#from.🍒

[mwphisto]

Sylus plans your birthday out down to the very last detail. And I mean the very last.

Your day was filled with all of your favorite things, from the arcade to your favorite stores, cafes for sweet treats, and your favorite restaurant for dinner.

Sylus bought you more gifts on top of the things he had already purchased for you, just happy to see you smile. Plus, he was finding it oddly cute that you’d get shy asking him for certain things. As if he’d ever say no.

“It’s your birthday, kitten. Pick whatever you want.”

Still, it took two more stores for you to finally stop giving him a little glance each time you dropped something in the basket. Sylus could tell you were being mindful not to over consume but still treating yourself how he intended you to.

Sylus would drain his bank account — it would take a damn long time but still — if it meant seeing you smile the way you were smiling, that little sparkle in your eye as you uttered little thank yous with a skip in your step.

What Sylus couldn’t wait for was what came later.

He kicked the twins out for the night. He got your favorite desert for your birthday celebration, and he had every intention of eating that damn dessert off of your body.

It wouldn’t be your birthday if he didn’t take hours to worship every single inch of you. To sing you the praises you so throughly deserve, and make you feel as good as you make him feel every goddamn day.

You, his sweet little kitten, the other half of his soul. You deserved every ounce of love that he could provide you. And dammit, he was going it make it happen.

[chrrybbmb]

𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ; lifeguard!j. jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader

summary : jungkook loves calling you his dumb lil baby, always so pretty and perfect for him. he loves how you willingly let him take you anywhere, anytime. but he especially loves when you go dumb on his dick.

warnings : nsfw, mean dom!jk, edging, overstim, thigh riding, p in v, unprotected sex, semi – public sex, degradation, dacryphilia.

wc : 1.1k

days like today were jungkook's favourite. days when you'd come and visit him at work in those cute little swimsuits, and bat your lashes innocently at him and ask "how's work koo? wanted to come 'nd visit you."

when the two of you would sit by the pool and talk about your day — you absolutely refusing to swim, since it would ruin your mascara, and you came to see him anyway.

other girls would give you looks, dirty looks, but they'd fly over your head and you'd simply smile and wave at them. he loved hearing you talk, eyes focused on your glossy lips.

you'd happily talk about anything and everything, and jungkook would happily listen. sometimes he'd try and coax you into the pool, but you'd adamantly decline.

"don't wanna swim," you'd whine, resting your head on his shoulder. "just wanna spend time with my boyfriend 'nd talk while sitting on the side of pool."

as you were now, looking at him with your doe eyes. "my makeup took to long, koo. i don't wanna ruin it after tryna look good for you. then it'd be a waste of time."

he smiles, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss and messing up the gloss you'd applied so carefully to your lips. "i think you look gorgeous with ruined make up, baby." he leans in, kissing up against the shell of your ear and nipping gently at the skin. "i can even ruin it for you, if you like."

you pout, or try to, trying to push him off you. "but kooki~!" you whine, gasping quietly when he begins to suck at your neck. "you always do this.. at some point you need to start fixing it for me. not everyone is gonna think i look pretty with ruined make up."

"who gives a shit about what people think," he'd groan into your nape, biting harshly and marking you up.

and you know as well as he does that you can't say no to him. so you let him drag you to the bathrooms and pull you into an empty stall, mouths pressing together feverishly as his hands sink down to your tits.

his tits.

in a flash your bikini top — that honestly was so skimpy it wasn't there to begin with — is tossed away somewhere, and his hands are kneading your breasts, nipples between his fingers. you moan into his mouth, grinding your hot sex onto his thigh.

"so needy, thought you didn't want this," he murmurs, but he doesn't stop you from grinding. instead he smirks, quickly sitting himself on the toilet seat and positioning you on his thigh. "get yourself off, baby. wanna see how needy you are."

your hips move on their own, grinding your clothed clothed heat against his bare thigh, shorts pulled up just enough for you to rut against the exposed skin. your eyes shut in pleasure and you moan quietly, gradually humping this thigh.

jungkook huffs, hands on your waist as he forces you to quicken your pace. you cry out at the sudden surge of friction, but the boy only scoffs in response.

"how's my dumb lil bitch supposed to feel good of she's moving her hips so slow, huh?" you simply moan in response, and jungkook slips in a finger between your folds. "you're so fucking wet. thought my pretty baby didn't want this? does my lil whore want to stop?"

you sob loudly, shaking your head as you grind against his fingers and his thigh. it's all too much, but you don't want to stop. jungkook just chuckles. "words, baby. or my dumb bitch feeling to good, huh? haven't even done anything and you're all fucked out."

you whine, nodding as you call out his name. his fingers retreat, instead finding place in your mouth. "since you aren't using that mouth, let's put it good use." you suck intently, jungkook's free hand kneading your ass.

you don't know how long you've been grinding onto him for, but eventually enough is enough and you can feel your orgasm on the horizon. it's so close, and you babble as such, repeatedly moaning around jungkook's fingers.

and just as you feel it coming, it's ripped away when jungkook's grip on your waist tightens, other hand flying down as well, preventing you from moving your hips any more. fat tears roll down your face as you whine into his neck, desperately bucking your hips to try and get some friction. "k-koo, please..mwanna cum, was so close!"

he hums, thinking it over for a moment, before he's forcing your hips to start moving again. it feels as though everything's on fire, heat surging through your body as your cunt messily drools all over jungkook's bare thigh.

your face is wet with tears as you feel your high approach for a second time, moans coming out high pitched and broken. jungkook loves you like this, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss.

you're close once more, whining into his mouth as you feverishly buck your hips. it's coming, coming, and then..

it's gone again.

you're choking and hiccuping, jungkook pressing his lips to your tear stained cheeks. "poor dumb baby," he coos. "wanna cum? you'll only cum if it's in my cock, babe, so you better beg for me to fuck you."

you don't say anything for a moment, before your broken, whiny voice reaches jungkook's ears. "please? i wanna— i need to cum! wanna g–go all dumb on your— on your cock! please~!"

if you were paying attention, and your eyes weren't so blurred with tears, you'd have noticed jungkook pulling at his shorts just enough to free his aching cock. catching the skin of your neck between his teeth, he pushes your bikini bottoms to the side and slams himself into you.

he's sure everyone in seoul heard you scream his name when he did.

he's pumping steadily in and out of you, kissing away your tears as you cry on top of him, moaning his name over and over like a broken record.

you cum way before he does, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you did so. but jungkook doesn't stop, relishing in your slurred begs for him to "stop. s'too much! can't do it!"

he doesn't listen, thrusting fluidly into your fluttering hole, groaning loudly into your neck as his cock begins to twitch inside you. "gonna cum sweetheart. wanna cum inside my dumb baby's lil cunt. can i cum in you, baby?"

you nod limply, sobbing into his neck as he lets himself go inside of you, warm spurts of cum filling you up. only then, when he's fully released his load, does jungkook finally let you rest.

you're still slurring and babbling, jungkook kissing your forehead and trying to calm you down, cooing softly. "you're alright baby, you're alright. so pretty when you cry, but it's done now, okay?"

he loved making you his dumb little baby, but he'd always take care of you after as you whimpered into his chest.

[feelrush]

you can now have a long life with her. be happy together. with a lot of smiles.

byeon woo-seok as ryu sun-jae, LOVELY RUNNER (2024)

[kimmie2me]

Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!Reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

[kr1s-png]

PISSGOAT CUDDLING

Pb, the cat, is Cherri🍒 ‘s character

AAAAHH I’m happy with how this one ended up, as you may have seen in my stories on TikTok, I kinda got obsessed drawing over here😭 I’m not going to abandon traditional art, tho, not at all. I’ll probably only do digital for more elaborated posts and/or pieces LOL

Anyway SOMEBODY SEDATE MEEEEE THESE MFS ARE LIVING RENT FREE IN MY HEAD

[satoruly]

𝘿𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙋 .ᐟ.ᐟ

costumes that the jjk men would wear for halloween

includes. toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami

tags/warnings. fluff, no curse!au, i like to think gojo's is a college au too, suggestive, mentions of oral in toji's, gojo is called a slut (jokingly), fake blood.

a/n. i love satoru i swear and suguru's is so cheesy idk if i cringe or not idc i think he's lovely. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

got a request? click here !!

𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻 '𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁' 𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆 ₊˚⊹ 𝘁. 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼

“I look ridiculous.”

“I bet you don’t,” you spoke from where you sat on the bed, legs crisscrossed as you waited for your boyfriend to come out from the bathroom “Just show me”

He had taken longer than you thought to get ready, longer than you had, but in retrospect, you guess you should’ve seen it coming with the amount of belts you had handed to him and no instructions to work with, you guess it was really on you. 

“This was a mistake.” He mumbled through pursed lips once he came out, looking off to the side, his slightly overgrown hair obscuring his eyes. Without the vest and belt, it was practically an everyday outfit for him, a navy blue hoodie with a pair of blue cargo pants. The latter did differ from his day-to-day wear but it was okay, he was gonna wear his New Balance sneakers once you were ready to leave so it cancelled out. 

“I want to suck your dick so bad right now.” 

“I look like a glorified back-pack”

“Where did you learn the word glorified?” You joked, though only half-heartily because you were too busy staring at your boyfriend’s thighs concealed by not only way too tight pants but by very tight garters. You wished he would keep them on the daily. Luckily though, your primitive brain had no completely taken over and so you were able to process his lack of response to your off-handed blow job proposition.

“Im wearing kneepads like a fucking loser.” He raised his knee to emphasize his point, letting his foot rest on the ottoman at the end of the bed and practically throwing the skeleton mask you hadn’t noticed he had been holding on top of the covers. 

You stood up, gave him a once look over and walked towards him cupping his face with your palms. One of your thumbs rubbed the skin of his cheek now coated by a very subtle pink, one you’d only be able to notice if you squinted. 

“You don’t look like a loser, personally I think you look very very hot,” you assured him, “but if you really don’t like it you don’t have to wear it, we can find something else for Satoru’s party.”

He huffed, unconsciously leaning against the warmth of your palms, eyebrows still twisted into a frown. “It’s not that, just— you’d really suck me off dressed like this?”

You hummed, giving him a light peck on the lips before trailing your hands down his chest, ignoring the plate carrier that bulked him up more than he already was. 

“Like now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, the usual sultriness it carried back where it was meant to be.

“Depends,” you pondered, biting back a smile at the suggestiveness. “How long ‘till we have to leave?”

He cursed at the number of pockets he had to go through before finding his phone stashed on the back of his pants, eagerly examining the time and then showing the lit-up screen to you. “Like 30 minutes.”

“Then sure,” you looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as you undid his utility belt, letting it fall to the floor before slowly working to unzip his pants. “I’ll be quick."

𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼

“I was gonna buy the tights but the imprint of my d—”

“Okay! We are changing the subject…” You almost slapped your palm over your boyfriend’s mouth before he could continue. Successfully [stopping] Shoko and Utahime from hearing the not-so-safe-for-work details of your costume shopping trip.

Looking back, it was kind of funny. Satoru wasn’t all that fond of superheroes but one singular video of a hot guy on his fyp was more than enough to convince him he was willing to commit to the transformation. In reality, you’re sure he just wanted to wear the tights. That's why he almost cried when all the ones at the costume shop turned out too small to cover his ankles.

He had tried his best to make it work but to no avail and had settled instead for a black pair of cargo pants, and though they weren’t the classic Nightwing tights he had envisioned, you swore they were so much better.

“It’s nice,” Shoko pointed out, taking a drag of her cigarette, directly juxtaposing her surgeon costume. The scrubs and lab coat she wore were likely taken from the faculty of medicine last minute. “Thought you’d use Halloween as an excuse to dress up sluttier though.”

His offended gasp almost made you burst out laughing, the hand you had used to shut him up still muffling his dramatics.

“Oh, he’s a slut alright.” You joked, now resting your hand on his chest and taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile as your boyfriend decided to run with your joke.

“Yeah exactly,” he chuckled, leaning against your head and smushing his cheek in the process and circling one of his arms around your waist. He couldn’t spend a single moment not touching you, and though you played tough, you couldn’t help but lean against his touch every single time. “It’s the energy.”

And it sure was. Even if his current costume was way more tame than the bunny boy one he had chosen last year, he was still giving ‘slut’.

Although you were quick to shut down his previous comment, you’d be lying if you said the mildly accurate costume didn’t do things to you. For one, props to him for making progress at the gym. The loose material stretched out over his thighs every time he made the slightest flexing motion. Sitting, standing, going up the stairs, no matter what he did was a sight for sore eyes. Then, you had the compression long-sleeved he wore. Though it technically was a “costume” and not a compression shirt, it still hugged his arms and chest so deliciously you swore you could moan. 

And of course, how could you forget about his ass. 

“And what are you supposed to be?” Utahime asked, looking at your pleated pants, loose light blue shirt with most of the top buttons undone, and a pair of sunglasses.

“A slut.” You shrugged, enjoying their confusion until it finally clicked.

“You’re dressed as him!”

𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼

“Nope, we need another one.” 

Suguru groaned in dismay, so close to banging his head against the door frame as you rejected yet another costume you had suggested, or more so, insisted he should wear. At this point of the day, he was sure his skin was sore from the constant friction of multiple garments’ fabrics. 

“Why? I think this one’s good.”

You tilted your head, looking him up and down before pursing your lips. You won't deny he looked good. He always looked good. But, “We’re going to a costume party.”

“So? This is a costume.” 

“Yeah but…” You trailed off, wondering if he’d take personal offense for the comment you were about to make regarding his fashion sense. “It kinda just looks like you.”

Now it was time for him to tilt his head in confusion, squinting at you as if to prompt you to elaborate and you sighed before continuing, “Besides the boots, actually, no, you do use those, it's pretty much a normal outfit for you.”

He looked down at himself, eyes meticulously scanning every inch of his body to then look up at you. “I’ve never worn a poet shirt before.”

“But the vibe,” you pointed at him up and down with your hand, “is there.”

“What vibe? Suguru Geto from the 19th century?”

“Ish? Yeah.” You agreed, standing in front of him to fix the collar of his shirt. “You look like you belong in a romanticism painting minus the high-waisted pants, which fyi make your ass look great.”

He chuckled, turning around to stand in front of the full-body mirror next to your vanity to check himself out, subtly taking a peak at his ass. It did look really good in those pants.

“Let me try the necklace and you can decide.” He grabbed the thin chain and gave it to you for help. Holding his hair up, he couldn’t yet again chuckle at the reflection as you tried to stand up on your tip toes to hook the clasp around his neck. 

It added some depth, he thought. The white shirt and black pants combo was something he would wear. The added jewellery made it look a little less like him, but the matching earrings were still missing.

“—and I know what you’re thinking, so I got these.” 

You stretched your palm in front of him, a pair of new gauges resting on it. Unlike his, they weren’t black, more so a pale golden color. 

“They match the color of the necklace and if you want to wear the earrings you can loop them through there.” You pointed out, and upon closer inspection, once he held them in his hands, he could see there was a little hole at the bottom of them. “But you can also not wear them if you don’t wanna, thought it'd be a nice detail.”

“I thought you weren’t sure about the costume,” he kissed the top of your head, mumbling ‘thank you’, and carefully slipped off the ones he was wearing. The way you beamed as he started doing so didn’t you escape him, and it made him all the more eager to try them on even if they felt cold against his skin and were out of his comfort zone. He had never really been a fan of gold on himself.

“Eh, I might’ve been more committed than I let on.” You hugged his waist, looking at him through the mirror as he grabbed Howl’s dangly earrings. He looked pretty. “What do you think? Looks good?”

He hummed, shaking his head slightly and chuckling at the earrings swishing against his skin. He wasn’t used to wearing those, it felt funny. “It’s still missing something though.”

“What’s missing?” You asked as he moved fully in front of you. He pressed his thumb in the middle of your furrowed brows before kissing your forehead and then giving you a quick pick on the lips.

“The matching promise rings.”

𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝗸. 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶

“You’ve always wanted to murder your coworkers, now you can pretend you have!”

“I’m never wearing this outfit again.”

“See! You can even make the references, it’s perfect.”

But you had to give it to him, it would be much more of a costume if he wasn’t wearing a suit that closely resembled what he used to wear for work. A fitted black suit, a crisp, freshly ironed shirt and a red tie, everything covered up by a transparent raincoat. And to be fair, the plastic did make a funny noise whenever he walked. 

The only missing piece of the costume was the blood, which led you to where you were, standing over old newspapers in case you stained the kitchen floor. 

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” He shook his head as you walked around him with a bottle of fake blood, excitedly pouring the runny liquid into strategic places for it to look organic like he had actually killed someone. He wasn’t a Halloween nor a dress-up fanatic per se, but the promise of a good costume party had set you off into a never-ending search for the perfect costume until you had finally settled on one. The perfect one.

You nodded at his words, carefully creating a couple of splotches with a paintbrush before you could finally admire your masterpiece. “Now the only thing we are missing is your face?”

“Pardon?”

“We gotta put some blood on your face.” You said sitting up on the counter, careful not to knock down the FX makeup kit you had gotten. Making space between your legs, you pulled him from his belt loops towards you, and automatically, his hands positioned themselves right on top of your hips. Without you needing to tell him, he leaned closer to you, lowering his height just enough for you to reach his face properly.

“That was not part of our deal.” Yet, he stayed as still as possible as you used a smaller dropper to carefully apply the liquid to his temple close to his hairline. 

“Close your eyes.” He did as you said, and you proceeded to imitate the splotches without staining his whole face, just his forehead and cheeks. Some of it dripped down his eyebrow and towards his eye, but you caught it fast enough for it to not stain his lashes. Hopefully, that’d be the only ‘liability’ you’d experience for the night, you really didn’t want his shirt to stain. “And we are done!”

You grabbed your phone and turned on your front camera for him to look at himself.

“What do you think?”

He stared at his reflection for a couple of seconds trying to figure out if he liked it or not. While he did so, he couldn’t help but subtly flicker from you back to him a couple of times, looking at your eyes creasing in excitement. The warm smile on your lips was contagious, the way you scrunched your nose when he kissed your forehead as if scared he’d get ‘blood’ on you too cute, and so he couldn’t help the gentler one that appeared on his. 

“I like it a lot.”

© all works belong to satoruly

[asteroidaffliction]

guess i’m just obsessed with you

[stunie]

Umemiya is also my favorite! He’s just too perfect for words. I love how sweet and kind he is, and I feel like he would be a soft and generous lover. But I think he also has a dominant side that pokes out every now and then. Just enough to keep things spicy in the bedroom.

Sorry, I just love him so much.

-🍒

i think that side of him would show up the most when you’re acting shy or bratty. sometimes you get a little nervous when he’s nestled so eagerly between your legs to eat you out- because his eyes are always focused on you. he gets up close, looks at your cunt and watches the way it eagerly flutters in anticipation, and his gaze will only flicker up towards you to take in the way you’re peering down at him through wide eyes and such a cute expression.

but he’s always so patient with you. his hands are gentle when they come to pry your arms off your face once again, along with another soft remember to not hide from him— he wants to see your face. he’s just gotta see you come undone on his mouth, doesn’t wanna miss it, so you gotta stop doing that, okay?

a couple more reminders and his hands are finally coming to interlace with yours, your arms pinned to your side and you know good and well that you’re not gonna be able to nudge them even an inch. and sure, he’s just holding your hand, but you know it’s a kind warning to stop hiding and start behaving.

as soon as you’re gushing all over his face and he gets his fill, he’s looming over your figure again, his hands never leaving your own. he’s burying his cock deep inside you, mumbling praise and sweet words in your ear like usual, except now he’s pinning your arms above your head so that he can get a clear look at your face— as well as the way your tits have started bouncing with each roll of his hips.

[mwphisto]

There is something so thrilling about trying to be quiet.

Something that urges Caleb to work harder, move faster, push the limits. Until you have no choice but to bite him to break him out of his trance before you really do get caught.

Grandma Josephine is right down the hall, after all. How shameful would it be if she caught her two adoptive children naked in the other’s bed.

But, for Caleb? That was part of the appeal. Some twisted part of his mind wanted to get caught by the old lady. And judging by the way you always found yourself in this position? You found the risk appealing too.

Your semester had come to an end, now you could spend the summer months in Linkon. Caleb’s training had also gone on break, giving him roughly a month before he needed to return to Skyhaven for more grueling work.

Two months apart… of course you two were jumping at the chance to be alone. Bidding grandma Josephine an early good night — y’know, the traveling was so exhausting that neither of you could wait to collapse in bed.

…yeah, okay.

God, Caleb wasn’t sure how he managed to contain himself from pouncing on you at the train station.

Hell, he just may have if Josephine hadn’t been accompanying you on the platform.

Given the amount of eye contact and silent conversations passed between the two of you? You weren’t doing much better. So much so that you and Caleb ended up in the front seat with a clueless Josephine in the back.

One hand on the wheel, the other sneakily resting on your bare thigh. Calloused fingers inching up…up…up…and— “Caleb, dear. How has training been?” Oh fuck off!

Some way, somehow, you two survived — barely.

Only thirty minutes after pretending to go to bed, you were slipping out of your bedroom window and shuffling along the slanted roof to tap on Caleb’s.

Everything from there was a bit of a blur. Hands and teeth, lips searing into your skin and then melding to your own. The familiar taste of Caleb, sticky sweet like the apple juice gran had bought just for him. How you had missed it so dearly over the last two months. Dreamt of it.

“Ah, ah… don’t try and hide.”

Somehow, you had gotten here. All clothing shed and discarded around his bedroom floor.

Your back pressed to his broad chest, your legs spread so wide it nearly hurt. You couldn’t close them if you wanted to, Caleb’s much larger ones slung over them and braced on the sheets so you were trapped by his body instead.

Perfectly spread out for him, all his to you and play with. The thought had him twitching against your back, smearing more sticky precum between heated skin.

His hands were both occupied, one roughly playing with your breast, the other running two fingers between slick folds. “You’re so soft, pip. Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy.” You had half the mind left to complain about him saying he just missed your cunt, but all the came out was a whimper.

Still, Caleb knew. Somehow he always did.

“And…” a kiss on your cheek, his nose nuzzling it a second later. “…of course I missed you.” His fingers pressed to your entrance, heat radiating and slick leaking. The pressure made you groan, hips weakly jerking forward yet the bastard had yet to slip them in. Just toying with you and you were completely drenched. It was humiliating.

“You’re not gonna return the favor?” Caleb’s voice was a warm whisper against your ear, his fingers rubbing up against your entrance, just barely slipping inside. “Wha…?” But you understood when he began to chuckle.

“Tell me how much you missed me, pip. And maybe you’ll get what you’re looking for.” Your cunt was aching too much for you to dare put up a fight. “I missed you so much Caleb…” a shuddering breath leaves you as his fingers slid back up to circle your clit. Just enough friction—

“I-I slept in your shirts until they smelt more like me than you… my roommate kept prying y’kn-oh-ow…” your entire body shivered at the pleasure that zapped up your spine. “Kept wanting to meet you, I told her you were a pilot and she was s-swooning…” God you were getting drunk off the pleasure and he had barely done anything.

“…so proud you’re all mine, Caleb.”

You nearly screamed as he plunged two fingers inside of your wet heat, the hand that had been groping your breast slapped over your mouth to successfully muffle it.

Caleb’s thrusts were unrelenting, fingers pounding into your cunt at such a speed your entire body was arching and squirming. Your hips were restless, legs attempting to snap shut as the pleasure was overwhelming.

Caleb’s legs stopped you, his breathing ragged at the sound of wet squelching. His fingers were hitting all the right spots, massaging your walls until you felt your arousal leaking out and down towards the sheets below.

Every thrust had the heel of his palm smacking your clit, shaking almost violently with the intensity of his movements. You swore you tasted blood as you bit down on your lip, nails digging into his forearm.

“You’re such a good girl, y’know that? This pretty pussy is taking my fingers so well even after months apart…” you couldn’t focus, not mentally or physically. Your eyes blurring as the tether pulled tighter and tighter.

You nearly feared the orgasm that was approaching you, already overwhelmed by the pleasure of Caleb finger fucking you. “Gonna cum all over my fingers?” The sounds were obscene at this point, so wet that you swore it was echoing off of his walls. “Y-yes!”

It was just a little too loud, and Caleb had been so distracted by the warmth encompassing his hand that he didn’t think to quiet you. “Sweetie? Caleb honey? Is everything alright?” Everything froze, from your heart beating to Caleb’s fingers in your cunt.

“I thought you two went to bed… you know you don’t have to sneak around if you want to hang out.” The doorknob jiggled, luckily Caleb had half the mind to lock it before. “Sorry Gran…” you somehow recovered faster.

“Finally won against Caleb… got a little too excited.” Slowly, you guided his hands into moving again. “She’s lost three rounds.” Caleb added, smiling against your skin as your walls suctioned to his fingers. “Just don’t stay up too late.”

You both acknowledged her with a good night, faces burning with embarrassment at nearly getting caught. What if Caleb hadn’t locked the door?

“Someone got too excited.”

He’s biting your ear, hand resuming their brutal pace and before you know it, you’re coming all over his fingers with his other hand pressed to your throat. You couldn’t get a sound out if you wanted too now.

The bedding is ruined, and Caleb doesn’t seem to care one bit. His fingers restarting their mission to get you to squirt again. This time, a third finger slipped in.

“Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock. It’s been a few months, can’t risk hurting ya.”

[acekindaneat]

I don't want this to end.

A cute little date scene that I really liked from the fic The Big Woo by @tinkertoysdamn !!!!!

[chrrybbmb]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ; perv!k. taehyung x fem!reader

summary : taehyung loves you, so much. when he misses you, he'll steal a pair of your panties from the laundry basket and jerk himself with it whilst his nose is buried in another. he pretends it's his pretty girl's pussy; and if you catch him, even better.

warnings : nsfw (MDNI), caught masturbating, p in v, unprotected sex, pretty perv taehyung <33

wc : 692

taehyung loved you. he loved inviting himself over whilst you were away — whether it was for study, work or any other activities. he tells himself he should be with you, supporting you, like a good boyfriend should. but once he makes himself comfy in your sheets, completely engulfed by your scent, he can't compel himself to leave.

at some point he starts getting ansty, hyper aware of the twitch in his pants. your smell clouds his mind, his hips slowly bucking up into the air. it gets too much for him, too overwhelming and too sweet.

his hand must have slipped, that's what he tells himself when one pair of your panties is he tightly in his hand whilst he fists his cock, moaning and whining while he sniffs another.

it wasn't his fault. couldn't be. it was your fault. your fault he was a whiny, pathetic mess. your fault his drippy, needy cock weeped all over your sheets while he got himself off to the thought of you.

you whose name is on taehyung's lips as he lies in your bed, dreaming about tasting you, feeling you, as he fucks his fist like an animal. 

he's so close, so close, panting and crying out for you. then the door swings open, and he's certain he cums there and then at the sight of you, his pretty little baby.

“tae?” the question falls innocently from your lips, and he whines when you blink those gorgeous lashes at him. “are those– are those my..?”

you step closer towards him, and he moans, never once ceasing the pleasure on his cock. “fuck.. need you baby. wanna pump your lil cunt with my cum.” he looks at you, pretty lips swollen from how hard he was biting. “please let me fuck you baby.”

the moan that falls from his lips is so lewd you can't help the blush dusting your cheeks. “wanna fuck me?” you whisper as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. taehyung nods frantically, craning his neck to try and capture your lips in a kiss.

tongues and teeth clash. the kiss is messy, taehyung pulling you into his lap as he gently squeezes your ass, kissing you even deeper. his hand finds your skirt, quickly bunching it up at your waist and pushing your lace to the side.

you’re flipped before you know it, taehyung moving down to suck lightly at your neck. you can feel his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit. one of his huge hands is spread across the expanse of your stomach and taehyung feels a sick rush of power as traces the skin slowly.

“gonna fill you up. watch your lil tum swell.”  he groans low and gives a quick rut of his cock between your folds. you keen at the feeling and squirm, trying to push yourself back onto him. “fucking missed you, baby.” 

“yeah?” you pant, voice breathless and needy. “please, tae, don’t wait. please—” 

his hand comes down on your ass before you can finish your sentence and your whole body jolts as your words are broken by a sharp moan. taehyung doesn't waste anymore time before he's inside you, head in the crook of your neck as he sucks harshly at the skin.

he's whining and panting and bucking needily into your messy, drooling cunt, his tip kissing that spot that has you seeing stars. you're sure he's moaning loader than you are, thrusting sloppily into you.

“fuuck.. ways take me so well. i wanna cum, wanna cum so deep inside you.” his hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples as he cries into your neck. “m'gonna cum babe. gonna let me cum in that pretty pussy? please?”

he doesn't wait for your to answer when he does, cock drooling and coating your walls with his hot load. his hand drifts from your chest to your stomach, feeling as he unloads himself inside you. you come undone shortly after, taehyung weeping as he moans your name over and over.

he always missed you, and he loves knowing that you'll always make it up to him.

[kuroosatoru]

Hi!

I had an idea of modernbf!Sukuna x reader where he's like the definition of male YearningTM, and yet he calls us clingy. Something romantic and fluffy( and maybe an NSFW cut it you're feeling it)

oh funnn! i got u <3

pretty girl - modern!sukuna x fem!reader

cw: fluff, nsfw(again), light bondage, degradation, size kink lol

wordcount: 963, not proofread too well

nsfw after the cut

sukuna let out a deep laugh as he grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him, his cologne overtaking your senses. "you don't have to look so sad beautiful, i'll only be gone for a week."

you've just found out sukuna has to go away on a work trip, and to say you're not upset would be a lie. it's not that the two of you were codependent, but you did love being around each other more than anything else. despite the universe working against you constantly, the two of you have made it work so far.

sukuna has to fly in and out of the city quite often due to his job, but when he's not working, he's usually always with you, catering to your every whim. he's your stereotype secret softie, his brash exterior contrasted by how far he would go for you.

"i know how clingy you are-" he starts, taking you away from reminiscing. "excuse me sir, i'm the clingy one? you're the one who can't go a week without getting me a gift just because it made you think of me," you jeer back at him playfully.

after a rough day of getting dragged through the ringer by your clients, you get home and can't help but miss sukuna's presence. you lock your door and eventually notice the scattered rose petals leading to your bedroom after taking your coat off. you hurriedly rush to the end of the trail to your bedroom.

to your surprise, there's a gift and a card on your bed. it's a slender box and it doesn't have much weight to it, so you open it cautiously, knowing sukuna was up to no good. inside of the box there's a red two-piece lingerie set with intricate lace and stockings with garters. confused on how this ended up on your bed, you open up the card that was with the box.

'for my pretty girl- s'

"do you like it?" he nervously asks, walking through your bedroom door. you can't help but jump up when you see him, rushing into his arms you kiss him fervently. "oh baby i absolutely love it!" you exclaim with a smile, "what are you doing here? i thought you wouldn't be back for a few days?"

"we finished early and mostly everyone else stayed on the beach, but i had to come home because i needed to see you." he says, kissing you back.

-

the two of you are now getting ready for dinner and you decide to put on the set sukuna got you a couple of days ago. you're quick to put your dress on, making sure to not let sukuna see just yet.

"hey sweetheart, are you ready to go now?" sukuna asks as you put your shoes on. you nod and sukuna takes your hand, leading you outside to his car where yet another giftbox is waiting for you, this time it's a smaller box with black wrap and a deep red bow.

'what is this?" you ask, your hands tearing the gift wrap. sukuna smirks as you take the tie out of the box, "oh i think you know my love." you start to feel your heart race as sukuna whispers in your ear, "i can't wait to have fun with you later, my pretty girl. it's not fair i haven't been able to get you to myself since i've been back." he's right, it's not fair, and you've been teasing him since he got back, "you're in for a treat." he says as he pulls into the restaurant's parking lot.

-

sukuna pulls his car into your driveway and lets you out of the car, picking you up. you wrap your legs around his waist, your underwear slightly peeking out and your hands grip his thick biceps, his heavy frame practically twice your size. in fact, the first time the two of you had sex, you could barely walk for days.

his lips meet yours in a feverish kiss, his teeth biting at your bottom lip, begging to have more of you as he gets the two of you into the door. sukuna pins you against the door as you unbutton his dress shirt hurriedly, excited to finally have him inside of you again.

sukuna places you down on the couch gently as he takes your shoes off for you, tossing them to the floor. you reach for his pants to take them off but he stops you, "not yet, pretty girl, as much as i want you, there's still something i need to do." he says, kissing you roughly as he reaches for the tie he got you, "turn around." he commands as you put your hands behind your back. he takes your hands in his, kissing the back of them before he ties your wrists together, "that's not too tight, is it?" you shake your head as he unzips your dress, allowing it to fall to the ground, "good. now get on your knees, pretty girl."

the air was tense as you hesitated, his large frame towering over you. "oh baby, you dont need to be bad. i thought you'd be a good girl." you moan as he turns you around himself and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you even closer to him, "now, get on your knees. and don't make me say it again."

you finally listen and get on your knees as he unzips his pants, as he takes his long, thick cock out. you instinctively open your mouth as he gently puts his dick into your mouth, letting out a moan as you begin to suck on the tip, 'fuck, i missed you so much, y/n. look at my pretty girl. what a sweet little cockwhore."

notes: ive thought about this a lot if you can't tell. hope u enjoy xoxo

[kimmie2me]

HEYYY I LUV UR POSTS LIKE HELLO?!?! also im sure u know abt the bakugo hc with him with him having hearing aids and is it ok of u make like a fic with him signing nasty stuff to reader cuz he can and nobody around them fully learned sign language yet? PLS AND THANK U!!! 💕💕💕

first of all, THANK YOU!! ILYSM!! second, i am BACK!!!! exams went well, i guess. i didnt PASS or FAIL, but whatever.. third, I LOVE THIS IDEA HAHAHHA!!! here is, what I think, a great welcoming back gift to give u all ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ (ignore that Kaminari's text is blue..there's no yellow. ALSO, mina is NAWT taking pink. thats OUR color now.)

Of Silence and Secrets

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Reader

…..

Bakugou Katsuki hated his hearing aids.

Hated how they fit, hated how they felt, and most of all, hated what they represented. Weakness. A crack in the armor he’d spent his entire life forging. When the ringing in his ears started as a brat in middle school, he didn’t think much of it. Just the fallout from a quirk-boosted explosion, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Years passed. The ringing grew into dull hums, muffled voices, and missed sounds. A villain’s retreating taunt he couldn’t catch. The screech of a car he didn’t hear. Kirishima shouting his name three times before Bakugou finally turned around, snarling, “What the hell do you want!?” while Kirishima just looked… worried.

His hearing aids were a damn nuisance. At least, that’s what he told himself every single day.

They whined if someone got too close, buzzed when he adjusted them wrong, and gods forbid he so much as grazed them during a fight—one hard knock, and they’d go flying. He could hear again, sure, but better hearing came at a price: realizing just how insufferably loud the world actually was. Katsuki had spent months in denial, refusing to accept that his ears, like the rest of his high-octane life, couldn’t keep up with him.

The ringing had started in his late teens, growing louder until it followed him everywhere. He blamed it on the explosions, the debris, the constant yelling—but really, he knew. His mom did too, though she’d spared him the lecture until the day Kirishima cornered him in his agency office with a sheepish grin and her voice on speakerphone.

“Katsuki.” The way she said his name—sharp, biting, and so unlike her usual bark of “Oi, you brat!”—made his stomach drop. “What if somethin’ happens? What if you miss an evac order or—hell—a cry for help? Hah? What then?”

“… Tch.” He had scowled so hard it hurt. “Fine. I’ll get the damn things.”

The intervention was humiliating, but the worst part? She was right. He hated that more than anything.

That was the first night he slept with the hearing aids sitting on the nightstand. He’d finally picked them up after a year of constant badgering—from his mom, Kirishima, hell, even that damn Deku. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear better—it was the admission that killed him.

But now? Now the stupid things were glued to him. Mostly.

The tech was incredible, of course. Damn nerds at Hero Support had outdone themselves. The hearing aids didn’t just amplify sound; they filtered it, isolating voices during chaos and syncing with comm units. They were waterproof, explosion-proof—Bakugou-proof. Allegedly.

But they weren’t indestructible. He’d broken five pairs in six months. Kaminari had nicknamed him “Break-aid” after the third replacement. Bakugou threatened to shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

And yet… they worked. Too well.

He could hear the scratch of pens during hero conferences, the obnoxious tapping of Kaminari’s foot against the table, the quiet sigh of his own breath. The worst part? The incessant talking. It was everywhere. Fans, reporters, civilians—people who thought their every word needed an audience.

Thankfully, he’d discovered the mute button.

The first time he used it, Kaminari was midway through a rant about his latest gadget. Bakugou, in a rare moment of self-control, didn’t yell. He just flicked the switch, leaned back in his chair, and smirked as Kaminari kept babbling. No explosions, no shouting, just blissful silence.

But there were downsides.

Combat was a nightmare when they broke. Shouting “HUH!?” every five seconds wasn’t exactly strategic. That’s when he decided to learn sign language. Not because anyone suggested it—hell no. But because he’d be damned if he relied on a gadget to do his job.

The process was… frustrating. Hands clumsy, movements stiff. Kirishima tried to help, but his signs were barely legible. Kaminari? Useless. Sero was too busy laughing to be much better or resorted to typing in the Notes app on his phone when it was pretty serious. Deku? That nerd had picked it up in a week, naturally.

But you? You made it bearable.

“Like this,” you’d said, your fingers forming a perfect sign. “Thumb tucked in.”

Bakugou grumbled, but copied you.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, ’Suki?”

Your patience annoyed him almost as much as it calmed him. And somehow, over weeks of practice, his stiff movements turned fluid. He’d never admit it, but he liked having this… language, this connection, with you.

And then he realized something else.

You understood him. Not just the signs, but him. The sharpness he couldn’t quite soften, the quiet gratitude he couldn’t voice. And better yet? No one else around him could understand a damn thing he was saying.

It started innocently enough—well, innocent by his standards.

“Bored out of my goddamn mind,” he’d signed at you during a hero conference.

You’d smirked and replied, “Same.”

But then, Bakugou being Bakugou, had an epiphany: he could sign anything.

The first time he tried it, you were sitting across from him at a formal hero banquet. The room was filled with pro heroes, reporters, and politicians. Everyone was dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and pretending the world wasn’t on fire outside.

Bakugou caught your eye and, with the most deadpan expression, signed: Wanna fuck?

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly knocked your glass over. You choked, coughing into your hand, and when someone asked if you were okay, you waved them off, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, sipping his water like he hadn’t just propositioned you in a room full of Japan’s elite.

…..

It got worse.

During a meeting with the Hero Public Safety Commission, while a bureaucrat droned on about policy changes, Bakugou’s hands moved under the table. He made sure you were looking before signing: I’d rather have you ride me than sit here with these extras.

You froze mid-note, the pen slipping from your fingers. Your face burned as you ducked your head, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. Across the room, Kirishima noticed your sudden movement.

“Hey, you good?” he whispered.

“Fine!” you squeaked, glaring at Bakugou.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, then casually leaned back in his chair. He looked so smug you wanted to scream.

At a press conference, surrounded by the press corps, TV cameras, and the elite of the hero world, Bakugou stood stiffly at the podium, bored out of his skull. Beside him, you shuffled the note cards you’d prepared, doing your best to stay focused on Midoriya’s answer to a question about villain reform strategies.

Bakugou glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how focused you looked. That only made the idea pop into his head faster. He adjusted his stance, one hand casually coming up to rub his neck as the other signed with precision:

I’d fuck you so hard over this podium, the microphones would short out.

Your brain stalled like a computer blue-screening. The cards slipped from your hands, scattering onto the stage floor. You froze in horror as a sea of reporters looked up from their notebooks.

Midoriya, ever the anxious public speaker, stopped mid-sentence. “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Just... clumsy!” you stammered, dropping to your knees to collect the cards. You didn’t dare look at Bakugou, whose hand came up to his mouth as though stifling a yawn—but you knew he was hiding a smirk.

To make things worse, while you scrambled on the floor, he signed again, deliberately slower so you couldn’t miss it:

Would’ve pulled your hair too, just to hear you scream.

Your face burned so hot you were sure you’d melt through the stage.

It didn’t stop there.

At the next agency-wide meeting, Bakugou sat across from you in the conference room, arms crossed as a pro-hero you couldn't bother to listen to went on and on about new combat protocols. The room was packed with pro heroes, all seated shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bakugou, who’d already tuned out after the first ten minutes, caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, his hands moved subtly under the table:

I’d eat you out on this table, right in front of everyone, and make sure you couldn’t stay quiet.

The coffee cup in your hand slipped, splashing onto your notes. You cursed under your breath, grabbing napkins to clean the mess.

Kirishima, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Whoa, you okay? You’ve been jumpy lately.”

You forced a smile, not daring to look at Bakugou, whose expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

It became a game to him.

While Kirishima nodded and went back to his notes, Bakugou adjusted in his chair and signed again:

Bet you’d cry if I used my mouth the way I’m thinking. Probably beg me to stop—but you wouldn’t really mean it.

You slammed your pen down so hard it startled Kaminari, who glanced over with a confused look.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, refusing to look up.

Across the table, Bakugou leaned back, feigning boredom, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

It escalated during a casual outing with the crew.

Everyone had gathered at a bustling ramen joint after a long patrol, crowding into a booth that was way too small for so many people. Bakugou sat to your right, thigh pressed against yours under the table. As the conversation flowed around him, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually started eating.

Then, as Mina told a story about her latest villain takedown, he turned his head slightly toward you and signed with one hand:

The things I’d do to you under this table would make you scream so loud they’d kick us out.

You froze, chopsticks hovering mid-air. He didn’t even blink, slurping his noodles like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal nuke into your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing your deer-in-headlights expression.

“Uh… spicy broth,” you choked out, grabbing your water and gulping it down.

Bakugou, still chewing, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and added another one for good measure:

Bet I could make you cum without anyone noticing. Wanna test that theory?

You almost choked on your drink, coughing so hard Kirishima patted your back in concern.

At a charity event, he raised the bar again.

The ballroom was filled with reporters, politicians, and wealthy donors, all eager to mingle with Japan’s most famous heroes. Bakugou hated these events with a burning passion, but at least you were there to make it tolerable.

You stood beside him, chatting politely with a group of businessmen, when you felt his gaze on you. Slowly, you turned your head, already dreading what was coming.

He didn’t disappoint. With the straightest face you’d ever seen, he signed:

You’d look so much better on your knees, with my cock down your throat, than in that dress.

Your hand shot out, nearly spilling your champagne as you fumbled to keep your composure. The Pro Hero you were speaking to paused mid-sentence, giving you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“I—I’m fine,” you stuttered, setting the glass down before you could break it.

Bakugou tilted his head innocently, signing again:

Bet you’d love it if I bent you over that balcony upstairs. Bet you’d be dripping by the time I was done.

Your jaw dropped, and you 'accidentally' kicked his shin under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

It wasn’t just formal settings, either. Bakugou would strike anywhere.

During a team training session, you were sparring with Kaminari while Bakugou watched from the sidelines. When you finally landed a clean hit, knocking Kaminari flat on his ass, Bakugou clapped slowly, catching your attention.

Wanna know what else you could knock flat? Me. On my back. With you riding me till I forget my own goddamn name.

Your sparring stance faltered, and Kaminari took the opportunity to trip you.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, offering a hand to help you up.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, shooting a glare at Bakugou, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

The worst of all came during a live broadcast.

The Hero Public Safety Commission had organized a televised Q&A with Japan’s top heroes. You sat between Bakugou and Midoriya, fielding questions from both the moderator and the live audience. Bakugou had been unusually quiet for most of the event, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

But then, while the moderator addressed Midoriya, Bakugou caught your attention.

His hands moved lazily, almost imperceptibly, as he signed:

After this, I’m gonna pin you to the wall in the dressing room and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here straight.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked away, heart hammering in your chest.

“And what about you?” the moderator asked, pulling your attention back to the present.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

Beside you, Bakugou leaned back in his chair, smirking as the moderator repeated the question. His hands shifted again, just enough for you to catch his next message:

If you blush any harder, they’re gonna think you’re into this.

You resisted the urge to scream.

Because, for Bakugou, nothing was funnier than watching you squirm. And knowing you were the only one who could decode his filthy little secrets? That was just the icing on the cake.

…..

Over time, the signing became a secret game. A language only the two of you shared, even if it was insanely one sided. In battle, it was strategic—efficient, silent communication when words couldn’t cut through the noise. Off the field? It was something else entirely.

After a particularly grueling patrol, Bakugou flopped onto the couch beside you, tugging his hearing aids out and tossing them onto the table.

“Another shitty day,” he muttered.

You hummed in agreement, leaning against him.

Without thinking, he signed: You’re the only thing that doesn’t piss me off.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothin’, Cupcake. Just watch the TV..”

And for once, you didn’t press.

Because sometimes, silence said enough.

[pinkxpantha]

Mute in the Language of Love

- Lynette x FEM! reader

#: synopsis- Lynette is pining hard for her friend. A not-so breaking news, she's not that experienced in the field of love. But maybe you'll help guide her in this unexplored biome

#: cw- 1.4k words, you/her pronouns, winners love winning, canon complient, non-established relationship, mutual pining, fluff, reader is implied to work with reviewing books or something, reader implied to be older if you squint and look through a magnifying glass. cup'o'tea

Lynette didn't think of herself as the type to fall in love and fall so hard. As though an arrow was shot into her eye, blinding her of her own environment as she fumbled and was tossed by the world around her.

That swirling in her chest was unfamiliar, the rhythmic pulse of her heart felt as though she could feel the texture of her own ribs whenever she was with you. 

You were a fascinating girl, and you filled her mind more often than she'd like to admit it.

She'd be foolish to think she could keep her feelings hidden for so long, but she didn't expect to be found out so quickly.

It might've only been three hours since Lynette herself realized what that bubbling of her chest meant each time she stared at you. And it only took three minutes for Lyney to become absolutely insufferable. 

Any time she was with you and he just so happened to be in proximity, She'd see his teasing looks directed at her, small smirks flashed her way when the corners of her lips twitched upwards at something you said.

"Lynette, when are you going to tell her?" He pestered her at least once every day. 

It wasn't that she didn't want to tell you anything; each day she suffered in longing wondering if she could hold you in her arms and live with your touch always being available to her, too familiar to forget.

Yet she worried about how her words may come across, if it was too direct, how would you react? Do you like grandiose gestures? (as much as she'd prefer not to make her feelings into a public spectacle it was still an option.) Or would even a heartfelt note suffice?

But Lyney, the ever clever and somehow helpfully-unhelpful man he was told her to 'Just ask her'

Safe to say Lyney got a face full of pillow that night. (Look what you've done, reduced her into this immature mess..)

 The next person to recognize her love filled gazes; one that would commonly be interpreted by those passing by as almost soulless despite how drunk her soul was off of her love for you, Was her younger brother, Freminet.

He had seen the two of you walking down a pathway close enough to one of his usual diving areas to see that soft smile on her face, Lynette's gentle gaze on you as though you were the most precious being in the world.

It took three days for Lynette to even muster up the courage to talk about romance with you; and she didn't even bring the topic up.

It didn't take long to find you, as if an internal compass pulled her into your direction everyday. She walked up to the table you were sitting at, a book rested in one of your hands and a cup of tea in the other.

"What is that you're reading [Name]?" She asked, stirring you out of the focused concentration you held when reading. (Was it so bad she found it cute when your brows furrowed after reading a sentence a bit too quickly?)

"A friend recommended me this book from Yae publishing house," you said, slipping a ribbon in between the page you were reading, showing her the title of the book in your hands. "It's a romance but I wouldn't say it's all too romantic." 

She looked at the cover, reading out loud. "'Engaged to my Lover's possessed body..?' It sounds out of place for that genre, it's a bit...?" 

"Scary? Definitely." You finished for her, the curve of your cheeks becoming more pronounced as you smiled with amusement at her confused reaction. "It would be horrifying to wake up and suddenly someone you know well-- isn't them?"

Lynette hummed in response, "When you put it like that, I wonder how the author came up with that plot." To which you rested your head on the knuckle of your fingers.

"It really depends on how it's written. Good chemistry is good chemistry," you said before looking at the chair in front of you. "If you have the time, you can always have some tea and chat with me Lynette." You offered.

Lynette's ear twitched at your offer. She sat down with a 'Thank you' quickly feeling all her surroundings melt away into a fading background noise with you.

You went over to one of the staff, placing her order for her. Something you had already known by heart, Lynette liked the sharp bitterness of her tea, and she also liked a sweet aftertaste. Tea and biscuits was a perfect combo.

Soon you returned back to her, the sun coating you in it's rays as though it was accepting you to be of the same caliber.

In some ways you were the sun to Lynette. "Are romance books something you read often?" She asked as you sat back down in front of her. 

You held your position in thought, "Outside of reviewing books I wouldn't really say so. I definitely do have an appreciation for the romantic but its always better when you can see it on someone's face." You looked off into the streets of fontaine

Your eyes followed that of those walking together. Different pairs of couples with their arms interlaced with one another, "That look in their eyes, treasuring someone so much that they could stand out in any crowd. That's more satisfying than any well-crafted line of text."

Lynette wanted to beg you to look at her, to see how her pupils dilated each time she looked at you as if she wanted to take in your whole essence and keep it imprinted onto your brain.

"It sounds like you speak from expirence."  Lynette commented, a selfish part of her wanted to be the only one that could show you love on such a grand scale. But her love for you was unique in its own way. She would be the one walking with you as you recited poems from across teyvat that you remembered in that moment.

That love was hers.

"I guess you could say so, I have fallen in love before." You said after taking a sip from your own tea making her remember her own neglected tea. You turned back your head to face her.

Lynette hesitated, her mouth slightly parting as she asked, "If it's not too personal, could I hear more?" You nodded, "Of course."

"I love for simple reasons," You said, your hands folded on your lap as you watched Lynette. "They would listen to me as though I was the only sound they could hear." Your gaze dusted her cheeks like a feather, as if she could feel each movement of your pupils.

"And I watched them as if they were the only moving thing in a still world. " You said.

"Do you still love them?" Lynette asked, her words tumbling out almost instantaneously. Maybe if you were a bit closet to her you might've heard the waver of her breath or seen how her tounge rubbed against one of her teeth. 

 "I don't think its possible to ever stop loving." You responded, Lynette's breath caught in her throat, the vertebrae of her spine keeping it trapped as she looked back at you. 

How Lynette wished she were an artist so she could draw that fondness of your face over and over again, and feel her stomach explode and contort with each rendition. 

Lynette's mouth twitched into a small, barely noticable smile "I guess that's what makes absence hurt so much." She said.

You nodded, "Love really is a beautiful thing." You responded. 

The two of you sat in each other's company for a few more minutes, drinking into each other's presence in a comforting silence as you sipped your tea.

It was only a few minutes afterwards when Lynette placed her cup down with a clink, the empty teacup placed back on its holder.

"Thank you for staying with me for a while." You said, not finding something of substance to make her stay and talk with you some more, but also not wanting her to leave.

She stood up and gave a slight bow to you, "Of course. I enjoy your company." Those soft monotone words padded your ears in a comfort she probably didn't even mean to give.

"I'll see you soon?" You said to her.

"Yes, soon." She responded.

You watched as she walked off into the distance, her figure fading with each step. You let out a soft sigh, glad you could talk about love with her, even just for a moment. In three seconds you already missed her so.

I literally spedran this, it's 3:29 am and I have not proofread it, I will come back to fix mistakes tho 😁 trust ( ≧ꇴ≦)

its actually 1477 words but who's counting [proud]

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🐢 I need you

Title from Two Minus One (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: It's Seokmin's and Vernon's birthday - a day for celebration. Instead Vernon spends it feeling miserable, throwing up with the stomach flu.

CW: emeto

Sickie: Vernon/Hansol Caretakers: S.Coups/Seungcheol + Joshua + Seokmin/DK

“Wake up, Hansollie”, a voice sang into his ear. “Happy Birthday!”

Vernon blinked his eyes open just in time for a heavy weight to land itself on him, cuddling him tightly. Seokmin - his mind supplied. Ever since they had found out about their birthdays being on the same day a year apart, Seokmin had been so excited for that day to come around every year. 

It was tradition now for Seokmin to come into his room early in the morning to cuddle Vernon - who really hated getting up directly after waking up - awake and into getting up. All the while the rest of the room’s occupants - Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Minghao and Dino - would leave to prepare things. Seokmin seldom was successful though and it always ended up with the rest of the members streaming into the room, carrying cake and singing. Vernon didn’t mind at all - it was really sweet of them.

“Happy Birthday, hyung”, he whispered to Seokmin, wrapping his arms around the older and closing his eyes again. He was still so tired - apparently he had even slept through the other members leaving the room earlier. It was no wonder really though. Their schedules had picked up a lot after debuting and Vernon had been struggling all day yesterday already, sleepy and ready to be in dreamland for a full night straight. 

Sadly the ten hours he must have gotten at least didn’t stop the tiredness and lethargy. If anything, he felt worse. There was a slight pain in his head and his stomach felt … weird. Unsettled. 

Well, he hadn’t eaten in a long time - it was probably just that. 

“Don’t fall back asleep, kiddo”, Seokmin said with a small laugh, peppering Vernon’s face with kisses. “The others are …”

It was then that the door opened and as Vernon tried to adjust his eyes to the bright light that was suddenly flooding the room. All the members were wearing party hats with turtles on them, smiling brightly and singing ‘Happy Birthday’ on top of their lungs which sounded pretty bad considering they were all idols. Hoshi and Woozi were both carrying a cake each.

Once the awkwardness of listening to the others' singing (which was only made better by Seokmin holding him tightly) had passed, Seungcheol sat down on the bed beside them. “Happy Birthday, you two”, he said, wrapping both of them into his strong arms. 

Vernon sighed and rested his head against the leader’s shoulder. He appreciated what the others did for them a lot, he truly did, but all he wanted to do was fall back asleep. Now that he was a bit more awake Vernon realized that his stomach really was angry. It was rolling inside him and there was the uncomfortable heat of nausea all over his body. It was hard to swallow and his throat felt weird. 

Oh, God, please, no. Vernon did not want to be sick on his birthday. Not on his eighteenth birthday. 

Remembering back to all the coming of age birthdays Vernon was sure the members had something special planned and he did not want it to go to waste. 

So he pretended. Normally he was the first one to speak up about feeling unwell, hating sickness with a passion and wanting a hyung by his side, but he couldn’t do that now. He didn’t want to be sick, not on his birthday. The day was supposed to be special and filled with happiness and laughter. 

But all Vernon felt was sick. 

He endured all members hugging and cuddling him, some ruffling his hair or kissing his forehead. 

It was then that Seungcheol dropped the bomb: “I negotiated with the managers. We all have a free day except for your birthday v-lives.”

Cheers broke out, members falling into each other's arms and Hoshi even nearly dropping the cake when he tried to hug Seungkwan in happiness only to get scolded by Woozi. Vernon felt relief flood his body. He wouldn’t have to work today - except for the half-hour v-live. It did not get better than this.

Unceremoniously, Vernon let himself fall backwards into his bedsheets. Seokmin giggled, tickling Vernon’s stomach. “Don’t sleep when we have a whole day just for us”, he complained, laughing.

Vernon couldn’t help but laugh as well. He was incredibly ticklish which the rest of the members found very cute and loved to take advantage of. Right now though? It was the worst thing that could happen to him. His stomach contracted as he laughed causing his stomach contents, unhappy with staying inside of him, to rise up his throat. 

💎

It was his last resolve crumbling. 

“Hyung, stop, I’m going to …”, he said, hoping that Seokmin would get the message. Before Seokmin even had a chance to react, Vernon gagged harshly and twisted to his side. 

His nausea boiled over and hot vomit sprayed from Vernon’s mouth, splattering on the floor in front of Seungcheol’s feet. At the disgusting sound of his wretching and the brown liquid hitting the floor, the room seemed to freeze. 

Vernon was vaguely aware of Seokmin scooting away but all he could really focus on was the next torrent of sick that forced its way out of his mouth and into the rapidly growing puddle by his bedside. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, another combing his sweat soaked hair from his face, and Vernon threw up again and again. 

It seemed like hours later that he was finally able to stop turning himself inside out. Opening his eyes, having closed them when the sight of vomit became too much, Vernon found the room empty. Only two figures were still with him, sitting on the bed in such a position that Vernon at first wasn’t sure who it was.

Tears spilled over his hot cheeks as Vernon realized what had happened. He had thrown up - not only onto the floor but also with all his members watching. It was so embarrassing and he still felt awful. 

“Oh, Nonie”, a voice cooed and then Vernon was wrapped in a warm hug, comforting strong arms holding him against the chest of the person. Vernon sobbed, his emotion too big for him at the moment - something Jun always said when Vernon was overwhelmed. The person was holding Vernon tightly and another was rubbing his back in comforting circles until the young raper managed to calm down.

Breathing deeply, Vernon only then realized that the person holding him was his leader, Seungcheol’s familiar perfume penetrating his muddled senses and comforting him. He nuzzled his head under Seungcheol’s chin, happy to stay where he was. He felt unwell, his stomach upset in a way he knew he would need to be sick again at one point and his whole body wrecked with chills. But being safe in Seungcheol’s arms was drowning out the uncomfortableness. 

“Are you feeling better now that you got that out?”, Joshua asked behind him, voice gentle and unassuming. Vernon was glad to have the other American with him, his connection to his Shua-hyung very special and comforting. He always wanted Joshua with him when sick.

With a slight whimper, Vernon shook his head. 

He just felt awful. 

Why did it have to be today? There were 364 other days in the year and he had to wake up puking on this one?

“I’m sorry, hyungs”, he mumbled, his stomach twisting as he looked at the mess below him. Vomit was pooling on the floor, soaking into his bed sheets and, gross, some was even on his sleep shirt.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby”, Seungcheol said, brushing back his sweat-soaked hair, “you’re sick. It happens. It just sucks it’s today.”

Joshua lifted his hand to Vernon’s forehead and he nuzzled into it. It soothed his hot skin.

“You’re burning up”, Joshua mumbled, “we need to get …”

💎

But Vernon couldn’t listen anymore. Another wave of nausea crashed over him.

"Hyung", he gasped out, bringing a hand to his mouth, struggling to get up.

"Can you make it to the bathroom?", Joshua asked, radiating his usual calmness. Vernon nodded. He wasn't sure, but he sure as hell was gonna try. So he let Joshua help him up and hurry him to the door across the hall. 

Vernon mentally thanked every deity he knew that the bathroom was so close. However, the toilet was way too far, he realized, and pulled Joshua towards the sink with him. The second they reached it, he was throwing up again. He saw the half digested noodles from dinner coming up, splattering into the porcelaine, and he had to close his eyes. Joshua just opened the tap and let the water wash away the sick. The man was a heaven-sent. He held his dongsaeng’s hair away from his eyes and rubbed his stomach, while pressing Vernon's back against his front to keep him upright. Between his heaving and sobbing Vernon was able to hear his hyung whisper soothing nothingness in his ear.

Once he was done, he sunk back against Joshua, trusting the other to keep him upright. Gently Joshua pulled him over to sit down on the closed toilet lid. Vernon leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his hurting stomach. Joshua moved away and before he was aware of it, Vernon let out a whining sound. Joshua chuckled lightly. "I'll be back soon, okay?", he promised, "I'll just get a wet flannel and some new clothing. Cheollie is getting your room cleaned up. We thought you might get too overwhelmed with all of us fussing over you." Vernon nodded, thankful.

He blinked and Joshua was already back, holding a fresh t-shirt and boxers in one hand, a flannel in the other. Gently he wiped the flannel across Vernon's face. He relished the cool sensation against his hot skin. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't noticed had slipped shut, when he felt a slight tugging on his hair.

"Sorry", Joshua whispered and smiled at him, "you have a bit of sick in your hair. I'm just cleaning it off." 

Vernon nodded, trying to ignore how vomit had gotten even there. He shivered. Damn fever. "Arms up", Joshua commanded and helped him change his shirt. Then he lifted Vernon to his feet and held him steady as he put on the new pair of boxers. He did feel better now, that he was cleaner and not completely soaked in sweat.

"Let me take your temperature?", Joshua asked, though in a voice that didn't give him a choice. How he suddenly had a thermometer, Vernon wasn't sure. He might be losing some time. He opened his mouth and Joshua put the cool metal inside. But Vernon had to pull away as soon as it touched his tongue, gagging. 

"Fuck", he mumbled, tears again in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, baby, but I need to know your temperature", Joshua said. In the end it took them five tries and Joshua had to hold Vernon' hand to keep him from pulling away. "38.9°C, that’s, uh, 102.0°F", Joshua read. "No wonder you feel so shitty. Do you think you can try to keep down some medicine?"

"'m not even sure I could keep down water."

"Okay, you don't have to."

"You wanna go back to bed?", Joshua asked after a moment. "Everything is clean again, I just went to check with Cheollie"

"Huh?", Vernon asked, bemused. 

"Oh, love", Joshua said, stroking his back. "You didn't notice that I was gone just now, did you?"

Vernon shook his head. Fevers more often than not hit him hard and he often forgot things due to them, so he wasn't particularly worried.

"So, you wanna go back to bed?"

Vernon took stock of his body. On one hand he felt tired and shaky, the bright light of the bathroom aggravating his eyes. But on the other, more pressing hand, he still felt nauseous enough to want to be close to a toilet.

"Stay", he decided. Joshua nodded. "Let me get us some stuff, okay?"

💎

In the end, Joshua had to make two trips to bring all the stuff he thought they would need. One blanket to sit upon, one to make a maknae-burrito, multiple pillows to get comfy, some water and their phones.

First of all he finally put out the bright light, just switched on the small night light above the sink. They had bought it some time ago specifically for Woozi’s migraines, when he needed darkness, but his caretakers still needed to see. Due to the warm light the producer was able to tolerate it.

Next the singer spread out the first blanket and helped Vernon sit down on it, then wrapped the second one around him. He put the water and their phones on the ground and arranged the pillows, so that he himself had one to soften the wall he was leaning against and another one on his lap, so Vernon could lay down. 

He curled into himself on Joshua’s lap, his hyung’s hand resting on his aching stomach, some of the warmth and the familiar feeling helping the tension.

They stayed that way for some time, Joshua just stroking Vernon' back, softly humming a song or talking quietly. Vernon still had to throw up a few more times, and it was as awful as always. But he was glad for the privacy, no prying if worried eyes from his members. 

A few minutes later Seungcheol stuck his head into the bathroom, smiling softly at the scene in front of him. Joshua lifted his index finger to his lips in a gesture of shushing him.

Seungcheol quietly walked inside and knelt down next to them. "How is he?", he whispered. "Pretty sick. He’s been throwing up so often but he’s finally getting some rest", Joshua reported, equally quiet. Seungcheol stroked Vernon's face gently and the maknae unconsciously leaned into the touch of his leader.

"Hey, hyung", Vernon mumbled sleepingly from his position on Joshua’s lap, blinking up owlishly at Seungcheol.

"Hey, yourself", Seungcheol answered smiling. "How about we get you to bed? I already put a bucket close by and, I am really sorry, but we kinda need this bathroom. Hoshi has been denying he needs to pee for the past twenty minutes and Woozi looks ready to hit him."

Vernon giggled, able to perfectly imagine the scene in his mind - surely with Hoshi being a dancer even his potty dance would be impressive. With a glance at Joshua, Seungcheol swept up Vernon into his arms. Carefully he laid down their dongsaeng on his bed and a second later, Joshua was sitting next to his bed. "Go back to sleep", Joshua whispered and Vernon did.

"I'll clean up the bathroom", Joshua said, turning to Seungcheol, "you already had the worst of it. Stay with him." Seungcheol grimaced but nodded, already halfway in bed with his hip-hop maknae.

💎

The room was dark and the blinds closed when Vernon woke up again. He was shivering and he knew he still was feverish, but he was also thirsty. He was surprised there was nobody by his side but he also wasn’t sure what time it was. For all he knew it could be the middle of the night.

He quickly pulled on a pair of sweats and a thick pair of socks and grabbed a hoodie which he knew belonged to Jun. Then he slipped out of the room. 

Seungcheol, Joshua, Wonwoo and Seokmin were sitting at the kitchen island, talking quietly. 

Wonwoo saw him first and greeted him with a low: "Hey Nonie." The others all turned around and waved at him. Vernon had the whole hyung-cuddle-menue in front of him but now all he could focus on was one in particular. Stumbling forward Vernon let himself be wrapped into an embrace by Seokmin and buried his face in his neck.

"Hyung", he said or rather tried to say. Nothing much came out, except for a hoarse whisper that caused him to cough. Fantastic, apparently spending the whole morning vomiting might leave you with no voice. "Aw, love", Seokmin said, though chuckling a bit. Vernon pouted.

"Sit down", Seungcheol said gently, "you still look a bit wobbly. How are you feeling?" Vernon paused for a moment and then decided he didn't give a fuck, he was still ill so sue him, and plopped down sideways on Seokmin’s lap. He hadn’t gotten to finish cuddling him this morning and now he craved his Seokmin-hyung’s hugs. Seokmin ust laughed softly and wrapped his arms around him. Seungcheol smiled fondly at them, then raised his eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"Cold. Bit queasy, but not nauseous anymore. Head hurts", Vernon whispered. That way one could at least understand him. "You're still a bit warm, Hansollie", Joshua mumbled, reaching out to feel his forehead, "Do you feel up to eating?"

Vernon contemplated his answer. He didn't think he was going to throw up again, but his stomach was still not happy with him. "I'll try", he finally decided, "maybe some rice?"

Wonwoo immediately got up and searched for the requested food. "At your service, kiddo. Do you want tea as well?", he asked, without turning around. Vernon nodded and nudged Seokmin. "Yes, he does. With honey?" Vernon nodded again. "With honey."

Soon Wonwoo put down a plate and Vernon's favorite mug down in front of him. Vernon grabbed the mug and cradled it in his hands, savoring the warmth. 

"Let me get the thermometer just in case", Seungcheol said and disappeared into the hall.

A few minutes of Vernon half-heartedly spooning some rice to his mouth, he appeared again and handed Vernon the thermometer, who put it in his mouth. When it beeped he handed it to the nearest hyung who happened to be Wonwoo. "38.2°C”, the rapper read. "Still a bit raised, but it's a low fever." 

Seungcheol handed Vernon a pill, who swallowed it without complaint.

"So, Doctor Seungcheol, what do you prescribe?", Seokmin asked, clearly only half-joking and actually hoping for their leader’s advice.

"Lots of fluids. If he behaves he may stay on the couch and watch some TV."

"I'm still here, you know", Vernon protested, rolling his eyes.

Half an hour later Seokmin (who had refused to let go of the sick maknae) and Vernon were cuddled up on the couch together. Seungcheol was sitting on the armchair and Wonwoo and Joshua were on the second couch. 

After a long discussion of what to watch - it was pretty pointless, really, they all would do everything to make Vernon happy at this time so he easily won - they settled under the blankets, a bucket by Vernon’s feet just in case.

💎

"Happy birthday, kiddo", Seokmin mumbled, "we'll truly celebrate when you feel better again."

Vernon sighed and snuggled up even closer to him. But before he could even enjoy the movie, Vernon was fast asleep again.

Notes: Happy Birthday to DK and Vernon!!!

Masterlist links: Fairy's Masterlist 2024 Fairy's Masterlist 2025 Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[sapphicherri]

heyyy sorry i disappeared i kinda just stopped being horny for like 4 months lol but we are so back🫶🏻