to kiss you lightly on the corner of your mouth, surprising you. He murmured against your ear and only quiet enough for you to hear, "I know that was a lot, I'm sorry if I took it too far. I'm late, but I'm here now," he paused. "I'm not gonna let you down, okay?"

He gently cupped your chin, his thumb grazing your cheek. That kiss, you were finding it hard to shake off... "You look like a Disney prince," you said before you realised it was supposed to be a thought. His eyes shone with humour as he took his seat beside you, resting an arm on the back of your chair.

He creased into an easy laugh. "Not the look I was going for, not with this god awful mug, but I'll happily take it. Do I have to catch up, have you had a few drinks?" he teased.

"A champagne before the ceremony. Just foot in mouth right now," you touched the material on his lapel and smiled. Soft, so unlike Rooster. If he was anyone else's date tonight, you'd hardly have recognised him. "You look very handsome, Rooster."

"Thank you," he shrugged, a little anxious himself. "Your dress is no way as miserable as you described," his eyes pleasantly drifted over you, he wasn't trying to make you nervous or under his gaze, but to him, you looked spectacular. "You look amazing. Bet you've been fending off dudes all day."

You scoffed, shaking your head as he chuckled quietly. Hearing your name and being dragged out of your little bubble, you looked up as one of the other bridesmaids, single she'd repeatedly broadcasted, nodded towards Rooster. "Are you going to introduce us?"

Rooster introduced himself to some of the other bridesmaids and their partners, his knuckles grazing your back as he made small talk for a while, winning them all over instantly... just like you knew he would.

"It's nice out here," Rooster said a while later. You had just finished dinner and were wandering outside for some fresh air, enjoying the warm breeze under the stars at a small cocktail table among other couples. Little fairy lights dotted the area and tea lights adorned the table and bar. "You relaxing a little now?" He asked as a waiter stopped past with champagne. He nabbed two. He handed you one and gave you a gentle cheer. "You're doing great. You look really beautiful," he admitted again. It wasn't a secret you'd always been a little easy on the eyes. Rooster was always a little perplexed you'd never found the right person and settle down. He knew you'd had boyfriends on and off but Natasha had made a passing comment about you being a bit of a commitmentphobic, and he'd be lying to think it hadn't stuck with him.

You smiled. "You mean in this dress that me and seven of my closest friends in high school who I haven't spoken to since we went to college are all wearing in varying styles?"

"Well, you're wearing it well," he corrected himself, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm okay," he said. "Look, I'm sorry about the kiss before. I thought it would be fun to grandstand and get everyone off your back for a while. Probably should have been a bit more considerate, not cool on my behalf."

"It worked," you laughed, sipping your champagne. "It's fine, really."

"Fine?" he replied, a little surprised. "Shit, that's disappointing."

Panicking, you added, "No, really. It was great. I bet you're a great kisser, Rooster."

He smiled and again, you knew he was goading you. "For the record, I've had no complaints," he raised his pointed finger. "That I'm aware of."

You gave him a wide grin. "I'm sure you haven't. You're absolutely loving this, aren't you?"

He laughed boldly now, easing back in his chair. "Well, yeah. But I'm on your side, I promise. Gotta make it believable. I think we're doing okay to now?"

"I think so. Think Michelle is into you?"

"Who's Michelle?" he squinted, trying to recollect.

"The brunette who was salivating over you as soon as you came to the table."

He laughed, smoothing his moustache. "Oh yeah, she's definitely keen. Up for a rumble for my honour?"

"Honour?" you repeated. "I think we all know those days are behind you."

"Ouch," he smiled, touching your knee. "We've discussed this, I'm here for you and only you. Michelle isn't my type anyway."

"What's wrong with her?" you challenged.

"Well, I'm here with you and she's making no secret that she's into me. What kind of girl does that?"

"One that probably doesn't see me as a threat," you figured with a shrug. He sighed, pursing his lips together.

"You're full of it, you're the hottest girl in there, whether you see it or not. And besides, I only have eyes for you, kid," he sat forward and took your hand, squeezing it tenderly. "You and me, okay?"

"Okay," you told him, his pep talk giving you some warmth.

Sipping his champagne, he asked, "Wanna know something?"

"What's that?"

"I am not a champagne guy," he made a face, putting the glass on the table, away from him as you giggled quietly. "Do you mind if I go and get a whiskey?"

"You're mad, this is tears from the gods," you told him as he cupped your cheek affectionately and wandered over to the bar. He stood tall against the other guys he was near, and that suit? Gee, it was well worth whatever he spent on it. He looked so sophisticated. Not to get you wrong, you always thought he was the coolest guy going around but he simply didn't give a shit about what he wore, if his Hawaiian shirts were any indication. He didn't care what anyone thought about it. He knew his career was cut-throat and the more you thought about it, you had to realise that Rooster was simply a survivalist. He'd gone through some real pain in his life. He had said that he didn't remember a lot of his dad before he died, but Carole raised her boy well.

"Good Lord, he scrubs up pretty good, huh? Shame he's not wearing his whites," your sister said, waddling over to the table you were standing at, helping herself to the free stool you helped her get on. "But I guess he'd show up the bride."

"He didn't want to wear them. I'm just glad I'm not completely desperate and dateless tonight. He could have worn a potato sack for all I care," you admitted, your gaze still on him as he made small talk with the bartender.

"He'd probably still look really good in a potato sack," she teased, adjusting her posture, her expanding belly not enjoying the far-too-expensive pregnancy dress she'd been forced to buy, coming up to the end of her second pregnancy. "But really, nothing is rumbling? No carnal need to just rip his clothes off and see what happens? Sometimes, cute friends can turn into cute lovers."

"Worry about your current situation," you pointed at her belly.

"Eyes work perfectly fine though. Rooster has grown up very, very well."

"Gee, your hormones are doing a number on you," you told her, biting back a grin. "You're married and pregnant," you reminded her, a little concerned for her husband.

"You'll remember this night one day and be like, 'gee, my older, wiser sister was right, I did want to climb him like a tree'."

"Climb who like a tree?" Rooster asked her, joining you both again, his hand skimming your lower back, leaving its place on your lower back where it had rested comfortably most of the evening. "I'm keen to know myself."

You laughed quietly, your sister a little lost for words at her poor timing. "Yeah, who again?"

Swallowing, she announced, "Look, I'm just going to put it out there. You're both single, you're both cute. This shouldn't be a fake date. This could really be a nice first date."

"I am so sorry, Rooster. She hit her head a lot as a child. And I know this... because I was the one who was pushing her," you told him, absolutely mortified but they both laughed. She finally walked away, satisfied with the chaos she had constructed.

"I mean, Annie's not wrong. We are cute," he figured. "I'm single - I'm sure I could do a lot worse than to date someone I enjoy as much as you."

Groaning, you hated the open mocking. It was all such a joke how pathetic you were.

"I'm just kidding," he whispered. "I know she's just trying to rile you up, don't worry about her. We're here and having a great time, let's just leave it at that. No need for any extra pressure," he raised his glass of whiskey to you. "Just take the night as it comes. And if anyone asks how I am in the sack, I expect you give them an 11/10, okay?"

You raised your glass and told him to fuck himself.

"Fair," he admitted. "Just relax. We're doing great if I say so myself. Stay close; I got you."

If there was one thing you were grateful for that evening, it was the happy couple who had decided on a sweetheart table that sat them together and the bridal party sat with their partners or friends, whomever it seemed to be. You were able to stay close to Rooster for most of the night, especially during the formalities.

"And for the first dance," the MC announced after the speeches and cutting of the cake, "We'd like to introduce our newly betrothed to the dancefloor."

"Come on, come dance with me," your groomsman said, not looking at Rooster as he offered you his hand. You kind of had no choice, the first dance was for the couple and the wedding party usually joined them toward the end, it would be embarrassing for all if you ducked out. You gave Rooster a small 'sorry' which he didn't show the least amount of displeasure to.

"Hold on," he took your other hand and carefully kissed your knuckles. You gave him a small smile, hoping he didn't notice the heat that was blistering through your skin. Gee, Rooster was good. Tonight would surely get everyone off your back, even if for a little while. "Take care of her, buddy," Rooster play-threatened with a wink as the guy gave a 'yeah, whatever' in response. Roster's eyes squared up on the back of the guy as he led you to the dancefloor. Would fucking hate to lay you out, he thought, watching as you were guided into your partner's arms. Sitting forward, Rooster sucked his teeth. He didn't think he liked that guy all that much.

But credit where credit was due, your partner was a good dancer. Respectful as you swayed together to Megan Trainer's ‘Like I'm Gonna Lose You’.

After waiting what he assumed was a reasonable amount of time, Rooster stood to his full height, buttoning his suit jacket and moving with purpose to the dancefloor. He could sense you weren't uncomfortable in the arms of the groomsman you paired with, but he noted other couples were splitting for others and he took his chance. Sweeping in, he stood a considerate distance away. "May I cut in?" he asked as your partner stopped and looked up at him - now, it wasn't to say Rooster was intimidating, but he was certainly asserting himself. "I'd like to have this dance with my girl," he said, the questions over.

"Oh, uhh, sure," your groomsman said, a little perplexed, gently dropping your hand and Rooster stepped in with a smile, silently asking for your hand in his. He brought it to his heart and you'd bet you could feel it pounding under the deep blue crushed velvet of his jacket. He put his other hand on your hip, his thumb finding the right place against the cut out of the dress that he was able to feel your skin as he pulled you flush against him. His body was hard and strong, just as you expected. You smiled up at him as his thumb grazed your skin, telling you he knew, and he was there.

Resting his chin against your hair, he carefully swayed you to the quiet beat of the rhythm. There wasn't much left of the song but he didn't miss a single note as the melody changed and some dance tune commenced.

"Whatcha doing?" your sister's husband asked, as she took a few photos of yourself and Rooster dancing to the wedding song on her phone.

"On their first wedding anniversary, I'm going to present this photo to them and say I was right. And I will be gleeful," she said in false maniacy.

"They look like an actual couple," he admitted. "He's good for her. He could protect her, love her."

"They'd be good for each other. Rooster needs someone he can be himself with. No bravado, no pretences, someone to make a life, maybe a family, with. And she won't take any of his shit."

"Definitely not," he laughed, as the song ended and they watch you and Rooster look at each other with gentle smiles. "Fake dating, my left nut."

Your sister nodded. "Didn't think it could possibly work out this well, but they're just perfect for each other."

"Which one do you think will ruin it though?"

A name long-cursed in your family rolled off your sister's tongue, "The Navy."

"Lt. Bradley Bradshaw, ma'am," he introduced himself, offering his hand to the newly wedded couple later that evening. "Congratulations."

"Oh, you're in the Arm - "

"I'm a Naval Aviator," he corrected her with a smile, but he didn't want to correct her on military ranks tonight.

"Bradley, this is Sarah, who I went to high school with, and her new husband, David," you introduced them.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to the wedding earlier today," he tugged you close to him again, his fingers drawing undescribable shapes on your bare shoulder and you placed your hand on his tummy. He looked down at you with an easy smile. It was the first time you had reciprocated any affection and he'd certainly noticed. "But what a wonderful reception. Everyone seems to be having a great time."

"Oh, thank you," she said. "We're so happy you could come. We are looking forward to seeing more of you, Bradley."

"Me, too," he said, softly.

"So you fly today?" David asked Rooster excitedly.

"Yeah, man," he nodded. "Most days," he replied.

"How many G's you pull?"

Looking up at Rooster, you saw the quirk of his lip. You had watched this once or twice before and it was always kind of hilarious. Dear Rooster had a fanboy... the guys who were kind of obsessed with local pilots and would chat their ears off, desperate to hear all about the firepower mainly to the detriment of the cornered pilot. "Today?" he sipped his whiskey, coolly.

"Sure..." you kind of drowned the rest out, your fingers absently slipping under his jacket and tracing the curves and ridges of his hard-earned, extremely well-worked abdominals underneath. Rooster made a pained face, trying to wriggle away, his hand catching yours and laying it flat against him.

"Hey, sweet girl?" Rooster finally got your attention, eyes dancing with mirth and a small smile on his face. Your friends watched the scene with keen interest, they wanted to see you interact.

"Hmm?" you looked up as he bent down to whisper how ticklish he was. "Oh," you said, bashfully taking your hand away as he clutched it again, keeping it there. Your hand was pressed into his rock-hard stomach and did your tummy... flippity-fucking-flop?

"It's okay," he slid his fingers between yours, interlocking them tight against him. "Your friends just asked how long we've been dating. I said we've known each other for a long time. My old man was in the Navy. You probably know her grandfather was an admiral, so we kind of had always known each other," Rooster said, squeezing your hand. "Always had a little crush on the Admiral's granddaughter. Everyone did! I'm just the lucky one who she gave the time of day."

You shrugged, your cheeks burning, the well-versed plan you'd texted back and forth about the last week coming well into fruition, it was exactly the situation you'd both been waiting for. "Everyone always joked how cute a couple we could be. We just never saw each other like that."

Rooster looked deeply into your eyes. "Clearly we were both crazy. So, we got super drunk, and I kissed her. Luckily," he raised a hand as your friends laughed, utterly charmed by him. "Luckily for me, she didn't slap me. She actually kissed me back. Would have broken my heart if she rejected me," he was so fucking smooth, you chewed back the laughter that threatened to spill from your lips as the bride just stared at Rooster with heart eyes, another unassuming fan of Rooster Bradshaw. "I'm wild about you," he whispered, nuzzling into your neck and you gently cupped his strong jaw, thumb padding against the wiry skin of a scar. While you'd always noticed them, you'd never felt them under your touch. For a moment, you might have believed it as he kissed your jaw, modest but not uncalled for in the moment.

"You two look so happy," your friends told you sincerely.

"We're so glad to have met you, Lieutenant," David said. "Thank you for coming, thank you for bringing him!" he said to you.

No one ever addressed Rooster like that outside of official duties and he almost wanted to grant at ease. But he'd by lying that he didn't feel a bit like a movie star when he replied, "Please," he held out his palm. "Call me Rooster."

"Awesome, Rooster," the couple chatted to Rooster a while longer before Sarah sidled up to you with that glare of someone ready to start digging for dirt. You gave a weak smile, maybe, kind of relaxing in Rooster's arms. You let go of his hands and gently wrapped your arms around his waist and he adjusted his posture to cater to you.

"He's super hot," she said as you looked up at him, the arm that wasn't dipping into the cut on the back of your dress flailing wildly as he graphically discussed a dogfight at training with some 'Texan dick' (of course he's talking about Hangman). So animated and vivid, he never really spoke about his job to you and frankly, you didn't want to ask. But you were just entranced watching him speak so passionately. "So, tell me," she whispered, ushering you closer. "The sex?"

Poor Rooster was too distracted to hear, but his moment was coming. "An eleven," you replied, you massaged his sides still well-hidden under the jacket, and if Rooster wasn't paying attention before... he surely was now. "Twelve on really good nights."

His smile almost ripped his face in half.

"Oh, my God!" Sarah exclaimed. "I can only imagine. His body is crazy like he just pressed weights before he got here."

And it dawned on you - yes, he needed to rip lactic acid after being in a jet all day, cool. But had he worked out to ensure his jacket strained over his biceps? That his straight leg slacks were tight over his thighs? Also, yes. You couldn't help it and snuggled into his chest as he paused to look down at you with a gentle smile and wrapped his other arm around you, his thumb caressing the tendrils at the base of your neck.

It was very believable on all fronts.

"Rooster is very giving," was all you said, pretending to zip your lips, he pressed you just a little closer.

"I'm so damn happy for you. Make sure you keep an eye out when I throw the bouquet, I'll be aiming for you!"

"Please don't," you said before Rooster nudged you to be polite. Nothing had got past him. "There are so many other eligible people here, so desperate to catch it!" you corrected yourself as he nodded, encouraging and congratulating your tact.

"It's early days, I don't think we're ready to get married yet," he teased. "But I'd marry her tomorrow if she wanted me to."

"That is just the sweetest thing," she said. "Ugh, you guys are definitely next!"

So sweet, such bullshit, you looked up at him as he pouted back down, his facade cracking under the pressure of wanting to laugh so fucking hard. It was like selling candy to a baby.

The Boyfriend Experience 2 / 2

masterlist.

[narcissarina]

Hellooo pookie! :D

Could you write a fic about Re2 Leon, like a really lovey dovey one where he's a rookie and he falls in love with his lieutenant or something like that? 🧘

Hello, babyyyy. Yes I could write something like that but I swear I read a similar fanfic about it. And yes it's a leon fanfiction too, but I hope I did well ^^!!!

Here's part 2 if anyones looking for it

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒖𝒕𝒚.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,961 (mf wrote a whole oneshot🥲🥲)

Leon heard that someone transferred to R.P.D, he doesn’t know who nor what rank they are but he reckons that it’s someone with high respect if he see his buddies getting worked up and actually doing something.

The boy had his head bowed in his desk, it’s been just two days when he was warmly welcomed, it was his first day and it was very memorable. His eyes were heavy and almost took a nap when someone slammed a file on to his desk, “wake up, rookie.” One of his co-workers said with a smile on his face.

They all heard a car pulled up, all of them got tense as one of Leon’s buddies kick him out of his chair and stand up. The room was silent and the car engine died, he could see an officer jogging up the small stair and opened a door for a someone.

It was you.

You had a long leathered black coat and wore a sunglasses, the aura you’re giving is dark and intimidating. You take a look around before turning to one of the officers, “This is R.P.D?” you asked, your tone flat and strong. A female officer nodded at your statement and flashes you a smile, “yes, ma’am. Do you like the interior..?”

Leon swore he heard a scoff, “it’s a mess, take that down and you all shouldn’t have bothered decorating, we have a job to do. Chop-chop.” You clapped your hand as the others rushes what they’re doing, the female and male officer led you to your office and made you familiarize around the area.

Heels clicking as they faded quickly to the background, Leon found himself standing idly and frozen when his friend bump into him. “Don’t you have work to do?” he asked Leon in a nervous tone, “I’ve already done my part.” Leon whisper back to his friend.

“If the Lieutenant heard you two whispering and not doing any work, you guys are fucked.” His other friend bothered to turn his head just to warn Leon and the other. Before the black haired guy leaves Leon to do his work, he got a grasp of his arm, “that’s Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Yeah, and if I were you. I wouldn’t make eye contact with her.” He says and left, getting his documents done. Leon was left alone standing beside his desk, he sat and think for a moment.

The moment he caught your eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. Your voice was simply beautiful and angelic to him, is he falling for his Lieutenant thats just new to R.P.D? His thoughts were swirling as he felt his cheeks burning crimson, he feels like a little boy who has a big crush on someone and act like a little puppy.

While you were flipping through files and files, “wrong, wrong, redo.” You mutter, letting the two nervous officer hear your disapproval. “Not enough, now go.” Clicking your fingers together and scoot them away from your sight, you think there is just so much mess in this station and it needs fixing and more organizing.

You lean down to one officer and stare at the monitor, “I need people to patrol this area.” You point to the bottom right of the screen and beside it, “yes, ma’am!” Leon could hear they’re super nervous and scared of you, why? He’s just resting his elbow on top of his desk and resting his cheek with both of his palms.

Your eyes shot to him, thinking to yourself that there’s one officer who’s just chilling and doing nothing, you tap on a random officers shoulder—not bothering what they look like or get their name, “who’s that?” you asked, “oh, that’s Leon. He just started two days ago, a rookie.” You nod at their words and dismiss them.

Heels click and Leon heard them, he tensed up as he felt your presence behind him. The boy slowly turns and looks at you in the eye, maintaining an eye contact which most of the officer couldn’t do. “Rookie?” you called.

He stood up straight and put his heels together, “yes, Lieutenant?” his voice almost squeaked as he spoke, “why am I not seeing you work, Mr. Kennedy?” you knit your brows together but you’re not frowning at him. His heart race as you stood close to him, your arms folded and you shift your weight to your left.

Silence filled the room, it was eerie as the other officers prayed for Leon’s being. He spoke with a nervous smile, “I just finish my part..?” you nod at his words, thinking at the back of your head if this rookie is playing games with you.

You tut his words and let out a sigh, “is that so?” he nods, standing straight as he adjust his uniform. He was intimidated but felt his stomach flutter. “Nope, I heard that excuse before, rookie.”

He swallowed his saliva, his adams apple bobbing as he do so, before you could speak another word—someone cut you off, “ma’am we got a noise complaint…” said a female officer, you nodded and look at him. “You go, rookie. Since you don’t have anything to do.” You flash him back with a smile, he chuckles and salute you, “yes!” before heading off.

Now that you have him gone and run some errands, you got back to exploring the place once more as officers rushes to you to give you their printed document to get approved on.

You never know this, but each day. Leon’s adoration for you grew stronger, you were oblivious to Leon crushing on you. He just felt so warm and fuzzy and he loves it, the way your eyes met his to either scold him for bringing in a wrong document or that there’s errors in his reports—he didn’t mind that, he just loves to hear your voice and your attention to him even if it means he did frequent mistakes.

Gifts also started dropping off on the doorstep of your office, you once asked all of them, “who gifted this to me?” but they all shake their head, not knowing who keeps dropping gifts on your office doorstep. Leon made sure that no one sees him dropping them off though, otherwise he's caught.

He would get to work early so he could drop them off, then watch your face in a frown or confusion as you read the note that was attached. Making you grow curious who is it from.

This continues, and of course. Your nagging continues to Leon, he just grew to love it. He has his head bow on his table, you slam the file down as he flew back to his chair and rub his eyes with his wrist, “listen here, rookie. I don’t tolerate too much mistakes when you’re under my care.” You frown at him, grabbing the two of his armrest and pushed him back to his desk, the others just focused on their work and pretend they didn’t see a thing.

“The file you just turned in? It was good, but too many errors and I need you to redo them, asap.” You grit your teeth but try not to be too intimidating, Leon just looks at you in the eyes with love and adoration, you were cute when you’re mad. You see something in his eyes and sigh, you let go of him and mind your posture.

“Look,” you turn his chair and pushed him back at his desk, open the file he turned in and took a red pen from his desk. “This is fine, but this and this are…” you guide him through this and point out what he needs to do and how he properly does it, surprisingly, he listen to every word you said and nodded each time you asked him, “do you get that?”

It took a minute and Leon didn’t realize that you were leaning over his shoulder. He froze in place and feel his ears and cheek heat up, “I’ll be expecting you to redo this and turn it in, okay?” you spoke to him, finding anything in his eyes but you found none but his adoration for you.

“Leon, I’m not that scary, okay?” you sound like as if you’re talking to a child, “but if there is something that you’re having troubled with, you can come to me and I’ll guide you.” You added and pat his shoulder as you pull yourself together, “do you understand rookie?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He flashes as grin.

“Good boy, now keep up a good work.”

You turn your heels and walked away, returning to your office and plan things here and there. Leon blushes and lightly slam his forehead against his desk and brush his fingertips against his shoulder—where you were almost brushing against him.

He was too zoned out about you calling him a good boy as he earned a hard slap on his back, “g— fuck!” he curses and put his hand where it hurts and stings, “ow?!” he faces his buddies as they sat next to him, “the Lieutenants into you.” One spoke with a donut in hand, “I mean, why wouldn’t you go after her. She had a whole cake packing.”

“what cake?”

You just earned two screams and yelp from the two officers beside Leon, “Lieutenant…” his friend from the right swallows his saliva while the other put the whole donut inside his mouth, “do you two have cake? I would love to have one.” You hum, raising an eyebrow as you await for their response.

“N-No, n-no ca—”

“We just finished eating it, sorry we didn’t gave you one, Lieutenant.”

Leon saw a sad frown planted on your face but manage to keep your cool back, “it’s all right, I hope the cake you two ate is Red Velvet,” you nod at them, Leon open his mouth and asked, “is red velvet your favorite?” your attention to the blonde boy, “yes it is, now focus on your report Mr. Kennedy.”

And with that, you walked away again.

After that conversation, Leon got better at handing you his reports and documents—once he was assured that he can turn to you without having trouble to make up some mistakes to have a reason for your attention, he’ll ask for your help and feel your chest at the back of his head. When he does a good job, you praise him and give him a pinch in the cheek which you grew accustomed on.

Leon looked forward every time your hand made contact with his face, either giving him a pinch or gently pat. He’s so god damn in love that he’ll cover up your murder for you if you ever murder someone…

He wants more though, he wants to be able to hold your hand, grab you by the waist or bury his head on the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent that he'll grew to love. He was a puppy in love, you noticed his behavior and made him run errands for you: getting you your coffee, driving to your favorite café to get your favorite snacks.

You noticed how much he acts like a puppy when with you, but when he’s with his co-workers nor friends. He is chill and could look at them in the eye and hold conversation, but with you? He’s a stuttering mess and couldn’t hold eye contact for more than five minutes.

You waited him to make his move, you step inside the station as you were greeted with three officers inside as they always arrived early. Leon is having his nap to his cubicle, he looks so peaceful and unbothered by the bright light inside the station.

Your heels clicked and wall to your officer and dangle your key, you feel eyes on you as you quickly turn your head and catch a glimpse of Leon eyeing on you then quickly bow his head to his desk and pretend to be napping. You look down at the ground on cue as if you knew there will be another gift for you.

It was a red velvet cake, didn’t you just say that you love red velvet a few days ago with Leon’s friends?

You took it in and place it in your desk, Leon was watching and chuckling to himself like a kid that’s been falling hard.

Few hours later.

The station became busy again for the day, Leon is doing the best he can to help his co-workers with papers when they need him to double-check the files they’d be turning in. Since they all knew that Leon hasn’t been scolded for these fast few weeks. They wouldn’t be dealing with your intimidating remark and can handle Leon’s kind and soft words.

“oh no, you need to change this.” He points to the mistake that the female officer has, then another file was shoved in to his face. “This is good but this seems unnecessary.” He circles around the thing that needs to be removed in the males officers report.

Leon was packed with officers and files in his desk, someone taps his shoulder, “Lieutenant wishes to see you in her office.” Then walked off, they all look defeated and sulk at the sudden need of the Lieutenant to Leon.

A smile flashes to his face and stood up, “thank you,” he said and hold back his excitement when he walks towards your office door, he knocks and waited. “Come in,” and he did.

“Quite packed, huh?” you remark, looking up at him as you held the small cake in your hand and a spoon to the other, “they’re approaching you rather me,” you said and sliced a piece and ate it.

“It was… fine.” Leon said and closes the door behind him, “you need me for something, ma’am?”

“oh no, I just got made an excuse to get you away from the crowd.”

This made Leon smile as you were considerate to him, “although, I do need to clarify something.” You gesture to him to sit on the chair, he sat and tense up.

“Yes?”

“Were you the one who’s been dropping gifts on my office doorstep lately?”

His heart dropped, his heart race and he looked down. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Leon, I installed a small camera on the door, I literally saw you putting down the cake and getting all giggly when you put the note in.”

Ah, he was caught. He got no more excuses so he confess, “yes… I did…” he mutter, he looks like a dejected puppy that’s going to get his punishment, “don’t you like them?”

“it’s cute and all, but you’re getting distracted from work, honey.” You lift his chin to make him look at you in the eyes, the pet name craved at the back of his head—your hand touching his chin, good god he’s fucking melting right under your touch.

The sight made you smile as you put the pieces together, “your reports and files that you turn in are quite an improvement, there are no mistakes nor unnecessary things in them.” You could imagine him having a tail and wiggling it when you praises his works, mostly importantly—praise him.

“You did good today, haven’t you?” you teased him, you could feel him tremble under your touch, “been a good boy too, helping his co-workers because they don’t want to face a big and mean Lieutenant.” You act as if you were literally talking to a child when Leon is a grown ass man.

His nails digging to his knees and nodded, “not mean…” he mutters, “what’s that?” you grab a hold of his chin and made him look at you directly, “You’re not mean, you’re lovely…” Leon mutter and you squish his cheeks together, you hum at his words and sat down to your desk.

“Is mr. Kennedy confessing?”

You tease him, as he holds himself back. Your thumb caressing his cheek and pushing a strand of hair out of his face. He grit his teeth and couldn’t hold himself back, you were caught off guard when he quickly got up from his sit and pushed you back to your desk and bury himself on the crook of your neck. Finally inhaling your scent and melt on top of you.

You two were silent as you pat him in the back, “good boy.” God that two words definitely made him melt more as you mistake it that he’s wagging his tail like an excited dog. “Want you…” you heard him, his lips brushing against your ear as he looks up at you and brush his nose to yours as he leans in to kiss your lips.

You didn’t resist and kissed back, your hand gripping on to his shoulder and the other on his bicep. He held you by the waist, you didn’t knew his hands would be massive too, he’s melting to everything. Your lips, your touch, your voice, everything. He is worshipping the ground you’re standing.

“not today,” you stopped him as he pulled himself from your lips, he sulks and looks like a sad little puppy that didn’t get his treat. “Not until you finally proved yourself to me, Leon.” You hum, cupping his cheek and pinching it again.

He smiles and nodded, saying he’d do everything to prove himself to you—you don’t know how much he’ll pour his entire soul to love you and please you and fit to your standard. He never thought that his silent affection would come to this, but it did and it worked.

He's yours and he’s going to do his best to make you his.

OK OK OK, I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT!??!?!??! It turned out like an office romance lol. I HOPE I DID WELL!!! Reblogs and asks are appreciated <33