#i happen to love this trope too much to get rid of it

[maybeamiles]

literally begging my OC's to just kiss already. One of them keeps describing how much he's in love with the other and the other is like, "oh wow, he sounds like a lucky guy" THE GUY IS YOU. YOU ARE THE ONE HE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU DUMBASS.

[angelltheninth]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do The Hazbin Cast x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment to themselves, and before anything more could happen, suddenly something or someone ruins the moment?

See... I both hate and love this trope. It's funny as hell, but frustrating as hell too.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, interrupted romantic moment, canon typical violence, blood, suggestive, date night

A/N: I would punch anyone who interrupts me. And I'm not a violent person. So uh... these characters have an effect on me lmao.

Charlie acts very calm unless either or both of you is in any state of undress. There’s no one more affectionate than her, displaying that in front of others is fine with her, she wants others to know of her love for you. It’s a different thing if it’s in a more intimate setting where she expected to have alone time with you. With a deep breath, some blushing and a groan she would try to get rid of distractions as soon as possible but at the same time. she would apologize to whoever interrupted you for shooing them away.

Vaggie has a blade at hand and it is promptly thrown next to the head of whoever interrupted you. Deep down she is a huge romantic and enjoys being romanced a lot, on the surface she is a badass fighter and she had an image to uphold with many people. There’s a lot of yelling and cursing, probably more than one threat of killing someone before she is back by your side, grumbling and murmuring to herself about forgetting to lock the damn door.

Alastor threatens to tear apart anyone who interrupts you, he puts that out as a warning because of how many times it’s happened in the past and he’s grown tired of being in a middle of a dance or cuddling and someone barging in wanting something. Usually he’s the one who walks in without knocking, now he’s getting to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel good, a full record scratch, even his shadow looks pissed off at even the slightest interruption.

Lucifer is in good spirits recently so even something as an interrupted date doesn’t get under his skin, if it was before it would have been a different story. Right now wile a little annoyed he can forgive and forget, after all no one saw anything too scandalous, although some would say that seeing the King of Hell in handcuffs is pretty scandalous by itself. As long as this doesn’t happen again it will be fine, although he knows you will tease him for it later.

Angel Dust obviously doesn’t mind it too much, on the surface at least, he is a porn star so getting watched is part of the job. That’s in the studio at least, at the Hotel he has the privacy he never had before, he likes it a lot actually, it’s almost too good to be true. Maybe he will occasionally flirt with or tease who ever interrupted you but in these four walls he is all yours and he won’t let the mood be spoiled by anyone, including his boss.

Husk groans and pulls your face close to his neck to help you hide your flushed face from the onlooker. How is this so perfectly timed, right when he wanted to take your clothes off and have a bit of fun with you someone just had to walk in. Well they’re really lucky he’s not as powerful as he once was otherwise they would be splattered all over the walls right now and would have to put themselves together while he makes out with you.

Sir Pentious hides his face behind his hat the moment someone enters his bedroom and sees you on top of him. Damn it, he told his Egg Boiz to make sure no one enters his bedroom, which also applies to them, until one of you steps out first, no matter what noises are heard from inside. As soon as you’re done and you think you’re gonna sleep he slithers out and starts working on plans for a new machine to make sure no one interrupts you ever again: a doorbell with a laser.

Adam yells at the person who interrupted the two of you because damn he’s been waiting the whole day to have you all to himself, all moody and pent up. This is his time with you, which means that no one gets to tell him he’s needed elsewhere before he’s done with you. He wraps you up with his wings if he sees you’re getting embaressed but really now, considering everything you do together getting watched shouldn’t be an issue.

Vox flinches when he gets a ping that someone’s crossed in front of his cameras which he set up just so no one catches the two of you in a compromising position. He sighs as he pulls away and covers you with a blanket, hiding your body from anyone’s view but his, which is funny because he has an insight into almost everyone else’s love life. For a demon like that he wants to keep his own affairs fairly private, at least the bedroom kind.

Valentino grins at the person who walks in on the two of you, he has zero shame regardless of your own level of shame he will brag about everything that happens and if someone sees it then even better. Besides he is the Overlord of the the porn industry, you knew things like this could happen when you began your relationship with him. He is so comfortable in fact that he will just keep going, kissing you occasionally to tell you that you’re doing a good job in front of a crowd.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

König x Nun!Reader

Word count: 12.5 k Tags/warnings: 18+ pure FLUFF & SMUT & COMFORT

First time/loss of virginity, implied consent, teasing, corruption kink, fingering, cunnilingus, thighing/intercrural sex, protected p in v. Silly, sweet, kind of innocent, kind of naughty. Romance, forbidden love trope, love as a religion, happy ending. 

Part 3/3

Everytime König enters your life, you start to lie.

You lie about where you’re going and where you’ve been, you lie about who you see and what you do. People think you’ve helped some foreign man to hospital, that you were away last night to make sure he got safely into treatment. You told them he was some poor fellow who got stabbed and robbed on the street and that you called the ambulance from his phone and that the police needed to see you today for further questioning. 

You lie and lie and lie, and then slip out to see König, who’s hopefully alive and still in the same place you left him last night.

When you enter the old, half-demolished building now serving as a B&B, the same old man from last night looks up with wary eyes. He immediately relaxes back to reading his paper when he sees you’re only the harmless, grey nun from last night. 

You sneak upstairs without exchanging a word with him and go straight to König’s door. Giving it a quick knock and uttering, “It’s me,” you half expect to get shot through the wooden entrance. But there only comes a happy “Come in” from behind the door, and you notice König hasn’t even locked the damn thing. Is he expecting you, or is he simply that confident with his gunslinger skills?

Turns out he’s probably both, because you freeze right there on the doorstep when you step in.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers this time, and your eyes fly straight back to his eyes after being glued to the prominent package between his legs for far too long. And good God, the man’s got some muscles on those legs... 

“Hallo, Kätzchen,” he greets, giving you an obnoxiously flirty smile upon noticing how flustered you look.

“You… You shouldn’t be up yet,” you quickly turn to close the door. 

“I have to use the bathroom, no?”

He looks at you from across the room, so innocent and sweet and, at the same time, so mischievous that you don’t know what to do or where to look. He’s gotten rid of the hood, but there are traces of black paint around his eyes, it still clings to his brows, making him look like someone who just came home from a carnival. You want to go to him and wipe it away and tell him that he missed a spot and that he’s clumsier than you thought, but you can’t... You can only fall deeper into your awkward shyness as he raises his brows. 

He turns what appears to be the shreds of his old shirt in his hands, then dumps it into the bin, suddenly a little nervous too. There are moments when you have suspected that König might suffer from social anxiety or shyness around people, but he covers it very well. Around you, the man seems to be at ease, flirts and jokes with you often and is very straightforward with his intentions.

You wonder if he likes you so much simply because you are unattainable. 

Maybe you represent some girl next door to him, perhaps you remind him of his first love. Perhaps you happen to be something so sweet, innocent, and unreachable that he feels strong and safe in your company. Perhaps holding hands and trading a few passionate kisses feels safer than going after a real relationship… Perhaps this Will they, won’t they situation is enough excitement for him, too.

Or perhaps König has been so wounded by women that he prefers to be around a frigid – or at least very virginal – nun rather than face the dangers of approaching a real, attainable woman.

But flaunting himself like this in front of you is yet another clear sign that he, at the very least, loves to tease you to death. He looks like he’s in far better condition than yesterday, and starts to peel off the bandage like it’s just a scratch he suffered. 

“Let me help you with that,” you rush to him, silently relieved when he lets you clean the wound and change the bandage. He even lays himself down to be treated by you and smiles with his signature grin as you fuss around him.

“Not a word,” you risk a glance his way while gently cleaning the wound.

“Not a word,” he promises with a cheeky smile, and gets another erection. 

It’s even worse when he’s wearing nothing but his underwear... You can see the bulge stretching the fabric, forming a tight, thick curve right next to you as you try to focus on your task.

“Perhaps you should put some clothes on,” you offer while trying to concentrate on examining the skin for any signs of irritation.

“Eh. They’re dirty.”

“I can go and ask if they have a laundry room here,” you propose. “I could wash them for you. Do you need a new shirt?”

Ugh, what a stupid question...

“Why not,” he shrugs. “If the view is unpleasant...”

“Behave yourself now,” you say with a soft smile. “XL…?”

“At least.”

He must be getting better if he’s behaving like this... The man’s insufferable enough when he’s uninjured, but now that he’s getting pampered, he’s somehow even worse. You bite your lip as he dares to moan on the bed, too. You’ve brought him food last night, and he’s being treated carefully and touched softly, he’s getting his clothes washed for him, he’s got his own personal nun worrying about him 24/7. Of course he’s moaning.

And you’re in danger because you just love to pamper him. It feels more meaningful to treat his wounds and run on errands than do the eternal dishes at the convent. You feel like you’re saving a life here... Like someone actually needs you, depends on you. You feel so wanted, and König seems to fully agree with you.

“I could live the rest of my life like this,” he purrs on the bed as you gently put a fresh bandage in place.

“I have no doubt about that.”

“Are you really going to get me a new shirt…?” He asks with bright puppy eyes – the faked innocence is so blatant you want to throw a pillow over that face.

“If you give me some money to buy one, then yes.”

“You can have as much as you want. Buy yourself something nice while you’re at it, hmm? As a reward.”

“I don’t do this for the sake of rewards.”

“I know... But you could buy yourself anything you want. A new dress, new jeans, lingerie… Give me a little fashion show when you get back?”

König knows you’re probably the last woman on earth who’s interested in shopping sprees, let alone new jeans or sexy lingerie. Your only summer dress resides at your parent’s house as a relic from the past, a token from your life before sisterhood. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t want to see his face when you do a little twirl before his bed, wearing nothing but a laced bra and some matching strings… 

“Give you a fashion show?” you laugh. “When did thanking me turn into you profiting from it?”

“I’m just saying... If you need new underwear, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

You snort and shake your head slowly. “You’re far too cheeky when you’re injured. I truly hope you get better soon.” 

“I don’t,” he crosses his arms behind his head, looking perfectly pleased with himself while lying there in nothing but his underwear. “And neither do you.”

“Excuse me? Of course I do…!”

“No, I don’t think so. You like to take care of people, I can see it. You’d make a good field medic.”

“I doubt that.”

“You remain calm under pressure,” he says. “And you take good care of me.”

“That’s only because you were silly enough to get shot.”

“...And I would do it again if it leads to this,” he grins.

“Cheeky,” you shake your head reprimandingly. “Far too cheeky.”

“You are an angel,” he says gently. “And I mean that.”

You rise to put the trash in the bin, then look back at him. “No, I’m not. I’m just some woman you bumped into in the street.”

“That’s exactly what an angel would say.”

You sigh: it’s useless with König, hopeless, like trying to wrestle with God. No matter what you say or do, he always turns it against you in the sweetest possible way. It’s like he's stripping away pieces of your armour – you fear nothing will be left before this visit is done.

“Did you eat any of the food I brought you…? You need to eat something, and drink a lot of water–” You take a look at the side table, noticing he has already eaten everything you got him last night. “Gosh. You must be getting better if you have an appetite like this...”

König only laughs on the bed. “I’m sorry, Kätzchen, but that was just a snack.”

You brought him three sandwiches, at least a dozen apples and a bag of walnuts, but they’re all gone. Of course a soldier of his size eats like a horse, and he needs all the food he can get, having gone through the wringer last night.

“I’d kill for a Schnitzel and a tall beer,” he sighs dreamily on the bed, no doubt knowing you well enough to tell that you’ll get him anything he wants if he only plays this wounded soldier role right. 

You begin to doubt if his injuries were ever that serious. It just looked bad last night because he was so tired, and there was blood everywhere... With a bleak blink, you realize most of the blood you cleaned off of him last night probably wasn’t his own.

He’s in a cheery mood now, looking at you hopefully from the bed, arms crossed behind him, legs out long, wearing nothing but those stupid black boxers and that goshdarned, sweet smile.

“Do you think you could get me one of those big Schnitzels somewhere…? You know, the really big ones.”

“Maybe,” you cross your arms over your chest, and furrow your brow when he visibly perks up on the bed a little. “I said maybe. We’ll see. And you’ll get water instead of beer.”

“Shame.”

“You don’t need alcohol right now. Plus I can’t just go and buy beer looking like this.”

He smiles. The man’s all smiles today… Probably because of all the blood loss. Or maybe because you’re the girl next door who’s going to bring him his favourite food. 

“Of course not,” he says, with hazy love in his eyes. “I am already forever in your debt, Kätzchen.”

…

It’s not a sin to take a nap together.

That’s what you tell yourself as you curl next to König after you bring him his Schnitzel, shirt, and a few bottles of sparkling water. 

“There’s plenty of room for both. Come on, I won’t bite,” he shifts on the bed and extends his hand to invite you in. 

You lay yourself down next to him and tell yourself it’s just to please a recovering man. There’s nothing sexual about it, so why not?

Still, your body is singing by the time he takes your hand in his own, wrapping both your arms around your middle like you’re an established couple about to get some sleep together.

Raindrops are slowly tapping on the window, and you tell yourself you’re just resting your eyes a bit as your lids drift closed. König is already snoring behind you, with another erection pressed against your back. You’re not intimidated by it: it only feels natural to cuddle him like this. The rain turns into a languid rap, and you know you won’t be leaving this building in a while. With the contentment of a cat who’s finally warm and safe, you fall into a deep sleep.

You stir after an hour or two, waking up to such a pleasant, safe feeling you don’t quite remember when you’ve ever felt this good. König has buried his face in your neck, somewhere in the folds of your coif, probably in an attempt to reach some skin. He pulls you closer when you try to shift, rumbling contently behind you.

“Sleep well…?”

“Mm...”

The moment is so lazy and cosy you don’t want to get up. A large, warm hand flexes against your stomach as König buries his face deeper under the veil. He reaches the skin of your neck and inhales deeply, making all the tiny hairs across your body shoot up. 

You let him kiss you there, and he does it with reverence, like he’s kissing a holy idol. It’s chaste enough but makes you go taut in his hold – in fact, you have to use all your willpower not to moan out loud.

“I think I need to go now,” you whisper, doing absolutely nothing to act on that threat.

“Mm–hm,” he agrees while keeping your body hugged tight against him. 

“König… Really, I need to get back...”

“Ja... Ok,” he mutters, hand traveling up the thick black cotton of your habit. It meets your breast and cups it without shame. You feel the hot, hard length twitching against your back, making leaving this bed less and less tantalizing.

You whine when he starts to fully paw your breast, thrusting his hips up and against your butt. The kiss turns into a love bite right after as he starts to use teeth on your neck – your back arches on instinct, a broken sigh slipping through your lips. He can't be serious... A hickey-covered neck is the last souvenir you want to bring back from this nap.

“You said you wouldn’t bite,” you whimper, but he just laughs softly. The sound is thick and breathless, cinders and smoke so close to your ear that you’re shamefully wet even without his other… advances.

The afternoon is mellow, it has stopped raining, but you wish you could stay on this spun sugar bed with him forever. You know what you want already; in your heart, you’ve made a giant decision, but the overwhelming realisation is too much to bear. 

And so you rip yourself away from his arms and flee once again. He’s the devil himself, smiling on the bed with another proud erection tenting his pants. Rushing back to the convent, adjusting your veil as you go, your mind is plagued with the image of König reaching a hand down those boxers and enjoying a long, drowsy masturbation session while you have to hurry home for Mass.

Christ… 

It only took 24 hours to make you melt in his arms like snow.

And the “naps” become a habit as you haul him food or clothes, new from the store or clean and warm from the drier. You bring him a fresh pair of boxers, too, since he only had the clothes on his back when he was shot. He’s ever so grateful for his saving angel, who he gets to cuddle “as a reward”. You don’t quite know if it's a reward for you or him.

Sometimes, he’s cleaning his gun or doing wall pushups when you arrive, indicating that he’s still recovering but getting better every day – and more restless by the minute. At some point, you’re not even napping anymore; you only lay down with him to snuggle and make out, feeling like a shy teen when you only let him touch you over your clothes. His hands explore you literally everywhere except between your legs because that’s when you gently guide his eager paws away.

You wonder if this is what drugs feel like to some people. You’re fully in the present moment, swimming in a soft bliss, calm and whole and sweet and good. Everything in the world is just as it should be.

“If you ever come to Austria, I will take you to the mountains,” König mumbles nonsense into your hair, freed one day from the confines of your veil and coif. It’s a surrender in every meaning of the word – your clothes are the last literal protection you have against his attempts to worship you.

“Perhaps we’ll stay there... Forget all this,” he chatters lazily, clearly in the same sweet bubble as you. “Ja, that sounds good… I’ll keep you there until you come to your senses.”

“That sounds like a kidnapping scenario,” you comment with a soft smile on your lips.

“Ah. My plan is ruined.” 

You crane your head to look at him. “No... Not ruined.” 

“No?”

“Just exposed.”

You figure it was only a matter of time before this snuggle turned into another make out session. This time, the shared kiss is purposeful, full of presence and slow need. The anxiety is gone, the rights and wrongs of this world tucked somewhere far away.

“We need to stop doing this,” you whisper into his mouth, brain turning into mush from the way he holds you so gently.

“Why…? It feels nice…”

You can’t argue with that, and when his hands start to travel, you do nothing to stop them. 

He slides a palm down your curves, pulls you closer by the waist, cups your butt when you don’t seem to protest. Usually, this sort of behaviour has been a little too much, you have treated it as a bridge that shouldn’t be crossed. Now, you let his hand travel down your thigh, you allow him to grab a handful of your skirt and slowly, slowly drag it up.

When you still don’t protest, his unhurried kiss turns into a delighted, hungry one. 

He finds nothing but skin underneath your dress, and starts to explore your thigh with a trembling hand. He's warm and big, both gentle and calloused, and you can’t help but think how obscene you must look with your black robes dragged up like that, a man’s hand desperately searching for the treasure between your legs while your mouths devour each other in a slow, sloppy kiss. 

His fingers slide up, up, up until they meet the fabric of your panties, then come to a halt right above the mound of your sex. In both horror and thrill, you find your thighs parting, inviting him in, heart racing in your chest as König finds your underwear not only wet but soaked through.

That’s when he groans – into your mouth, hot breaths hitting your face as he examines you through the panties like it’s business as usual that you’re so wet. You’re both ashamed and exhilarated – you haven’t even shaved. And he’s about to…

“Mh–”

You feel him probe the side of the fabric, then casually sliding your poor, soaked underwear aside. Your wet folds are exposed to cold air and warm fingers; the last of your armour, your pride and shame and vows, drift away like they were made of nothing but simple steam. 

He drags his fingers across your folds, unhurried and pleased to meet you so ready. The fact that this man could crush your windpipe or break your spine, he could grab your thighs and force them apart like sticks, have his way with you if he wanted, doesn’t make you afraid of him like it probably should. You know he would never hurt you, but the intensity, the intimacy in his glare and touch, are enough to make the air around you feel electric. 

“You’ve never been with anyone…?” 

The question is breathless and thick, causing your core to tighten.

“No…” 

Is it that obvious…?

“Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’ what…?”

“Nothing. You’re sweet.”

He doesn’t try to steal a peek at your glistening sex, all bared and slick for him. He only has eyes for you. Your rushed breaths, how they hitch in your throat when he brushes a thumb over your clit. Your lids, fluttering over defenceless eyes as you try to search for something to ground you. But there’s nothing to hold on to but him, so you anchor yourself in the dark hunger of his eyes.

“I tried to leave you alone. I truly tried, Kätzchen… But you’re so sweet it’s illegal.”

The words hit you, loaded with lust, but you’re too weak to answer him anymore. Pitch-black darkness stares back at you as the sounds of your drenched pussy fill the room. You want to touch him too, but you’re too shy, still trying to silence the buzzing beehive of your brain and come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. 

“I should’ve come back for you… I knew I should have, right away. I was too dumb, meine Liebling…”

Starved and dreamy, he looks down at you, whole body tight as you hold on to him and take in his confession. Only, you feel like you’re the one who’s confessing here… He seems to read you like a book, giving you just enough to keep that adoring look on your face.

He slips a finger in, and you stop breathing for a second, the room seems to go darken, even when it’s high noon. Time slows down while your heart thunders in your chest, giving you a sense of urgency where there is none. Pulling out and adding another finger straight away, he ushers a mewl out of you.

Your fingers curl around his shirt, pulling and tugging it as you try to keep intact. A deep rumble echoes in his chest when he sees you so pliant, clutching him like you’re drowning. 

“I know you want this,” he says, voice so rough that you barely recognize it’s him. “Don’t hold back…”

You try to beg him for more but the words come out as a whimper without a voice, causing something dark to flash behind his eyes. That’s all the reply you get: a pleased, filthy stare of someone who’s about to wreck you up. He must like his victims like this, too: on their backs, begging for mercy before he finishes them…

Blinking in despair, you try to drive the intrusive thoughts away, but he’s already upon you. Crossing the last breath of air between you, he captures your mouth in his.

You can do nothing but take, take, take: his fingers and his mouth, greedy for the rapture that’s already blooming in the distance, rising like a tidal wave. He won’t stop kissing you even when you spread your legs further – to what end, you don’t even know, because he fucks you without effort, keeps you pressed against him in a way that says you’re his.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tasting him, your whole body going tense before you erupt with a miserable, pained moan.

You reach the peak and break, right into his mouth, around his fingers, the weight of it all almost unbearable. He groans on your tongue, kissing you while you milk his fingers, your inner walls hugging him in waves.

Nothing moves except you, the shudders and squirms gradually leaving your body while he draws circles on your clit, lazy and somewhat absent-minded, like you’re his favourite toy now.

The release brings with it a roaring wave of sadness, a deep grief, something that has been locked up inside you for months – no, years, now brought to the surface from the bottom of a stagnant sea.

He lets you go reluctantly, releasing your mouth so you can breathe more freely. Burying his face into your neck, you decide to do the same, escaping to the solace of his strength while trying to prevent tears from welling up. 

König doesn’t yet understand that your release continues as a cleansing wave of relief; he only pulls out, slowly and carefully, gently sets your panties back where they were, straightens your dress, and hugs you as if nothing ever happened. 

You start to cry in full, not even knowing why. You just know you’ve wanted this for ages. This connection, this ecstasy, this mutual presence and fulfilment, this sense of belonging to someone. 

“Scheiße… Did I do something wrong?” 

König finally realizes you’re crying, and grows taut from the middle like an iron cord. The pure concern in his voice only makes you bawl louder and grip him tighter, and the man starts to veritably panic.

“Kätzchen, I–”

“No, no,” your jaw is shaking as you try to explain. “I just… It’s…”

You’re hugging him so tight that you don’t know where you end and he begins, but as König caresses your back, swallowing as he does it, you eventually come back down to planet Earth and back to this bed. 

“Did you like it…?” He asks, still with so much worry that you could announce your love for this man right away.

“Yes… Very much.”

“Gut.”

You think about returning the favour, but selfishly, you’d want nothing more than to stay here like this, in his arms, for just a few more minutes. Or an hour... Well, if you got to decide, you’d stay here for the rest of your life.

“Come here,” he says while you’re already locked in an inseparable embrace. He doesn’t make a single move to coax you into touching him in return, and after a few seconds, your voice comes out as a frail question.

“Should I… Do you want me to–?”

“Shh.”

…

Six months without him. 

Six months, and now you couldn’t bear to be apart from him for six hours.

You’re glad you were sensible enough to shave before running to him that morning. Making up more excuses about how you’re seeing your friend because she just suffered a terrible loss and needs some spiritual and emotional support, you sneak a couple of blocks down the street to see König. If anyone suspects something, they say nothing, but you feel the lies as a grimy cloak upon your shoulders as you hurry up the stairs of the B&B.

The shadows dissipate when König catches you in his arms. You get smothered with kisses as he spins you around, making you chastise him for being so careless with the wound. 

It’s, of course, difficult to scold a man who’s kissing you so profusely… You’re starting to feel like he wants it to open again so that he never has to leave this place. To be honest, you wouldn’t mind it either if you two stayed here forever.

“You’re crazy, and silly, and I like you,” you tell him while looking down at him – a strange thing to do, even if the man has picked you up like this once before. 

“Is that so?” 

His eyes always light up when he sees you, but now, he looks like a man in love.

“Yes... I like you a lot.”

“And I like you. Do you want to see how much?” 

He gives you that slightly crooked grin that reminds you of feline predators, or fantasy creatures who are up to no good. He also moves quickly for a man of his size, and before you know it, you’re thrown on the bed like a sack of potatoes. As you laugh and try to adjust yourself on the bedding, he’s already on his knees, head quickly disappearing under your robe.

God, he’s not going to–

“What are you doing…?” 

“Giving you a kiss,” comes a muffled voice under your dress.

He’s headed straight between your legs, two days worth of coarse stubble scraping the insides of your thighs as he goes.

“But… But what about your injuries?” You try to scurry upwards on the bed, hands shooting instinctively to hold his head in place before he does something utterly shameless. 

“König–”

“Sei ruhig.” 

God – you’re not the most confident woman when it comes to these things to begin with. It’s one thing for a man to lay his fingers on you and look you in the eyes while you cum, and another thing entirely to place his mouth where you’re wet and aching. 

What if he won’t like it...?

What if you’re not beautiful enough there? 

...What if you taste odd? 

You’re shy, as any woman would be on their first time getting head. You’re infinitely grateful to yourself for shaving because there’s a delighted, surprised sound under the robe when König strips you from your underwear.

“For me…?” 

He’s smiling at your pussy, voice dampened by the thick cotton, and you thank God that he can’t see your mortified face right now.

You brace yourself for a delicate kiss, maybe a tentative lick or two. But the soft tenderness of yesterday is gone as König presses his whole face into your sex, giving it a good inhale followed by a good, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. 

Wrenched awake from your semi-relaxed state, you jerk up on the bed as he does it again. Then come the flat-tongued, starved licks – your pussy wakes up after recovering from the initial shock, giving a full throb against his stubbled jaw. König breathes a short laugh against you, pleased with this response.

The noise of him “kissing” you is obscene and only gets worse when he drags his tongue up and down your slit. You truly hope the doors here are solid wood because you can’t stifle all the sounds that escape you. For some reason, it is vital for you not to let the old receptionist know that a humble sister of Christ is getting licked to ruin in his establishment. 

You’re stunned, and a bit appalled – was this all it took to turn your nose up to your vows? A big man with big arms and a big gun? Some guy who wants to get under your dress after a few weeks of acquaintance…?

Because that’s what this is, a few weeks’ acquaintance currently under your robes, eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

The things you’ve imagined him do to you are shameful; even now, you fantasize about König picking you up and taking you against a wall when he gets better. This man treats you right, he treats you sweet, but you want more, you need something earthly and raw, and him lapping you under your habit is precisely that. It’s ravenous and adorable at the same time, so conflicting that you don’t know who you are anymore. 

You’re going through several stages of ego death and bliss; you’re going through a crisis of faith and multiple rebirths while König is having a field day with your pussy. It should concern you that he’s so eager to wreck you like this. It should arouse suspicion that the playful aura of this man changes whenever he gets between your legs... He becomes deliciously dark somehow, dark and base and addictive, and you wind into another plane of existence with him, to someplace only reserved for you two. 

“König,” you whisper. “I’m– I’m about to cum…”

“Uh-huh. You have my permission.” 

It’s dark, again, so smooth and rich that your inner walls clench, then flood with pleasure and pain. The inevitable orgasm is thigh-shaking and soul-ripping, your moans long and pitiful now. They’re not whimpers but cries, bare and pained as he continues to bully you with his tongue, grunting silky sin into your core. 

You can feel yourself leak on his chin as you cum, violently, forgetting the whole existence of the man downstairs. He turns you into an overstimulated, limp, heady mess – your chest is heaving by the time König emerges from under your robes.

“Oh God…” 

It simply escapes from your lips when you see how wet his jaw is. There’s a pussydrunk look in his eyes as he takes a look at his good work.

All thoughts of What if he doesn’t enjoy it evaporate when you see the demanding erection between his legs, pointing at you so viciously that you feel pity for the fabric of his pants.

“Ja... I made you see God?”

“Stop it… You’re so cheeky...”

“Eh. And you’re technically still a virgin. We need to fix that, don’t you think?”

“I don’t feel like a virgin.” 

“Well… I can take the blame.” He gives you a naughty little wink. “Remember? I would go to hell for you.”

And as if you weren’t in over your head already, he starts to drag your robes up. Too limp to do anything about him unravelling you like that – not even wanting to prevent it – you continue to catch your breath as his eyes go wide.

“This is what you’ve been hiding under here all this time…?”

He tucks the thick fabric up until your breasts are exposed. You’re not wearing any bra; you stopped wearing them years ago as useless and immoral. Your nipples perk up from excitement under his stare, your panties wrenched down in a hurry, now crumpled and forgotten somewhere between your thighs – the look on his face is priceless as he takes in the view of your exposed body like you’re a Christmas present he just opened. 

“You naughty girl…” he says thickly, and while you’ve received plenty of attention these last two days, it still makes you feel odd to be adored like this. His hawk eyes fly back to you, the corner of his mouth tugging up with some new, nasty idea.

“Want to see what I got?”

Oh God…

You don’t even get to express your consent – which would be enthusiastic – before König pulls the waistband of his boxers down. 

The cock that springs free is long and thick, heavy and red-pink from the tip that’s pointing straight at you. Curving slightly to the side, it’s even bigger than you thought, somehow having been rendered harmless by his pants, making it seem hefty but never that tall.

Your friend was right about him – tall men have tall dicks… Big hands indicate a big dick, too, you remember as you watch how he wraps tall, lean fingers around himself, giving his shaft a slow half-stroke. 

“You want to practice with me?”

You quickly rip your eyes up to his – you’re the world’s lousiest nun, caught staring at a cock like that. König only seems proud that you’re so intrigued by it, his eyes watching over you with dark amusement. 

“Uh–huh,” you swallow and nod – Christ, your voice is breaking… 

And whatever he means by “practising”, you can only hope that he’s not going to put it inside. There’s not even a condom for crying out loud. 

It’s a sigh-inducing thing when he gets to it, rests the heavy head of him on your clit, then drags the fat tip down across your folds.

“F–uck…” his head falls back a bit, lids fluttering closed from the way your slickness feels against him. That’s the most sensitive spot in a man – more of your friend’s advice floods your brain as you watch how he does it again, rasping while guiding himself up and down your slit.

You’ve never seen him so serious: his brows furrow together as he explores your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself while stroking his length. Agonizingly slow, you can see his balls hang heavy and gradually pull tight as he continues to work his cock. 

You know you should touch him, return the favour at last – but it’s hard to interrupt a moment like this. You’re mesmerized to see him already tensing from the chest up, the tendons on his neck becoming visible as he grits his teeth together.

“Kätzchen…” he rasps, “Would you mind if I…”

You fear that he’ll ask for permission to slip it inside, tempted and weak-willed. And to be honest, you’re not sure if you’d have the will to deny him.

But that’s not what he has in mind, apparently, as he begins to fist himself in a slack hurry, with half-lidded eyes and a slightly open mouth. He just wants to cum like this and ease the pain that must be terrible after days of sexual tension…

And seeing you laid out before him, naked and dreamy and bare, licked stupid just moments ago isn’t helping, that’s for sure.

“No,” you whisper, “No I won’t mind…”

You brave your heart to reach out and touch him: it’s just a shy hand gliding down his chest, but it makes him groan from pleasure. A brush of fingertips across his abs, and his muscles contract, and when you slide your palm over his hipbone and coax him to come closer, he finally leans forward and on top of you.

“Kätzchen…” he groans in whispers now. “You’re so wet…”

He could slip it in from this position, search for your opening and rough it inside. It’s tempting, so alluring that you almost say please – but that would be a catastrophe, and so you only look up at him, speechless when he supports himself on his hands and starts to glide up and down, fucking himself between your thighs. 

The bulged tip caresses your clit each time he pulls back – you doubt you can cum another time like this, but he sure as hell tries his everything to get you off too. 

“You want it…” he grunts above you. “You want me to fuck you. Right...?”

“Yes… But–”

“I’ll get a condom.”

“No, wait–” 

Now it's your turn to panic. You were always taught that condoms are unacceptable, while simultaneously, you know you could never do it raw, not even with König.

This is a moral choice you've never had to face before, and your brain is no use to you now. It's riddled with chants of Put it in and Forget about the bloody plastic because even with your zero experience you know it wouldn't feel as good as skin.

"No? It's a sin or something?" 

König pants above you, both tired and needy, and you nod with pleading eyes, not knowing what else to do. 

"Ok… Ok," he adjusts to the new reality while hovering on the brink of eruption. "I'll talk you out of it later..."

You give him a small smile, and he answers it with his own, slowly, starts to move again. Just the feel of the smooth surface of his cock dragging up and down your slit is enough to bite your lip and moan. Sliding your hands over his waist and down his butt, you give him a good squeeze–

And were he inside you, the effects would have been disastrous.

He cums abruptly, with a stiff, broken groan as soon as your nails dig into his skin. Hot, heavy seed meets your folds; it’s thick, the spurts neverending as he continues to fuck himself between your thighs with little control. How you still have anything left to give, you cannot comprehend, but the sudden, messy orgasm of this indomitable man makes you cum as well. 

Everything’s hot and sticky and dreamlike, almost pornographic, your thighs drenched in cum as he ruts through the orgasm with you. You roll your hips in sync with his, arriving at the end of your own mellow, beautiful peak, wondering how on earth it can only get better every time you have sex… 

The afterwaves are magical; you basically came together, and it hasn’t even been in yet. If this is what sex is like, mind-blowing and relaxing, hot and sweet and fulfilling with the right person, then you feel both dumb and proud for saving yourself for König.

And you’re starting to realize that you might just have a boyfriend…

No – not a boyfriend.

You have a man.

…

König orders food – or goes downstairs in nothing but his shirt and boxers and makes the poor man order it – while you lie in bed, under covers, still high from all the lovemaking. The room must be smelling like a sex cave by now. 

You take a quick shower while waiting for the delivery, mentally berating yourself for being so reckless. Having a man cum all over your folds is not exactly a safe way to practice sex… You’re doing everything wrong, asking König if he has any diseases when he comes back. 

He just pulls you back into his arms with a gentle laugh and says: “What do you take me for, a jerk? Of course I’m clean, silly kitty.”

That calms your nerves a little. You’re feeling anything but virginal right now, and putting on the black, heavy robes of a nun doesn’t sit well with you. You leave them on the floor, making König a very happy man by deciding to sit on the bed completely naked. 

You reach for the comforter when there’s a knock on the door, and clutch it against your chest like a paid woman while König pays the courier – still in his black boxers and t-shirt, like he’s just a guy who happens to live here.

“What...? Eat?”

The smell of Nepalese food fills the room: the rich, mouthwatering scents in stark contrast to what you’re used to at the convent’s kitchen. Butter chickens, lamb koftas and flatbreads are laid out steaming on the bed between you, and König attacks the food like someone who hasn’t seen a meal in weeks.

It makes you smile; him being so happy with simple things such as good food and some kinky sex, a nice cuddle and a nap to top it off. He munches on the food with his mouth open because it’s so hot – the man’s secretly so greedy that you can’t help but wonder if he had enough love, food and shelter as a child.

“Do you do this often?” You ask when he rips another handful of flatbread to dip in the sauce. 

“Seduce women.”

“Seduce…?” He laughs. “Kätzchen, I couldn’t seduce a woman even if I tried.”

You’re unsure if he’s dodging the question or being humble – or worse yet, if it means you’ve been an easy conquest.

“You just did,” you point out, realizing you’re sulking when König tilts his head with curiosity. 

“Oh. I’m sorry… Did it hurt?”

You grab a pillow to throw at him, but he dodges it and laughs.

“Careful with the food…!”

And of course he isn’t. 

You decide it’s useless with him, and besides, jealousy is not a good look. But you just can’t help it... You’re so in love that it’s not even funny anymore.

To you, he’s a hero and a God in one man, he’s both Satan and the Saviour. But to König, you’re probably just a nice foreign friend... Some cute nun he met months ago, who he finally gets to grope and taste and, hopefully, soon fuck. He says he doesn’t have time for women, and yet he licks you like a professional – not like you know what a professional in this area feels like, but it’s pretty clear that König is not a virgin even if you are. 

It must be nice to live a dangerous life and bump into women on the street... Woo them off their feet and leave them yearning, then get shot and cared for by some fussy, naive nun who’s head over heels for him. Perhaps it’s his favourite pastime hobby to torture ladies with flowers and letters and some cock and then leave like a cowboy. You wonder if he has a girl in every city – girls who aren’t nuns, girls who know how to show him a good time.

“Kitten... I’m not like that,” he says, a curry-drenched piece of bread dripping sauce over his fingers. “I only hold hands with you. Now that you finally let me.”

And you don’t know what’s more decadent: eating naked on the bed after making love, or being a Catholic nun who’s about to beg a man to fuck you, with or without a condom.

He finally notices he’s about to make a mess on the sheets, and gobbles the food as quickly as he can before there’s sauce all over the bed. Licking his fingers with dark, glimmering eyes set on you, you quickly focus your attention on the food.

The bastard is flirting with you every chance he gets, even when you two are trying to eat... 

“Is this what you call holding hands?” You ask, reaching for a piece of bread he's offering you.

König looks at you a while longer, with an expression he sometimes wears when conversing about serious, deep subject, the issues of God and Heart.

“This is what I call liking someone so much it hurts.”

…

König learns your body language; he knows it like a native speaker by the end of the week. 

You, on the other hand, learn that he’s ticklish on the sides of his stomach and behind the ears. You discover that he gets hard if you caress his abs or whisper in his ear that you like him... You learn everything about what kind of handjobs he likes; you find out that he almost rips the sheets apart when you take him in your mouth.

You lie on top of him, you lie under him, you let him hold you any way he likes. He moves you around like a doll, kisses you until you’re soaked, laughs into your neck when you tell him he’s being impossible again. He loves your breasts religiously, bites and nibs and licks them until you grab his head and tell him you can’t take it anymore. He has an oral fixation for your body and has to kiss every part of you: your inner thighs, your hip bones, the quivering place just below the navel; your neck and fingers and arms, even the arch of your foot. 

You receive attention only reserved for saints, and fear that someone will notice the smell of cum on you, or the musk of a man, lingering in your hair. Your sisters could easily notice your flushed lips if they wanted to. They could see the dreamy smiles, eyes that have just seen God, but everyone is looking inward, and no one sees how you rebel against the Lord right under their nose.

You stay strong in your no condoms policy, but practice with König every day; you practice so much that his wound opens and starts to bleed.

“Oh my God…”

“Heh… It’s okay,” he says as your stare drifts down to the side of his stomach. The bandage is slowly blooming with red, and your crazy soldier would simply go on if you didn’t order him to lie down. 

You’re both naked as you start to patch him up, convinced that this is some sort of a punishment for being so reckless. König only smiles on the bed while you treat him; it’s like his master plan finally worked.

“I like it when you take care of me,” he explains while you clean up the wound. You raise your stare, and in place of a horny, able-bodied man, there’s briefly a boy, a kid who used to make himself sick as a child to get at least some attention.

“Has no one ever taken care of you…?” 

“Not really.”

He grunts when the antiseptic seeps inside the wound – you wince, sympathetic to his pain.

“Is that why you like me?” You try to chitchat and take his attention away from it, secretly nervous when fishing for details on why he would want to be with someone like you.

“There are many reasons why I like you.” 

“Such as…?”

“Your smile, for starters... I like that. And then… I really like your ass.”

“König...”

“What, I’m not allowed to?”

You purse your lips to scold him, but really, your heart hurts so much it burns. There are a million doors to this man, but he only keeps one or two open at a time, to prevent an attack of some sort. 

“I like your devotion,” he says, finally with some serious air about him. “Your kindness. You don’t hurt people.”

“...But you do,” you whisper. It’s not an accusation, only a comment. 

“I would never hurt you.”

The playfulness is gone, and while you miss it, you also like it when König gets fragile like this, stripping himself of all the shields that make him a strong, confident merc.

“Sometimes we have to fight for the things we love,” he continues, probably explaining why he endorses violence.

“Killing is a sin,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“Kätzchen... You can’t tell me it’s a sin to kill the ones who would try to hurt you. You can’t tell me it’s not love to hurt them back.”

You look at him, calm and adoring on the bed. He’s so sure of his choices, like an archangel set on the borders of Eden with a flaming sword in his hand... 

And the rose is starting to unfurl, the enigma finally unravelling itself. You’re the sacred Other, the opposite of him, you’re the great Mystery he’s infatuated with. You have peace and faith and hope and love: everything he lacks. 

And he’s the opposite of you. Fierce, vengeful, violent… Hopeless, suffering, without peace. Ready to dive into the world and bathe in it, be it a pool filled with love or blood.

He’s searching for the answers, too, only in different ways.

“And no one ever will.”

“No one’s trying to kill or hurt me,” you whisper, trying to stand brave under that flaming stare. But he’s stronger than you, even when recovering. He pulls you back to the bed and in his arms because that’s where you simply belong now, and caresses your cheek, as gently as you caressed his withered flower in your cell.

…

You know your days at the convent are coming to an end, but when the abbess gives you a warning after the fifth day of you skipping half of your chores, appointments and prayers, you go to see her. 

Without mentioning König or what you’ve been up to lately, you simply tell her you’ve decided to move on with your life. You say you’ve studied your soul for months now, coming to a conclusion that the life of a nun doesn’t suit you after all. 

These things happen, and people have left before; it’s nothing new under the sun that a nun or a monk wishes to return to the world. This is not a prison, you remind yourself, knowing that your departure will send some waves through the place but that eventually, people will go on with their lives.

You will probably be forgotten in a year: someone else will take your place, and you will continue your adventures someplace far away from here… Or that’s what you hope. 

But even if things didn’t work out with König, and you somehow ended up alone, it has become clear that you can’t stay here and continue this double life.

König’s offer doesn’t sound too bad: the Austrian Alps sound very enticing, actually. A simple life away from the buzz of the city is a golden opportunity for you; peace and faith can remain in your life without preventing you from participating in it. If only you knew whether he was kidding when he said that…

“Are you sure, sister? This seems like a rash decision.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I… I think I have found something,” you try to awkwardly explain. 

“Something… Or someone?”

“I just know that I can’t stay here. It’s not right.”

“On that, I agree.”

You go through the procedures, ritualistic, almost. The abbess asks whether you understand that this cannot be undone: you can’t just leave and then come back if you change your mind. The doors of the Church will always remain open to you, but your vows cannot be renewed, not in this convent. If this acquaintance of yours turns out to be a disappointment, you cannot simply come back here, don your robes, and start over.

She’s only doing her duty, and you try to listen respectfully, nodding as she lists the things that will be out of your grasp after you walk out those doors. Thinking that everything’s settled, you inform her you’ll leave today, to which she puckers her brows.

“My dear. Don’t you owe it to this convent to meditate on this for one more day? Don’t you owe it to yourself, to the Lord...? I’m sure the world can wait a few more hours.”

You sigh, bow your head, and bend to her will. 

She’s right; you can’t just leave as if all the years of joy and peace here meant nothing. You have people to say goodbye to, and you owe it to God to say your prayers, not your last, but last behind these walls. You haven’t even attended the evening mass these days; it’s like you stopped being a nun when a certain Austrian soldier asked if you wanted to take a nap with him.

You receive lots of well wishes, hugs, even tears when you tell others you’re leaving. Embarrassed that you almost got rid of your robes and sneaked out to another secret lover’s meeting without even saying farewell, you meet everyone with full presence until you find yourself crying too. 

You catch very little envy in your sisters, but there are some who look at you with jealous disdain when you tell them that no, you don’t even have an apartment yet, nor a job, but that you’ll take your new life as a gift and face it like an exciting adventure. 

Thinking about König all day long, you can’t wait for tomorrow so you can tell him the good news. You hope he understands that you can’t visit him every day, even if it has been your silent agreement that you knock on his door before noon. It’s a good thing that the poor man gets some rest: you can tickle and giggle and practice with him tomorrow to your heart’s content, it’s not like he’ll disappear in the next 24 hours.

He’s in König now; all that bliss resides with him and the moments when you two break bread together, or wash each other, tell each other silly secrets on the bed, fall asleep after a round of good sex.

Except that that’s exactly what you fear while you go about your day. 

Sorrow and excitement mix in your heart with bittersweet torment, but what haunts you most is that you no longer find God in the great hall where your sisters sing. You don’t feel His presence during the Mass. 

Sun sets behind the window, and you sigh while peeking out of your nunnery turned prison. Silence weighs upon you like a blanket, but you can’t get any sleep. 

There’s a sudden “clack” on the window, followed by rap, small pebbles or something clattering against the glass. You rise to sit on the bed, instantly thinking of König and his stupid, silly threats.

The longing is awful, it’s even worse when König was away for half a year because now you actually have something to miss. You wonder if he’s watching the same sweet skies as you, if he’s worried or hurt when you didn’t visit him today.

You wonder if the man has only shrugged his shoulders and left…

It can’t be…

There’s another clack, then another, until you jump from under the covers and go to the window, opening it without even remembering to be quiet. 

As soon as the windowpane glides open and you peek out, you meet König and his stare.

“What are you– You can’t be here...!”

“I was just about to sing,” he grins without even bothering to tone down his voice, letting the remaining gravel in his hand fall to the ground.

Bending his knees, he swiftly jumps up, pulling himself to the window sill like it’s easy parkour, probably opening that goshdarn wound again in the process. No wonder men die younger – you’d have to tie this specimen to a sturdy lamp post if you wanted him to stay put...

Throwing a pair of long legs over the sill, he makes himself at home, forcing you to take a good few steps back as he simply waltzes inside your room.

“You didn’t come to see me today,” he says like it’s some kind of an explanation for this silliness.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you roll your eyes. “Something came up, and I had to stay here.” 

If you tell him that you’ve just renounced your vows, there’s no way you’ll get him out. He’d just say you must celebrate the good news by making love all night. 

“That’s alright,” he says amiably. “I’ll just visit you.”

Trying to argue with whispers doesn’t really help your cause. König only smiles down on you like a cheerful, jovial sun.

“But... It’s... You can’t be here…!” 

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“You and your promises… We both know how well you keep those. Go back before you get me into trouble, silly. We can see each other tomorrow.”

“But I want to see you today.” 

“Well, you’ve seen me,” you extend your hands to your sides, knowing you’ve already lost. “You can go back now.”

“I don’t think so.” 

He takes another step, forcing you to back away until you bump into your bed. Crossing the final breath between you, he pulls you into a kiss.

So much for contemplating your choices and dedicating your last night as a nun to God…

And it’s laughable how fast he rids you of your clothes these days. It’s stupid how fast you’re able to help him get undressed…  You all but tear the clothes off each other; actually, you can hear a seam rip when you both yank the shirt over his head, the new black t-shirt you just bought him a few days ago. 

Does he even know what he’s doing to you…?

Muscles rippling in the fading sunlight, he’s a god mortalized. Body built as a weapon to rip or ram his way through enemies, to you, he’s only ever been the source of joy and pleasure.

You could pray on the altar of his pecs, sing songs and chants to his lips, worship the bunching muscles of his thighs, kneel before the thing that rests thick between them. The sheer width of him is enough to make you drunk: desire pools, brims, until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. 

You lay yourself on the bed, and he follows, like a big panther or a prowling titan. The bed sags as he sets his knee on it, it wails when crawls on top of you. Heavy cock swinging between his thighs, it seems like a cruel joke that you chose this man to be your first. 

And you didn’t expect that you’d lose your virginity this way: in your old room at the holy convent you swore yourself to a few years ago. You didn’t expect you’d lose it to a giant soldier who starts to frantically search for a condom after you whisper to him you’re done with practising.

While theoretically a sin, you’re more sullen with the prospect that you won’t be able to feel the silken hardness of him now that he rolls the plastic on. A little too enthusiastically – as if he hadn’t seen a woman in weeks, let alone cummed all over one two times yesterday. 

Still, you find heat pooling down your stomach as he approaches you, keen and eager and as hard as a man can get when he sees something that he likes.

He doesn’t need to part your legs: you do it for him, and when he sees your pussy all puffed up, leaking a thin stream down on the bed, his brows knit together, the expression reminding you of approaching thunder in summer.

His gaze is heavy like midnight when he guides it back to you – always back to you and your eyes, even if there’s a whole feast down there, prepared just for him. The backs of your thighs meet his as he slowly crawls forward, spreading your legs further apart before the battering ram. 

“Kitten...” he rumbles. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

The springs continue to wail beneath you: it’s like the whole world is against you today, even the stupid bed making it far too likely to get caught. And if you get caught, it won’t be just by some shocked sisters screaming when they find a man inside your room… It will be by them screaming when they find him inside you.

And he doesn’t seem to even care.

“Ach so my little nun… I hope we don’t break the bed,” he smirks.

“I hope you don’t break the bed…”

“You want me to take you down there instead?” 

He nods in the direction of the floor, and you can only blink – your soldier boyfriend is offering to fuck you on the cold cement as if it’s some kind of an option.

“I’m not having my first time on a floor,” you grump.

“Heh. Thought so, princess.”

The possibility of getting caught makes him visibly excited. Hell, it makes you excited... You wonder if he’s an adrenaline junkie, leading a dangerous life and having a life-threatening job, now choosing to try his luck at fucking a nun at a cloister.

You don’t want to be a challenging conquest or a kinky story told to some fellow soldiers at a bar… You want to be a commitment; you want to mean something to him. But you can’t escape the fact that this setting is turning you on. You’re even worse than him, spreading your legs and hoping he’d touch you with that cock; just drag it down your lips and glide it in already.

His gaze is heavy, blue steel, blazing in the darkness as he looks at you so wanton on the bed, a simple crucifix on the wall as the only witness to your deeds. This must be one of the craziest things you’ve done in your life…

Replacing his hand with the head of his cock, he finally lets you have what you need. The tip of him is hot, even when covered in thin plastic, and the sight of him, large and powerful and dark, looming godlike above you, makes you think of pagan heroes and kings. To you, he’s all men in one, the sheer mass of him making your thighs tremble from want.

With a curious finger sliding down the wet, heavy seam of you, he swears when meeting you so pliant and wet. Thanks to your constant “practising”, you’re always slightly aroused, getting in the mood the instant you see him.

Contrary to your belief, having sex multiple times a day doesn’t, in fact, stifle sexual desire but adds to it… It’s like you’ve opened Pandora’s box together, only the box contained all the pleasure in the world instead.

“Are you ready, kitten…?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… We need to be quiet…”

His smile is a flash of a grin in the falling darkness. “I’ll try my best.”

The sound that leaves the back of his throat is a deprived, hoarse moan. He seems to be enjoying it more than anything while you’re trying to remember how to breathe, but when he settles fully in and stays there, you start to actually feel something… Something thick, and heady. 

Settling to your entrance, he tells you to relax, and you try your best with that; you truly do.

But nothing can prepare you for it, the fat head of him sliding in, smoothly and with a spread that leaves you gasping. The fulfilment is phenomenal – you try to remind yourself to relax your muscles as he pushes a few inches in, and then some more, and then some more. More, more, more, until you start to feel your inner walls wake up with alarm. 

Seated so deep that his balls arrive to touch your flesh, your body starts to accept him, squeeze him, hug him.

And it feels good. In a way, it’s the best feeling in the world.

He groans, slightly high-pitched and surprised; perhaps you’re tighter than he expected, or perhaps he can feel the hugging thing… 

Your cheeks are panging with heat – the whole building is silent except for the broken breaths of you two, and the lewd sounds of fucking on your chaste bed not made to take this sort of abuse. Growing only wetter and wetter, you try to keep your moans lodged inside your throat as he starts to fuck you with determination, seeing that you’re enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out the slightest bit, he chooses to head straight back, apparently not wanting to be deprived of your heat even for a second. Thrust by thrust, he pulls out more, allowing you to get used to what it feels like. The bed is absolutely horrid, creaking every time he buries himself back in. 

It’s a punishing of sorts, his cock knocking the air out of you every now and then. The slap of his balls against you is sinful – your room has seen nothing like this, nothing but some shy solo action every few months. Now you’re spread wide open for a good pounding, his hips reaching a pace that makes the rest of the world slowly dissolve. 

Realizing he might be a bit too enthusiastic with a woman who’s a first-timer, he swallows and slows down his pace, causing you to almost scream with frustration. 

“Am I being too rough…?” He asks, panting like he just ran ten miles. Plugged deep inside you, you can feel his cock throbbing and pulling near the point of cumming – perhaps another reason why he stopped.

“No… No.” 

You sound puny under him, fingers flexing over his skin, the great ribs flaring in reply under your touch.

“You want more?” 

“Mm. Needy little thing...” 

“...Yes.”

Huffing in the hollow of your neck, he breaks into a smile and licks his lips. 

You barely catch the hint of degrading tone in his voice, a mocking, something about the way you’re so wet and needy for him stroking his ego just the right way.

Knowing that he’s here for reasons other than just sex doesn’t change the fact that you enjoy getting sweaty with him, spiralling into a state of total surrender. Ten times more powerful than the most blissful experiences with your God, you want to come here for worship again and again, to have his body entangled with yours. 

Ecstatic that you just came, König no longer holds back; he doesn’t even let you gather the remaining pieces of your sanity before he starts to chase his own peak. Taking what he needs from you, the trusts turn into short, quick pumps, some foul German curse hissed between his teeth just before he cums. 

When the tide swells, it’s a bit different: not just external stimuli and shallow friction, but areas never explored now getting nudged as well. The delicious drag of his length in and out of you, the thickness making you feel overstuffed, does make the pleasure well like never before.

You’re not accustomed to this, being forced so dumb by a cock. Cheekily anticipating the swelling wave, it breaks upon you almost without warning. There’s nowhere to escape, and the climax is blinding, the euphoria leaving you without air for a moment. 

You can feel every thick pulse of his cock, and fear for the condom that looked far too tight to manage to take both him and his load. You whimper and cling to him as he ruts through his heavy bliss, entire body throbbing with heat from the joy of spilling inside you. 

When done, he sinks half his weight on you, thoroughly spent, and you feel fulfilled, some deep-seated joy taking hold of everything that once was hollow. Curiously, all shame is absent. The man on top of you is sweaty and catching his breath, but you’re only glad to swim in the messy, sweaty newness of you two. 

“You ok...?”

You want his weight on you… You want him to stay inside you until he grows soft, you need him to be as drowsy and complete as you.

Hugging him tight in the middle of your post-coital bliss, you feel König rumble into your neck.

“Better than ever,” you breathe a smile. “How about you…?”

“...In heaven,” he replies, and you have to stifle a giggle pushing up your throat. He has never sounded so spent. So tired, happy and fragile…

“I just want to be with you like this,” he continues to mutter on your skin. “Can I be with you like this…?”

“Yes.”

He slowly rises to lean on his elbows, propping himself on them one by one. Weary, pleased eyes slowly focus on you, and the back of his palm comes to caress you, knuckles gently brushing your temple, thumb swiping away an escapee hair. 

“Kitten… I’m serious. I don’t want to live without you.”

“We have a tradition in Austria where men sometimes steal the bride.”

“How convenient,” you smile.

“I know you belong to someone else, but I’m going to steal you.”

Your eyes are full of stars, you just know they are. If this is another one of his jokes, you can’t bring yourself to care, not as long as he looks at you like that, eyes so set and determined.

“I’m sure He won’t mind,” you mirror his gesture, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

“I’ll fight Him if he does.” 

“...You can’t fight God,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You open your mouth, then close it, shaking your head on the pillow. In a way, you can imagine him taking up arms against God if it came to that. If there was someone foolish enough – or brave enough – to rise against God, that someone would be him.

“König… I renounced my vows today.”

“...You did?”

The happiness, the pure joy in his eyes, is heartbreaking. At that moment, you know that all his silly jokes, follies, and babbles about taking you to the mountains and whisking you away have been real. They have been true, honest wishes... There is no lie in him, no jest, no fakeness. Just pure, simple joy from hearing that you finally chose him, too.

“I tried to leave in the morning but the abbess made me stay for one more day.”

“Ah... So you’re being held a prisoner here?”

“Kind of.”

The familiar twinkle in his eyes tells you that he already has another plan coming right up. That grin means mischief; but with you, only the sweetest kind.

“Well. You’re in luck, then, because I’m here to save you.”

“You just said you’re going to steal me,” you laugh.

“Call it what you want, kitten,” he winks. “But I’m not leaving without you.”

…

The sun has set, but the evening is bright, the sky filled with stars visible even through city lights. It’s dark in the courtyard as you sneak out of the window with König, trying not to giggle as you escape. You call it a prison break; he calls it Einsatz Rapunzel. Whatever it is, it feels like freedom.

The old man doesn’t even care to look surprised when he sees you clothed in jeans and a simple shirt this time, smiling as you rush upstairs, hand in hand with König.

He whispers promises on your skin, saying that you won’t stay here for long; his contacts will get you to the heart of Europe, tomorrow if you want. You can’t wait to sleep with him tonight: simply sleep with him, finally, curl up together in safety, do the most basic thing all lovers do. You can’t wait to wake up to a fresh dawn together, lovely, curious, and new. 

Night covers you with beauty and grace, his pulse against your palm both a promise and a blessing. You take new vows: promising to yourself to live each day fully and bravely, and never again shut your heart.

The only thing left of you on your old bed is your black and white robe, and on it, a crucifix and a rose, and a note that says:

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love… But the greatest of these is love.

[mickyschumacher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+

𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.

In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.

Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.

A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.

To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.

But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.

You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.

You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.

The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.

You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.

And that was that.

By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.

And you did.

It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.

"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.

Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.

You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.

Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.

You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.

"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.

You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."

You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.

That was kind of the point.

You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.

"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.

You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.

"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.

"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.

"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.

Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."

You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.

You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.

You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.

How did you even get here?

Right. The grocery store.

You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.

The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.

Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.

Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.

"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.

You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?

You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.

"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.

You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.

You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.

You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.

It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.

You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.

Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.

“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.

You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.

"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.

Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.

"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.

You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"

Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.

You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.

Okay... you got this.

"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."

The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."

You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."

Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."

"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.

Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."

"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.

Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."

You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"

"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."

The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."

Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.

You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.

The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."

She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.

You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.

Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"

Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.

Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.

You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.

Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.

You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.

Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?

The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."

Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.

You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.

"Carlos–"

"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.

The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.

Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.

"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.

"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.

"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"

"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."

You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.

Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?

Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.

Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.

With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

"Carlos..." You called once again.

Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"

"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."

Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."

In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.

The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."

You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."

Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.

The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.

But you gladly would for him.

"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."

Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."

You raised a brow. "Am I?"

He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."

Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.

Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"

"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.

But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."

Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.

Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.

You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.

Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."

Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.

You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.

You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.

He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.

Christ.

You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.

"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.

Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.

You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.

Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"

You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."

Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.

You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.

You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.

Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?

Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.

He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.

You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.

Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.

A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.

"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.

Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"

Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.

"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.

"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."

Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.

Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.

Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.

You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.

"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.

You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."

Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.

With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.

Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.

"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.

Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.

You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.

Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."

Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."

Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."

You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.

The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."

Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.

Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.

A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.

Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.

With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.

Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.

"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.

"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.

You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.

Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.

"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.

The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.

You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.

Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.

"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."

"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.

Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.

You were going to be the death of him.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[bernardisgross]

Bim bam boum ! Here's the whole comic i drew for Crossroads @zine--garden , a zine focused one showing and sharing love for Hunter x Hunter ^^

I chose to focus on my two favorite teachers !!!

Bonus, making of & talk in the read more⬇

I was very happy to be able to participate and even more happy to finally share a headcanon i've had for years about Bisky and Wing's meeting.

I don't know how clear it is but basically, Wing is a young nen user who happens to have been taken in by a big criminal family. The boss is using his abilities to forge precious gems from cheap materials, passing them as precious gems he bought for his collection. As a renown collector, he also sells the gems and makes tons of money from it. As Wing's skills become sharper though, his forged gems become more and more precious, making it difficult to tell them apart from real ones.

Having sold a good gem in a batch of "bad" ones, the boss is trying to get it back, framing his client as a thief. He calls for Bisky (a "young" hunter with a good resume) planning to trick her into committing insurance fraud in his place. Unfortunately, she's got a better eye than he thought, and asks for the good gem as compensation.

Feeling antsy about his money, the boss accepts, already planning to get rid of her once the job is done.

Bisky can sense the residual nen from Wing the moment she meets him, that's why she demands he comes with her. She wants to make sure at first that this is a normal child in the wrong place rather than the boss's actual associate.

Making him her disciple just came along the way because she honestly didn't know what to do with that kid LOL but didn't want to return him to a bad place. Also, she saw his potential. Here's a rejected final page (rejected bc I couldn't tie the text properly and wasn't very happy with the visual) where it's a bit clearer that she's got back with the good gem and values it a lot BECAUSE it was made by Wing. (also metaphor, analogy blabla)

I love teachers/masters in stories, i love that trope so much!! It's always so interesting to me to have someone older and wiser share their knowledge with the young waiting for nothing in return. Nurturing and loving, becoming a support with the only satisfaction to witness the growth and blossoming of someone else. I think it's so beautiful to help others in this way, to give a little of yourself with kindness.

I think if touches on other tropes i'm sensitive to like found family etc... So of course, i've loved Bisky & Wings for a looong time, and i'm even more obsessed with the fact they're on the same line of teachers 🥺💕

I was always curious about how they could have met and what could have moved Bisky to take him under ... her ..................... wing.....🔥🔥🔥 lol... anyways !!! I went full indulgence and comics are not my thing at all so if you've enjoyed it, i'm very very, very blessed and happy ^^ !!!

I've also included a rejected sketch of the cover with big Bisky :3

and here's a look at all her outfits !! I love Lolita alt fashion soo much, i do tend to latch onto characters who dress like this... and love making my own outfits for them too !!!

I also made a sticker of Palm for the merch bundles !!

Thank you so much if you've picked up Crossroads, it was great from the start !! I'm so lucky and so grateful to @/gachahugs and all the contributors for having me ^^ !! thank you thank you !

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: flirting, foreign language (german), teasing, petnames, enemies to lovers, mistaking attraction for hatred, reader has anger issues

w/c: 2.486 (istg this was meant to be short,,,)

summary: kaiser is infuriating. there is just something about him that made your blood boil. and when the boy started teasing you in german, knowing damn well you had no idea what he was saying you could only imagine what type of things he was saying about you.

a/n: oh look it’s my favourite trope. mistaking attraction for hatred. <3 kaiser speaks german in this one because *looks at hand* i do what i want :)) you’ll find the translations for what he says at the bottom of the post. they are pulled from my own brain (this is me trying to say i am in fact fluent in german shshshhs) also writing some of kaiser’s lines made me cringe bdhdh ngl he thinks he’s so hot 🙄🙄 and he is also the title is lowkey highkey misleading hahaha

Kaiser got under your skin like no one else did. He always had that particular skill. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, the boy infuriated you to no end.

Everything about him down to his stupid smirk, his playful tone, his insufferable confidence and sometimes even just the way he would look at you… there was nothing in the world that managed to rile you up as much as being stuck in the same room as that boy.

Unfortunately, this was something that happened quite often. Kaiser and you being forced upon each other, like the universe was playing some twisted game, waiting to see who of you would break first and go at each other’s throat.

And you were pretty sure you were losing.

If getting the chance to choke Kaiser could be classified as a loss, that was. Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe you shouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. Maybe you should just wipe that arrogant smirk off his smug face forever and call it a day. Then you’d be rid of the pest called Michael Kaiser.

The boy who managed to bring out the ugliest side of you. An angry side, a spiteful side, a childish side. A side you did not like about yourself. A side you’d rather ignore, push deep deep down to the depths of your subconsciousness and never let see the light of day again.

You had no idea what you did to deserve this. Why the universe decided to punish you specifically was beyond your comprehension. Haven’t you always been an upstanding citizen? Haven’t you always tried your best to not be an asshole, to not let your anger get the best of you? And yet, and yet, here you were once again, standing in front of Kaiser, who was regarding you with one of his trademark smirks, while you were struggling to keep your cool.

The boy knew exactly how to push your buttons and he never held back. No, he seemed to bathe in your attention, all satisfied smirks and gleaming eyes, and your anger only spurring him on in his mission to be the most infuriating man on the planet.

You didn’t even know who started it this time but you were blaming Kaiser anyway. After all he was usually the one breaking the unspoken rule that was put in place for the two of you that said you were not allowed to interact. Because of how little you got along you were also advised to avoid each other as much as possible.

Regardless of who was the initiator today, it didn’t matter. The damage was already done. The “damage” being you, standing here, chest swirling with burning hot anger and Kaiser, who had nothing better to do than make it worse.

Like fucking always.

You hated Kaiser, and most days you were sure he hated you, too. Still, it was always you who got upset with him and it was always he who liked to make a joke out of the whole situation. Probably because he knew it would only infuriate you more.

The boy loved pushing your buttons.

“Weißt du, du bist echt süß,” Kaiser purred, tilting his head to the side as he regarded you, “Einfach zum Anbeißen.”

You frowned, jaw clenching in irritation as you glared at his smug face, the mocking tone of his voice not going past you.

Even when he was speaking another language. Despite knowing full well you couldn’t understand him and that you hated it. He loved it, though. Speaking German when you were already angry, knowing it only made it worse.

Whatever insults he spout at you or names he called you in the other language, with a fake smile in place, you couldn’t possibly know. But you expected the worst.

“Michael,” you warned.

His eyebrow ticked up at the usage of his first name.

That was only a small triumph. He preferred being called by his last name, especially by you. He was a weirdo who got off being addressed with the title of an emperor, and you weren’t an exception. You knew it made his skin buzz, could see it in the way he’d lit up.

Kaiser nodded, seemingly to himself as he leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers of the dressing room. Why you were even in here was beyond you. Maybe today was the day of bad decisions.

“Und dann ist es noch so einfach, dich sauer zu machen, fast schon witzig,” he continued, not dropping his smirk.

His eyes narrowed at you mockingly, hands pushed deep into his pants pockets. He seemed to look relaxed but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, waiting for what you’d do next. If you’d leave, like you did many times, storm out and slam the door shut behind you or if you’d talk back, something you often couldn’t resist either.

Your jaw ticked. Knowing that Kaiser was well aware of how easy you were to anger and provoking you anyways was something that got your blood boiling like nothing else. Your heart was already thumping wildly in your chest, the sound of it rushing to your ears. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, spurting you to act, to run or to argue or maybe to punch him. And worst of all, you could already feel the onset of shivers.

It was such a nasty betrayal of your body.

Whenever you got upset, you started shaking. It was most likely the adrenaline but if driven to a certain point of anger it’s something you couldn’t help. Your hands and your shoulders and your legs would start shaking and you’d stand there looking like a stupid chihuahua — at least Kaiser loved to compare you to one of those.

He loved to make fun of you for it. He loved to make fun of you for a lot of things…

Your body moved before you could think.

“You’re a fucking jerk,” you hissed, stepping closer until you were stood right in front of him and digging your finger into his chest.

Kaiser didn’t appear appalled or the slightest bit worried about your trembling form. His grin was sharp, eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Your anger, like so often, only seemed to spur him on.

He leant forward, pushing off the wall, weight against your finger on his chest increasing as he came face to face with you. Before you knew it his hand was on your face. His fingers found your chin, pointer finger gently lifting it as his thumbs graced your cheeks.

You froze, heart skipping a beat in disbelief at the audacity of this man. Your face flushed, you could feel the anger in your cheeks now.

“Wenn du meinst, Schatz,” Kaiser mused, emphasizing the last word and leant closer, your noses barely a breath apart.

Your hands tightened into fists by your side. You should move. You should push him away, maybe slap him while you were at it but you found yourself frozen, completely shocked by the intrusion of personal space. That was unfair. He couldn’t do that when you were angry.

Wait, no! He couldn’t do that at all!

Kaiser hummed, watching the conflict wash across your face with interest, lifting your chin up higher and dipping his head lower.

That was the moment your brain decided to bid its goodbye, your brain cells frying with its departure.

You had no idea what was happening. Whether Kaiser had just seen something on your face and gracefully decided to take it upon himself to remove it with his lips, or if he had finally thrown his last bit of dignity out of the window and was planning to bite you.

Which didn’t make much sense, because out of the two of you you were certainly the one struggling to keep yourself from being violent with him. He had never even come close, unless he was as good at hiding it as you would like to hope you were.

Kaiser’s face was still moving closer.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what the only logical follow up to this action was and you stopped, not moving away when you easily could have, waiting for Kaiser to seal your lips with his.

But before it could come to that Kaiser stopped, waiting a moment, before drawing back, observing you out of hooded eyes and taking in your…whatever expression you must be making that moment.

If you had to guess it was probably similar to whatever a crashing Windows would be looking like.

“You look like you really want this ‘jerk’ to kiss you, though,” he murmured, still only centimeters away from your lips.

Before you could decide to do anything, like actually push him away or maybe pull him closer or any other insane thing, Kaiser giggled, fucking giggled, before pulling back. He didn’t withdraw without planting a kiss against your forehead, though, making you flinch.

What the-

You gaped at him, blinking. Then you realized what just happened.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you.

You. had. almost. let. Kaiser. kiss. you.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you!

No, wait, this wasn’t even all there was.

Kaiser had almost kissed you!

Kaiser, the most infuriating man on the planet, the asshole that got off on fighting with you, had almost kissed you. No, he did kiss you! On the forehead. He had planted his lips there, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it wasn’t!

Who even did that? Who kissed their…their…enemy anywhere?

Your hand touched the space above your brows his lips had touched, as you stared at him. He gave you a challenging look.

“You’re….you’re so? You’re unbelievable!” You stuttered, completely out of your depth.

The both of you had entered new territory with this action of his and you had no idea how to act.

“Oh? Am I?” he asked unconcerned.

You glared at him, raising your finger then changed your mind. Instead you turned around and started stomping towards the door. You could not be dealing with this right now.

You simply refused.

Kaiser chuckled, snatching your wrist. “Come on, don’t be like that. If you wanted me to kiss you you should have just said so.”

You clenched your jaw, somehow managed to talk yourself out of actually hitting him and instead only ripped your wrist from his grip.

“I didn’t !”

“Mh?”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me, you asshole,” you bit out, turning to look back at him over your shoulder, face lowered and eyes narrowed to give him your best glare.

Kaiser looked unimpressed.

“Is that so?” He tilted his head to the side, grin cheeky.

“Oh now you can speak a language I understand,” you growled, winning the inner fight against your voice of reason and facing him again.

“Magst du es nicht, wenn ich deutsch für dich spreche?” He feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart. “Das verletzt mich echt.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. Because you were strong. So, so strong. And so brave about it.

“You know I hate that. Stop being so fucking infuriating.”

He snickered. “Why are you even so mad at me all the time?“

“Because you’re infuriating!” You deadpanned.

“And yet you find me irresistible.”

“Irresistible not to beat up.”

“How crude.”

“Shut up, already?”

With every moment the urge to wipe that self-satisfied grin from his face became stronger and with it your resolve to hold back slowly started to crumble.

Kaiser seemed to notice. Just like a shark who smelt blood he could always detect your weaknesses.

“Or what?” The challenged, stepping closer, voice lowering into a murmur, “You know, if you don’t stop being so rude I might actually have to kiss you to shut you up.”

You gaped at him, trying to step back and gain more distance between you when he took another step forward but your feet were rooted to the spot.

Was it really so easy to catch you off guard? Was Kaiser really capable of reducing you to such a mess with the threat of a kiss?

The boy laughed softly, enjoying whatever expression you must be making with your face right now. Maybe this time it was similar to a cornered animal.

“I said shut up,” you repeated, but your words had lost their heat and your face wasn’t just flushed from anger anymore.

A few moments ago you had fantasized of punching Kaiser in the face, and now…now he was saying those confusing things like they had been on his mind for a while now and you were unable to shift your focus anywhere but his slowly approaching lips.

Why did he even think of kissing you? You hated him. He hated you. What kind of fucked up game was this?

Kaiser bent forward again, suddenly directly in front of your face. How he had managed to get so close again was a mystery to you.

“Make me,” he murmured, a challenge visible in his eye.

You snarled, your anger finally taking the upper hand as your arm shot forward, fingers burying themselves in the fabric of Kaiser’s collar. You considered pushing him away, forcing him to give you space. Instead, and for no reason you were able to understand you pulled, yanking him down. Then you pressed your lips to his.

Kaiser‘s mouth felt warm against yours, lips both chapped and soft, the hand now on your waist firm. He pulled you closer, returning the kiss with fierce

You shouldn‘t question this. Not right now…maybe never. Yeah, never was probably for the best.

“Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you pretend you do,” Kaiser hummed against your lips.

The words managed to bring you back to your senses. At least partly. At least enough for you to realize what you were doing. And what you were doing was kissing Kaiser, you, who had been given a chance and still chose.

Had you actually just done this?

“You! I- Fuck you!” You hissed.

This was…You hated Kaiser. You hated him. He made you angry. On purpose! What were you doing here…kissing him?

You loosened your grip around Kaiser‘s shirt and used your flat palm to push him away. The boy didn‘t stumble, barely took a step back when you had already turned around, ready to run off.

Kaiser‘s amused laughter followed you as you pushed through the door and rushed down the corridor. His last shouted words, “Bye Schatz!” accompanying you as you disappeared behind the next corner.

You couldn‘t believe what had just happened.

You had kissed Kaiser. And the worst part about it? You kinda wanted to do it again.

translations:

“You know, you’re really cute. I could eat you right up.”

“Not to mention how easy it is to rile you up, it’s almost funny.”

“If you say so, honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’).”

“Don’t you like it when i speak german for you? That hurts me.”

“Bye honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’)”

taglist: @crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @lordbugs

[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv, Austin is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO POST MY WORK ON ANY SITE*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2,297

PART ONE

PART TWO

“One! Two! Three!” Shouts the crowd. The bell would ring, signifying the end of the tag match. The Usos rolled out the ring quickly before an angry Street Profits could reach them. The tag match ended dirty. Montez’s shoulder was up, but the referee didn’t see it. Josh and Jon knew they got off without being caught and were celebrating on the ramp without care. They would eventually run to the back, vanishing behind the curtain.

Alina is informed to be at the gorilla for Josh and Jon for a backstage interview, and she can hear them as rowdy as ever, drawing near. They would pop out from the dark ramp, bouncing around with their championships in their hands. “Jimmy, Jey, can I get a word? What happened out there?” She says, catching their attention. Jon would drop his sweaty arm across her shoulders while Josh snatched the mic and her hand up.

“What happened out there? What happened out there, Uce, is that we won! Ain’t nothing else happened out there. The Street Profits thought they could hang with us, and what happened!”

“They got dropped!” Jon chimed in.

“They got dropped!” Josh repeats. “Ain’t no one taking these from us, Uce!”

“Yeet!”

“And if you think you got a chance,” Josh takes the mic out of Alina’s hands, blocking her from the camera. She took this as a chance to rid her hand of the sweat he left behind.

“Yeet!”

“You can get dropped too!”

“Yeet!���

“Cause at the end of the day, Uce, you the number twos, and we the ones!” Josh would end his promo with a raise of his pointer finger. His twin would follow suit before they both walked off towards the locker rooms. The cameraman would put his camera down, and the light on its head turned off.

“That was good.” Alex, the cameraman, would say, causing Alina to nod in agreement.

“Ay, Lina!” Josh shouts from across the large hall. “We going out tonight! Don’t make no plans!” Every time they successfully defended their championships, they wanted to go out. Though their night was ending, Alina had to stick around for the last two matches in case the company needed her for backstage interviews.

“Too late!” She teases.

“Cancel that shit, Uce!” Jon shouts, making Alina chuckle softly.

“Text me the details!” She shouts back.

———————————————————————————

Alina didn’t do much clubbing anymore. As she got older, she noticed the club crowd got younger. At thirty-two years old, she just didn’t see the hype anymore. That and it always took her days to recover. Getting her out of the house or a hotel room wasn’t an easy accomplishment, but somehow, Josh could do it every time. Maybe it was because he would harass her until she said yes; He always knew how to make her say yes.

She didn’t like that, but he loved it.

Here she was, standing in a nightclub surrounded by sloshed party-goers, and she had no idea where her group was. What she did know was that she needed a drink. If she was going to be able to tolerate being here, she needed to join the masses. She moved through the crowd, her eyes fixated on the glowing bar at the back of the large room. She hadn’t received any text messages from Josh in over forty-five minutes. All he had to say the last time they spoke was that he was here. When she gets to the bar, she squeezes between two people. They didn't pay her any mind, but the bartender saw her just as she got in.

“What can I get for you?” He asks.

“Vodka sprite, please!” She answered. The bartender quickly moved from her sight to prepare her drink for her. While Alina waited, she took her phone out of her pocket. The screen lit up, showing that she still had no new messages. Her thumb swipes up to unlock it, tapping the messages icon immediately after. Josh’s name was at the top of her inbox, her last message still there. She’d click on the message thread to type up a new message.

Alina: Hey, I’m here at the bar.

The screen would go dark after she sent the message, but she would keep the phone in her hand. The bartender would return with her drink, a smile on his face. “Thank you.” She says. She’d hand over her debit card, allowing him to swipe it. He asked her if she would want to start a tab, but she’d declined. She knew her drinks were on Josh once he found her. She glanced down at her phone; Still no new messages.

A hand would touch the small of her back, causing her to jump. Alina glanced over her left shoulder to find a man who wasn’t her best friend. This man towered over her. If she had to guess his height, she would say he was six foot five inches. He gives her a grin. “Hi,” He greets her.

“Hi.” She returns.

He leans down slightly; his mouth is in listening shot of her ear. “I’m Gavin, and you are?” He holds his hand out for her to shake.

“Alina.” She says, taking his hand. She shakes it gently before letting go of it. “Am I in your way? I can move.” She begins to make space for him. Gavin’s hand rests on her shoulder, stopping her from moving more.

“I came over here for you,” He starts. “I couldn’t walk away without telling you you're beautiful.” Heat began to rise in Alina’s face as her eyes shifted to the floor.

“Thank you.” She says, looking up at the guy again. Gavin wasn’t bad-looking. His black hair was shaggy on his head, his eyes a deep brown that looked almost black. His skin was pale, but his cheeks were faintly pink. He had a nostalgic feel to him overall.

“Are you here with anyone?” He asks.

“I…”

“Yeah, she’s with me, Uce.” A familiar voice chimes in. Josh eyes the man in front of him before holding out his hand. “You good, baby?” He asks, glancing at Alina. Took him long enough, she thought. She slips her hand into his warm one, instantly pulled to the Samoan. Once she was near him, he would slide his arm around her waist. Mentally, Alina took a deep breath to steady her now racing heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She says, leaning in to kiss his earlobe. Josh’s collected demeanor wouldn’t falter at the action, but boy, was he doing somersaults in his head. Gavin glances between the two before letting his brown eyes settle on Alina.

“Lucky man.” He says before turning to vanish back into the crowd.

Alina turns to look at Josh. “Damn, I thought you forgot how to use a phone.” She takes a step away from him.

“My bad, I didn’t know you texted me.” He says. Josh takes in Alina’s appearance. He couldn’t verbally tell her how good she looked, but he’s sure she knows. Of course, she knows how attractive she is. He was always having to fight off men on her behalf. Was he fighting off men for his sake or her own? Both? Both. He was selfish like that. Selfish, possessive—whatever you wanted to call it, he was that.

Alina noticed his staring. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide that he was doing it. He was blatant about things he did when it came to her. “Where is everyone?” She asks, snapping him out of his trance. He looks in two directions before allowing his eyes to settle on her.

“Oh, uh, we got a section. Come on.” Josh snatches up her hand again, pulling her through the crowd. They would zigzag through the dancefloor before making it to a set of stairs. A security guard stood there, blocking people who weren’t them from going up. He would step to the side to allow Josh and Alina to pass. They’d climb the stairs, finding themselves in an area lit up blue. In the corner was a bar that resembled the same as the bottom but smaller.

“Yay, he found her!” Gionna exclaims, jumping up from her seat on a white couch. With one hand, Alina hugs her friend. Josh stood to the side of them, watching the two women interact.

“You gonna let her go, Uce?” Jon shouts at him. The eldest twin always had time to tease Josh and Alina about their relationship. It wasn’t a friendship to him. He was beyond calling it that, as was everyone around them. The only two that were fighting for the title of friendship were the two people involved. Josh reluctantly lets go of her hand, and Alina notices instantly. Her eyes meet his back as he’s walking towards the couch.

“Have you gotten a drink yet?” Gionna asks.

It was then Alina realized she left her drink downstairs at the bar. She looks over the ledge, spotting the small cup sitting at the bar with no one around it. Well, she wasn’t going back for that. “No.” She answers, looking at the petite blonde in front of her. Gionna snatches up the same hand Josh previously held and pulls her over to the bar.

“Alina looks good,” Austin says, watching Alina and Gionna walk towards the bar. Josh and Jon look at each other before Josh looks off in the distance. He could feel his blood pressure rising by the second.

“Not too much on my sister-in-law, Uce,” Jon says. Trinity would slap Jon’s chest, making him bring his hand up to cover himself. Josh looks at his brother, pointing his finger at him.

“Quit playing with me, Jon! I done told you!” His brother would laugh, kicking his feet slightly at the reaction he’d gotten from his little brother.

“Oh, so she’s free game?” Austin asks, standing up.

“This ass whooping can be free game.” Josh snaps, rising with him. “Try it if you want to.” He warns. Austin lowered his eyes at Josh, a mischievous grin on his face. Slowly, he sits down. He wasn’t in the loop about what happens within The Usos friend group, but this little interaction told him everything he needed to know.

“So, like I said, not too much on my sister-in-law,” Jon repeats with a smile. “He don’t play about her.” Josh shoots a glare in his brother’s direction before sitting down.

Gionna ordered a tray of tequila shots at the bar for their group. She got twelve shots for six people. She was on an unspoken mission to loosen everyone up. Now that Lina was here, Gionna knew that the energy in their space would be different. Without fail, Josh and Alina always get weird around each other. “What’s new with you?” She would ask, making a quiet Alina speak up.

“Nothing,” She breathes. “I’m not complaining, though. After that last attempt, I decided to take a break from dating. It’s not worth it.”

“Why? Because of Josh?”

Alina was quiet for a moment. That was part of the reason, but not for what everyone’s thinking. She brings her index finger to her mouth, rubbing slightly at the bottom of her lower lip. It was something she often did when she was choosing her words. “I’m due for some much-needed reflection.” She settled, glancing at her friend. Gionna grinned, her lips twitching as she fought a laugh. “What?”

“Whatever the fuck that means.” She says, laughing at Alina. “I mean, I’m not one to judge…”

“You are right now!” Alina exclaims, causing Gionna to laugh more. The bartender places a tray of shots on the bar before them. Gionna grabs them, moving off her seat. Without another word, she turns to go back to their group. Alina follows behind her, quickly downing the Sex On The Beach cocktail she purchased. She’s going to need more by the end of the night.

“I come baring gifts!” Gionna shouts when they get back to their section. She places the shots on the table and drops down next to Austin, leaving a spot next to Josh open. She sits down, her body turned in towards everyone. Everyone reached for their two shots.

Josh sniffs his shots. “Girl, is this tequila?” He asks.

“Oh, hell nah, Gigi,” Jon says, shaking his head. “This ain’t gonna work for us.” The twins are both leaning to put their shots down.

“No balls.” She says. They pause, glancing up at her.

“Who!?” They shout in unison. They sit up again with their shots in their hands, ready to toss both back. Reverse psychology beats their asses without fail each time.

“Ooh, let’s toast, y’all!” Trin shouts, scooting to the edge of her seat. She holds a shot glass up. “Congrats to my honey and his brother for retaining their championships! Here’s to another successful defense and friendship!” She exclaims. Everyone cheered, leaning in to toast their glasses.

Josh turns to toast his shot glasses at Alina before they both toss them back. The alcohol warms their chests, but they both make a face of disgust before setting their glasses down. “You want another drink?” He asks, tapping her leg. “Vodka Sprite?” She nods. He stands to his feet, moving around her to the bar. Alina watches after him, a soft smile on her face.

“Alina,” Austin sings, sliding over to her. “How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good,” She answers. “You?”

“Oh, never better.” He replies. “Say, I have a question for you…” The pair wasn’t aware, but Jon and Trin were watching. The eldest twin had a grin on his face, not because Alina was talking to anyone, but because Josh was going to lose his fucking shit when he got back.

NEXT PART

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hi! This chapter is a little long! It would’ve been longer but I chose to stop here! I’m sorry if it’s awkward or anything!!

Jey (Josh) is gonna blow a gasket LMAO

Comment to be in the tag-list!

🏷️ list: @wrestlingprincess80 @venusesworld @fearlesschimera @tbmotw @paigereeder @yana3sworld @truefant4sy @sisinever @empressdede @thesamoanqueen

[skelliko]

Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request with friends to lovers trope of Emma daring the reader to do a run and jump into his arms in front of the boys cause Emma’s sick of their pining?

Chifuyu matsuno |°- friends to lovers - g/n pronouns used

two friends, friends that just so happen to make the other's heart run a hundred beats a minute. friends, that talk about the other to their other friends enough to make a 60/60 marked essay. friends, that secretly make fake scenarios of the other before drifting off to sleep. things that just happen when two people get closer than others. that's normal, right?

"-oh yeah, and chifuyu will be there" Emma mentioned, she and y/n were making their way over to the basketball courts where they would meet with the boys, something about them having a small competition because someone wasn't able to have an agreement. and the two were invited for motivation, to cheer on or something.

just the mention of chifuyu made y/n feel fuzzy, their heart grew warm but at the same time, they felt a type of feeling that can only be explained as 'pining' the feeling of being warmed yet also saddened when realising the true meaning of their feelings. they're in love and is longing for him, but also understand that nothing can be done.

"wait he's gonna be there?" it was more of a repeated statement than a question, of course, chifuyu will be there, y/n just still needs to adjust to her thoughts and feelings. constantly being in denial.

Emma is aware of it all, so aware that it's starting to almost claw at her skin from irritation because all she can hear is y/n yapping about chifuyu and their friendship and how much her guilt and sadness eats them up. don't get Emma wrong though, she listens closely and takes everything into consideration however sometimes it may be a bit too much, it's like listening to a friend talk about their crush for the 20th time of the day but only keeps mentioning the same thing over and over.

though a little plan has settled into Emma's mind as well as a little devious smile. she knows y/n likes Chifuyu as more than a friend but this pining has gone way too far and y/n is in need of a little push otherwise this constant loop will never end. y/n would only be taking 360 turns thinking it would lead to somewhere only to end up in the same position.

Emma and y/n were nearing the basketball courts that's on the side by a park. a few people were around such as those who were walking their dogs or taking their toddlers out to enjoy the sun but it wasn't like anyone would disturb the basketball game that the toman boys were playing.

despite there being others in the court the first person that y/n had her eyes on was chifuyu. his blonde hair slightly rising up and falling as he tried to throw the ball into the net but missed making his face cringe a little at himself, but when he turned around to fit back into the game he couldn't help but notice y/n at the corner of his eye making his full focus to leave for a short moment.

it was as if he was struck with a sword in his chest due to their beauty, despite them being at a fair distance he could still make out their eyes that always makes him feel almost lost. though that trance was rid of after Baji slapped the back of his shoulder to get him back into the game, "they'll be watching, try and pay attention" baji knew what he was setting up in chifuyu's mind, though it couldn't be decided if that caused anxiety or determination knowing that y/n will be watching him.

before going back to the game chifuyu smiled and did a quick wave at both Emma and y/n before having his eyes back to the basketball and who's around.

Emma slightly nudged y/n with her elbow closely, "what if... you randomly hug him?"

"hug who?" -y/n

"I shouldn't need to specify, you know who" looking at y/n with slightly raised eyebrows knowing that the person is obvious enough

"...but we usually hug?? I don't see what the difference would be" not exactly enthused by the whole situation, always thinking about him and their friendly relationship causes some sort of desperate feeling to grow inside of her heart, like it's slowly breaking but at the same time also repairing itself with the good and bad feelings.

though talking about hugging him is causing y/n to feel a little giddy as if they haven't done that in ages. even though they have, probably last week

"no but I mean, unexpectedly... jump into his arms! that sort" Emma however had a wide smile on her face, she wanted nothing more than to see y/n get out of this confusing state and see them both finally make some sort of move.

"what?! I can't do that"

"yes you can! you mentioned you've hugged before, what's the difference?" mocking her previous statement

"no no there is a difference though, what if he doesn't like that and I ruin things?" a slight feeling of panic drove over them, just picturing out the scenario of them running up to him to put their arms under his arms and around him but it only being a one-sided excitement is giving themselves embarrassment. can't help but always think about the worst.

"oh cmon you're being dramatic, Chifuyu is the last person that would brush off a hug- especially from you!"

the boys were running around the court dribbling the ball while y/n and Emma stayed outside of the fenced area. occasionally the two would cheer for the opposite teams though it seems as if Emma's team has a higher advantage all because of draken's height. though Mikey and chifuyu on the other team have the speed making the scoring constantly switching.

(Mikey is ranked first, and Chifuyu ranked third in speed from the official rankings)

Sometimes Peh would yell at someone on his team for not being able to dribble the ball which becomes entertaining for y/n and Emma but not so to the others cause it just ends up being a petty argument, though I guess that'd be expected since he's the reason why the game has started in the first place.

"hey, I dare you to jump into Chifuyu" -Emma

"nu uh doesn't mean I have to" y/n shaking their head trying to protest the idea. it still seems like a bad idea though it doesn't mean that the idea wasn't growing onto her.

"don't nu uh me... I bet you want to~" She got closer to y/n to try and playfully pester them a little in hopes of them giving into the idea, "You'll run up into his arms and he'll be taken off guard a little bit but then swiftly gives in and wraps his strong arms around you-" Emma couldn't continue any more because she started to laugh at her own little sarcastic comment,

"what kind of fanfic did you take that from?" both of them having a small fit of laughter picture Chifuyu and y/n in different scenarios but they all came from cringy fanfics that they had previously read together out of boredom at a sleepover.

though in all honesty that's probably how it would play out... maybe. that dare was still playing over y/n's mind.

"I dare you, no buts or if's, it's final"

"why does it matter so much" y/n pouted a little

"it matters to me because-" *gasp* the final point of the basketball game between the boys were scored and the winning team was Mikey's. also the team that Chifuyu is in.

Emma nudged y/n almost frantically, way too frantically. and the both of them cheered on, even though Emma previously was on Draken's side she should still celebrate her brothers' victory. Even though the game on the outside seemed something minor and fun, for the guys it was competitive.

a minor disagreement between Peh and baji so the others chose to battle it out with a game. though halfway through those who had nothing to do with the disagreement, forgot what everything was about and just played like it was a regular game.

"this is your turn, go hug him" Emma leans to the side of y/n to quietly nag. though at that very moment it seemed as if y/n had their strings pulled because after hearing Emma's voice and making eye contact with Chifuyu, it was almost like a direct calling.

or maybe because on their side Emma gently gave y/n a push in the direction of the open gate of the fenced court, her balance got a little unsteady but after that push, it seemed as if the dare was non-negotiable.

slowly walking up and through the open gate soon enough turned into a little awkward run to then being a full-on run with a smile that just screams 'I don't know what I'm doing but I'll pretend I do' running straight towards Chifuyu. nothing else mattered to y/n at that moment, just him and needing his embrace.

he was casually standing around trying to catch his breath after all the running and jumping with the basketball, his body had grown extremely hot and sweat had built up on his forehead that Chifuyu then wiped off with the back of his arm sliding along to the back of his hand.

despite being on the winning team it hasn't really made him feel some emotion about it other than being glad it's over.

he's never once forgotten that y/n was there, part of the reason why his performance got a little worse than how it was in the beginning because his mind kept going back to her. he was like a little kid again trying to impress his crush from afar but kept failing because of a constant repeat of nervousness.

though without him knowing he never once disappointed her, the only reason why he keeps thinking that was because he's trying so hard to reach them but just doesn't know how to without wussing out.

the brief eye contact that they make always creates some sort of spark in-between them. it starts off as a small sparkler but then into a firework that shoots up but doesn't end up exploding. that's the situation they've always been in, hypothetically.

though this time it's different, it has to be, right? the eye contact broke but it felt different unlike any other time, it can't exactly be explained other than seeing it for yourself,

the other toman boys focusing on their loss/win of the game, while y/n got closer and closer his heartbeat quickened unsure of when they'll stop but upon seeing them not slow down he took his hands out of his pockets out of slight panic and as if preparing for collision,

"wait wai-" he panicked about how close they got to him and how they didn't stop, he didn't expect them to just jump up at him, but he didn't hate it.

y/n had gotten closer and without saying anything they jumped up at him and wrapped their arms over his shoulders and around his neck, he stumbled back a bit due to the sudden weight on him but he didn't think twice about holding them in place so that they won't fall off. one arm under their thighs and the other arm over their waist.

It caused the both of them to get butterflies in their stomach, it also felt like the butterflies were transferring through each other by how close they were pressed against.

chifuyu had a happy but awkward smile on his face, he's happy and excited but was unsure of what to say or do at the moment.

"wu- you alright?" he let out a small laugh too before looking over at y/n's face to see if they were in fact okay

"of course I am, just wanted a hug" they made eye contact and it was as if their shared smile was mouthing the same thoughts. 'I want this to last forever' but neither said anything.

though one thing that hadn't registered fully until this very moment is that everyone is watching, and if they weren't before when they firstly latched on, they certainly are now.

"oh shit, everyone's probably watching" Y/n quickly looked to the side and sure enough people were eyeing the two of them with their whispers and laughter, y/n quickly looked away from the group and showed movement of wanting to get back down to the ground however he didn't allow that.

"it's fineeeee, let them be jealous" he replied in an almost whisper with a small tease and his embrace squeezed a little signing that he didn't want to let go.

y/n's face started to heat up a little at the reply and didn't dare to look back up but instead hid their face by his neck. though that didn't mean that Chifuyu was getting all bold, nu uh, he was getting frantic in his mind thinking if he said the wrong thing.

but after noticing the group walk past and happily cheer him on even though it also kind of seemed like an average teenage boy mocking, it made chifuyu loosen up a little knowing that what's happening currently, is good. he didn't need to be reminded of that though but he just needed the reassurance either way.

"you guys should do that more often, it'd help the pinning" Baji quickly mentioned while walking past, he had a proud, toothy smile knowing exactly what he said to both of them.

y/n looked up a little after hearing those words and caught Baji's eye for a second before he left Chifuyu and them alone in the basketball court.

after the group left a few more seconds and he had finally let her down whilst asking a question,

"what made you do that?"

y/n was unsure of what to respond with, say something like 'i just wanted to' or say 'it was a dare'? which one seems more suitable currently?

"it was, um, a dare"

unaware of what y/n has now caused to spin in chifuyu's mind, saying that seemed to be an okay response, i guess it is the truth. though chifuyu didn't exactly take that lightly, in his mind he now has the thought that he's a side thing that can put targets on him for them or anyone now when it comes to dares, the moment seemed so put together and genuine that thinking about it now is just making his smile to weaken a little.

"oh, a dare" he's trying to keep his tone right but it seemed to go down a little as disappointment, even his eyes were avoiding them.

upon hearing his tone and taking a look at his face, y/n couldn't help but let out a panicked gasp, which definitely got his attention making his eyes fall back onto them. it clicked in that the previous response to his question could have been taken the wrong way, but looking back that probably shouldn't have been a questioned response since saying 'it was a dare' after doing the most butterfly-causing act is never the right response. what was y/n thinking?

"but it's not like I didn't want to though! I guess in a way Emma just suggested it" They quickly spoke up about it and explained a little, after some thought to this, it made his smile turn upwards again.

They both took a seat on the concrete floor with their backs against the fence, the court grew completely empty and the sun was almost setting making the sky to be a mix of yellow, orange and still a bit of blue. the rest of the group either went home or to someplace else.

"hey what did Baji mention before? about the pining" y/n mentioned out of curiosity.

"oh uhhh, that's..." he tried so hard to find any sort of right words to save himself here but he couldn't find any, his mind was so full yet he could hardly think and it almost seemed as if it was actually blank rather than full.

y/n saw chifuyu stumble on his words, avoid eye contact and the way his fingers would curve a little making his nails scratch the concrete floor a little. he was nervous, and yet this made y/n almost giddy because they knew exactly what pining meant, they knew exactly what Baji meant and they took in every expression and movement that Chifuyu made when they hugged.

"what if we went out?" y/n randomly blurted out making chifuyu to turn his head in an instant and make his previous, rushing thoughts silent.

"what do you mean by that?" chifuyu looked at them slightly confused, yet hopeful. going out can mean plenty of different things, but there was only one that stood out the most in his mind.

"like I don't know, just us two but..." they were going to continue on but by this time they were unsure of how to phrase it without maybe saying the wrong thing

"so, a date?" having a hopeful tone and smile, y/n shared the same smile and for a few seconds, silence lingered on by, but it was good silence, the type of silence that happens between two people before laughing or saying something that makes the friendship stronger.

"yeah, a date"

or, instead of making the friendship stronger, they make something new bloom. a relationship.

 ♡----

[momojedi]

Bad Batch: Season 3

My Predictions

The final countdown has started and I'm not ready at ALL! Here are some of my predictions for Season 3 and what I could imagine happening!

1. Tech will be back.

Yes, the trope of dead characters returning is incredibly overused. But as many others I have a good reason to believe that Tech might still be alive. Think about it. It’s pretty likely Hemlock managed to locate Tech’s body considering he left us a huge breadcrumb: his goggles.

Why would Hemlock get rid of a genetically enhanced super soldier, especially considering he likely knows how to properly brainwash someone?

I too like to think that Tech might be the black armoured soldier in the front. It’s the same, if not similar armour as Clone X. Maybe these are part of a special type of clone assassins or troopers? Could they be the prototype for the Dark or Death Trooper?

It’s pretty plain to say that Tech will likely come back, though probably not as the Tech we know.

2. Crosshair & Omega Dynamic

We've seen Omega genuinely bond with all of the Bad Batch - except for Crosshair. Despite her trying her best to get to him every time they had the chance to interact, he denied her any kind of response. Whether that would be because he's just too withdrawn or because he refuses to let anyone see his vulnerable side, we don't know so far.

What we do know however, both based on pure logic alone and the fact that we've heard them both involved in a heated debate in the leaked trailer from the Star Wars Celebration last year, is that they likely will spending a lot of time together on-screen now that they're both captives of the Empire.

Hopefully Omega will be able to lift Cross' spirits, he doesn't seem to be doing very well from what we've seen!

3. Ventress will be an enemy!

Asajj Ventress! We all know and love her, so naturally it's incredibly nice to find out that she'll be returning to the screens for the final season of the Bad Batch! Despite they're naturally being some raised eyebrows considering her fate in the Dark Disciple book, I'm curious to see in what way they'll connect the stories!

However, seeing as Ventress could rather be classified as an anti-hero rather than a full on hero, I believe that she won't be helping the Batch but rather fighting them in order to get to what she wants - as she likes to do.

Perhaps she'll end up cooperating when she realises there might be no other solution, but I strongly doubt she'll be any help to them when it comes to following their personal goals.

4. The Fall of the Clone Rebellion

It's sadly no secret that given the events of Rebels and the three remaining clones Rex, Gregor & Wolffe, it's very likely the rebellions aka rescue of the clones didn't go as initially planned.

I could imagine this being explained a bit clearer in the finale, perhaps even leading up to a great fight against the Empire in the end. We can't forget that the series mainly revolves around a rogue batch of clones, so the thought that it might also go out with a clone-centric subject, especially such a big one, isn't necessarily far-fetched.

5. The End of the Mission

And finally, my most tragic prediction: The end of the Bad Batch.

The writers have been making it very clear that season 3 will likely be the darkest season of the show which unfortunately leads me to think that, as much as I'd want it not to be the case, the finale will lead to the ultimate end of Clone Force 99.

I suspect the series to end with the batch ending up together in some way, as the original five, and landing in a tricky life-or-death situation. Perhaps they'll be stuck in a crashing ship with a one-person escape pod or maybe they'll be facing a threatening figure such as Sidious, leading to the decision to sacrifice themselves in order to protect Omega.

Either way, despite season 3 likely becoming a tragic rollercoaster of emotions, I'm glad we had the chance to experience the epic story of the Bad Batch. It's sad to see them go and although these characters have become like a family not only to me, but to many other fans, let's enjoy our last moments with them and let them go out with a bang!

[valiantartwritingweasel]

❦ Oh no, there seems to be only one bed. Whatever will we do? ❦

I have a hate-love relationship with this trope. Will maybe do a women version too but all of them at once would´ve been too much for my pea brain. I also have 4 more dudes in the drafts but i gave up halfway through

it´s kind of romancy-ish as in like, y´all are crushing on each other. Because I want it like this.

gender neutral (no pronouns mentioned) so everyone can feel included

(These are a bit short but it is what it is)

//Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Ayato //

Diluc

You just stood there, awkwardly staring at the room. You felt like you were in a bad romance novel (which you kind of are), standing next to the guy who had your heart skipping multiple beats just by looking into your vague direction. Now in front of a single bed that you, probably?, had to share tonight.

You were no stranger to Diluc, as you did like to venture into the tavern regularly. At first you did it for the drinks and then, at some point, you just came for a chat. With him. Him, his sweet smile and his sweet way of telling stories. You loved seeing him. You...loved him.

The situation now was more of a coincidence. A coincidence you couldn´t really explain. But here it was.

The bed wasn´t like small or anything but the sheer thought of lying in such close proximity to the red haired man made your cheeks heat up like fire.

Not daring to look at him, you quietly cleared your throat „so.. uh... how do we go about this..?“

A short silence filled the room before he spoke up „Well, we could just share the bed...right?“.

You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head, yet you just couldn´t bring yourself to look at him. „I´m sure it´ll be fine“ his reassuring voice spoke once more „if you´re comfortable with it, of course.“

Once more, you cleared your throat, before giving him a small nod „well, yeah. I suppose we can.“

Another minute of silence passed. You didn´t know. Couldn´t know. But the man was just as nervous as you were. Trying his best to voice the thoughts that were clouding his mind, before he spoke up again „We could..stay close to each other...right?“

He too had come to appreciate your presence. Was this how people made their first move? He could only hope that taking notes from Kaeya would prove good for once.

(Would probably sleep on the floor if you asked him to, idk)

Kaeya

Kaeya and you were friends. You always had been. You had shared a bed before. But that was like ages ago.

Now it felt different. It felt more intimate to think about sharing a bed.

You thought it was obvious that you liked him but you could barely tell how he felt about it. He was charming. Very charming. And you never knew how to tell `being charming` and `flirting` apart. Ever. Especially not with him, no matter how long you had known him.

But before you could even say anything, ask how to do this or voice your thoughts out loud, he had already waltzed over to the bed, stretching his arms accompanied by a small yawn.

He did not seem to care, which made your stomach churn a bit in confusing feelings.

Well, good to see that he´s comfortable with you. A bit sad to think that he doesn´t immediately get nervous at the thought of him lying next to you. Maybe he really just thought of you as his childhood friend.

You sighed before following him to the bed, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the heat going through your face.

He was already sitting on the bed, shooting you a look that you couldn´t quite decipher in the dim light. „We should stay close together tonight. Who knows what could happen? Safer to have each others back.“

If possible, you blushed even more, hoping he couldn´t see, before you nodded. „Yes. Yes stay close for...safety reasons“.

When you lied down onto the mattress you could hear him chuckle quietly, before you felt, to your horrific surprise, his arms engulfing your waist. A low whisper reached your ear „There is no shame in cuddling, is there?“ with a smirk that you could literally HEAR through his low voice, he added „for safety reasons“

(a little shit who hides his nervousness very well)

Xiao

With a mortified expression you stood there, in the door frame, staring at the bed.

You didn´t know the yaksha very well, as you had only been in contact with him while Zhongli was around. He seemed... alright enough? He was carrying a lot of sorrow, that much you knew.

You could tell, only because Zhongli was around to make him feel comfortable enough to let some expressions through his facial features.

But you didn´t know why, never wanted to press for it, never wanted to make him feel like he would need to open up to you. So you just tried to keep the contact minimal.

But now here you were, on a journey the old man had set you up to, standing in front of a single bed.

It wasn´t like you were scared to share a bed with him. He didn´t seem like someone who´d take advantage of you at least. But...you couldn´t help but wonder how he´d feel about this..? Would he be alright?

You cleared your throat quietly before muttering „so.. only one bed huh?“. Your voice laced with just a hint of sarcasm.

You looked at him, out of the corner of your eye and took notice of his expression changing. He looked sort of…angry?

Before you could dwell in the thought much longer he had already started muttering „Foolish mortals. Joking at times that require a serious aptitude. Do you expect something to happen? Tell me.“

You were..surprised to say the least. Joking? About what? The irony? You couldn´t figure out what exactly he was talking about. Slowly. Cautiously. You muttered back „Joking about what? What would I expect to happen?“

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity. Slowly but surely you started to feel a bit...uncomfortable. Why was he staring like that?

„I know what happens at night, between two individuals of your kind. Do not hold me to foolish standards of being naive“.

You were flabbergasted, to say the least, before you could get a hold of yourself and murmur „I... just want to get to sleep...No hidden intentions there...“

Now he seemed to be the one who was uncomfortable, averting his face to hide a blush crossing his cheeks. How silly of him. Now he was the one who felt foolish.

A short moment passed and you knew that he was embarrassed about his little outburst. Someone's got trust issues. But you didn't press on it, only sharing a kind smile "I didn't mean anything bad by it. Sorry for the confusion". He nodded and seemed to calm down. After a while he nodded again, maybe more to himself then to you, before mumbling „Sure. I´ll share a bed with you“.

What you didn´t know was that the mf didn´t even need sleep to begin with.

(there´s no way people are just nice, whats ur ulterior motive?? TELL HIM NOW??)

Ayato

It was silly really.

To be embarrassed about the thought of having to share a bed with your husband of all people.

But your marriage wasn't a conventional one, as neither of you married out of love.

It's not like you hated each other, you'd actually say that you got along just fine. You just never got into any...romance situations.

It felt weird, being married already but never having been on a date together. But it also felt weird for you to now try and get closer to him?

There were no books on how to go about this, so you just tried to wing it. Which wasn't easy.

When his eyes looked at you with such precise attention whenever you opened your mouth to say something, it was hard to get any words out at all. You could hear your heart slamming against your chest whenever you focused on his eyes. They were so beautiful.

That aside, right now you couldn't see his eyes. Thankfully. And you were hoping that he couldn't see yours either.

Your eyes were full on staring at the single bed in front of you.

Today, you couldn't venture off into your own room. Today, people could see where you went. Today, people would be able to judge you on your marriage.

Today, you had to stay at a Hotel and today you did not want to put a bad image upon your dearest husband. So you just asked Thoma to book a room supposed for married couples. There was a sofa but…you kind of wanted to make a move on him. To maybe, actually, be married to him? The thought alone made your heart flutter.

You imagined this scenario to be way easier in your head but now, with him being so close to you, you could definitely feel your nerves spiking up and your face burning with embarrassment.

He didn't seem to notice as he stood there for a while, taking in the room, then he turned towards you "just…one bed?". His tone showed his confusion. You cleared your throat before nodding "I thought… well, I thought we could spend the night together…".

The blush on your cheeks did not want to leave you alone but still, you turned your head to meet the amused gaze of your husband.

This little shit was all you could think before he spoke again "Quite a bold move to make. I like it."

[blazinghotfoggynights]

Random possibilities for 9-1-1 based on nothing more than my wandering, weird mind. These are just random thoughts:

What if Tommy is going to become a permanent cast member and he and Buck will last for a while, if not be endgame? Tim Minear seems to love Tommy and BuckTommy. I could see a proposal or marriage by the end of the season to complete the Tommy Kinard redemption arc.

What if Gerrard's return will be used to reinforce how Tommy is now a good man and "good people"? Tim Minear will use it to solidify Tommy's redemption arc and bring him in as a main character.

What if Eddie has a major emotional upheaval and moving back to Texas is a serious possibility? If they have him turn to his Catholic roots for guidance and comfort, I can see him choosing to leave LA and be what he was raised to be. That effectively gets rid of Ryan Guzman and puts all Buddie talk to an end, opening the door to a BuckTommy focused fanbase with no more distractions.

What if Bobby never comes back to the 118 and Gerrard is it? That is an easy way to send that character away.

What if with Bobby cut out, Athena decides to follow him? It wouldn't be difficult to remove Athena, who may decide that Bobby's new career is much more attractive and it's time she retired anyway.

What if with Bobby gone and Gerrard in permanently, the 118 becomes too hostile for Hen and Chim to finish their careers there? Hen could return to school to complete her medical degree (What happened with that storyline anyway?), Chimney could easily transfer, we have seen him training, and that would open the door for Buck to follow Tommy and Tim to create a show following them.

Buddie? There will always be fanfic. It is clear Tim loves the Tommy Kinard character and working with characters who can be hateful. (If you think it is normal to minimize racist, sexist bullying as just "fitting in", keep bringing back characters to infuse that element of hate, have the targets of the hate forgive and befriend their terrorists, then tell everyone how good they are, there is something wrong with you. Tim Minear loving those characters and redeeming them is a tired trope that has been dragged for decades and extremely sus.) Even if BuckTommy is not endgame, I feel the endgame will keep Eddie hetero and whoever Buck ends up with will be lily white and probably male, with that couple becoming the focus of the show. I still believe that right now, the plan is for BuckTommy to endure and end the series together.

Eddie? I think his character is going to be done very dirty. If he caves to his parents wishes for him and becomes the good son, it'll be one of the biggest disappointments ever. I could see him going to church, praying to be guided back to the fold, and deciding that LA is not the place for him if he wants to be a good, devout Catholic man with a son and, very soon in the future, a wife, so his parents will be proud.

What if Buck, who has been desperate for love and acceptance since episode one, changes to be more like Tommy and more like what Tommy wants in a partner? Since Buck is the fan favorite, having him mirror Tommy could support Tommy being a good guy and gain support from the fanbase.

Where the hell are Hen, Karen, and Ravi? Hen is a main. Karen has been around for years, as has Ravi. Why aren't we getting more of them?

I said this last season and I am going to say it again this season, I think the endgame now is for this to end as the Buck and Tommy hour. It looks like the other characters are possibly being set up for phase outs, with their stories being left underdeveloped on purpose in order to tie them up easily.

I could see a spin off in the works focused on Buck and Tommy.

No, I don't have inside information. I am no psychic, although I have ESPN. (Dad joke. Or is it a mom joke since I'm a woman? Whatever.) I'm just throwing random could-be's out there.

[merakiui]

Consider Step-Brother Azul and Step-Brother Riddle being in the same AU. You've gone to school where you meet a nice girl who is just like you! You bond over stories of your too controlling SB (Step-Brother). Only, you never go over the worst of the details because secretly, you wonder if you can get rid of your SB problem by getting that loser a girlfriend. Not that you know it but your "friend" is hoping to shift her creepy SB problem over to you the same way.

It's going to be like a classic sit-com when that double date happens. Riddle and Azul sitting across from each other, glaring daggers. No one can win here. How dare you ignore my sweet sister! You should be ecstatic to have the chance to date her! But at the same time... don't you dare touch her, she is mine!

And the girls, they try to talk up their brother so their friend takes an interest, but all they succeed in doing is convincing their SB that they share their feelings. 'You wouldn't believe how smart my SB is! Perfect scores on every exam!' Riddle blushes furiously from across the booth. 'My SB is so considerate. Anything I mention being interested in, he gets for me!' Azul covers his mouth quickly with a napkin, so you don't notice him inking a little.

AZUL INKING WHEN YOU HYPE HIM UP OMG…… that’s so real!!!!! He’s such a loser!!!!!! So is Riddle aaaaaaaa!!! >_< you’re trying to pawn your weird step-brother off to your friend while she’s trying to do the same. That’s such a fun trope!

Hyping Azul up when he’s so deep into infatuation with you just makes him fall even harder. He’ll be thinking of those compliments for weeks. Riddle’s much the same when you say kind things about him. In the back of his mind, he’s prideful—of course he’s smart and gets perfect scores. But hearing those words come directly from your kissable lips makes them sound all the more sweeter.

Omg and the double dates… your step-brother keeps trying to steal you away so he can spend the day with you when you’re doing everything you can to push him towards your friend. T-T he just loves you too much. How could he ever look at your friend or other people when you’re all he wants and needs? :) most of those double dates end in failure as a result. >_<

[lilith-little-world]

Could you please write some domestic headcanons for reader and wukong? Love your story btw^^ (or more like the concept lol)

Awww thank you, I wanted to do a slight twist to the isekai trope that explains how the reader got transported to another world. Although, the reader is far from the only one. She just happens to survive the transmigration... Kind of. I'm honestly kind of excited to start writing the first chapter soon. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Now to those domestic headcanons, hope there are no spelling errors, I manage to break my Grammarly keyboard every single time I write something-

(Don't you dare judge the quality I was rushing through so badly then I realized I forgot how to fucking draw. I'm going to post some art here, it's going to be meh quality just until I get used to drawing again.)

- At first, it took a good while for you guys to settle down in one place. With you enjoying the urban lifestyle. Since it made visiting shops, friends, and just having a fun day out way easier. Wukong prefers to be isolated, his only interactions being mostly with Mk and you. However, after Wukong complains for the 100th time, you move to Flower Fruit Mountain under the condition he takes you out every few days into the city and that your friends can come and visit every once in a while.

- Surprisingly, he tries to renovate and spruce things up. House feeling a little small? Want a room for your things specifically? He and his clones will start making preparations (Also maybe ask Mk and the gang for help on what exactly to do and if he's desperate enough, he'll ask DBK for some advice.) Slowly but surely, the once small hut becomes more home-like. Then when you're both satisfied, he'll move on making the pathway to the house to the entrance of the waterfall. Cleaning up any debris or rumble of pillars and crumbling murals of the past. It was by your constant nagging that he restores it, getting rid of vines and moss.

- Other than wandering around or chilling at the house you literally have nothing to do. As much as it was a nice thought of spending most of the day doing your hobby, you physically don't have enough willpower to do it every day. One day while laying around, you noticed how dusty and unorganized the house truly was. So that is how you got stuck with cleaning and keeping things organized. Yet that didn't stop there, you noticed small things like a creaky loose floorboard. That you managed to fix after searching for how to on your phone. The sink isn't draining properly, drain cleaner is already on the need-to-buy list. The problem still not solve, time to put in some elbow grease and hope you won't get too dirty.

- However, you're definitely not touching his little hoard that he has been collecting over the centuries. The last thing you want is to release some ancient curse or break something that was once important.

- He can't cook, don't even try to make him, you don't want another fire, so get that cookbook open and pray you made something edible. Over the months you had gotten better, but there's much to improve. Yet, complete failure or not, Wukong still tries it out since he is immortal, it won't kill him, and the last thing he wants is for you to get seriously sick from food poisoning. If the food was not edible, then he's either going to get takeout or you both are going out to eat, give him a few minutes to throw up the abomination you created out his stomach.

- It's only fair that he washes the dishes. You make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's the least he can do. (That's if he still suffers from food poisoning, it's your turn to wash the dishes.) He picks up around the kitchen, any produce you left out back in the fridge. Spices in the cupboard in their usual spots. He knows you do a lot around the house, so it's now his turn to help.

- There's one chore you both do together, it's washing and putting the clothes away. You separate the clothing in their respective pile, while Wukong loads the washer. Whoever hears the washer finishes, loads the dryer, (cough you cough). Then when the loads are done, you guys come together and fold the clothes. While watching tv to pass the time. Although Wukong likes to make a big scene whenever he grabs your underwear or bra, it was only natural that you do the same with his boxers. You guys now know each other's undergarments and clothes sizes after that. Well, it makes shopping easier.

- Wukong kept his word and takes you to the city, and if you want a vacation away from the mountain. He got a temple ready to stay at and landmarks to show you. Over the years, he saw many things and wants to show you all of them. He never liked big crowds, so going to festivals was never his thing until he finds out you enjoy it. Well, looks like he's hanging out with the gang in the city, yaaay... Just make sure you're beside him for a good portion of the time there.

- He was a little hesitant about inviting the gang to the house, but he couldn't say no to both the student that he considers like his own son, Mk and his darling lover, the love of his life, you. In all honestly, Mk and you had already planned a day to bring the group over, and you guys decided to tell him last minute. Even though he would like a heads up, so he can reject the idea, strangely the simian doesn't mind. He had nearly forgotten that the mountain could feel so... warm and lively.

- Just be warned now that he has you beside him 24/7, this touch-starved monkey will be cuddling and kissing you, the first chance he gets. Don't fall for his tricks, he's a sneaky one.

- You made a small habit to groom his fur. Running your fingers through, him relaxing within your hold. If there's a comb or brush, you will get out any tangles or knots. His fur is now soft and fluffy and he is ready for pets and cuddles. You like to spoil him once in while.

- You guys hardly argue or fight, there was a time you even feared that the honeymoon phase will be over and then reality will hit. Yet it hasn't, maybe because Wukong is actually trying to be a better person so he can stay by your side. Also, he saw you angry once and he will do anything not to get on your bad side... again. Wukong tries to get your thoughts first and asks for people's advice, though he still has trouble speaking his ideas or thoughts. Being alone for centuries will do a lot of damage to a person’s psyche.

- So things are pretty peaceful, Wukong is opening up more and you managed to have a happy life despite the odds being against you. Now it's time to answer the question, will you become immortal and join Wukong for eternity, or prolonged/have your regular human lifespan? Sadly, Wukong wouldn't be able to handle your death. It will take all of his last remaining time to ever move on...

Wait a minute-

[thecluelessdoctor]

It's rambling time

*CRAWLS OUTTA WELL WITH A COMEDICALLY LARGE BACKPACK FULL OF NOTES*

I love totk. Don't get me wrong. I love it. But HOLY HELL TO I WANNA STRANGLE WHO EVER THOUGHT 'HEY MAN LETS GET RID OF ALL THE SHEIKAH TECH OTHER THAN LIKE- TWO GUARDIANS' LIKE EXSQUEEZE ME?? MY BABIESSSS/HJ

But on a serious note, I hate the fact how not only Zelda's character development go backwards, it forced a very black and white view on Hyrule. Rauru and kingdom of Hyrule good, Ganondorf bad. Like. What??? EXSQUEEZE ME.

Okz sure, Ganondorf did murder Sonia and steal a secret stone, and attack Hyrule, but like. Let's just- also note this. If the gerudo have a similar story to the sheikah, the kingdom of Hyrule, aka Rauru forced their hand into surrender.

Though I do like the 'keep your loved ones close and your enemies closer' trope (waiting for the ship art/j)

Let me note here, I am rather young, and Botw is what introduced me into LOZ. So. I still have a lot to learn. Anyway! On ward! (Also warning spoilers for TOTK jsndhdbdbdbd)

*sits down on a grassy patch, unpacking bag*

So!! Oh brother where to I start. Let's start with Zelda first because oh my hylia does it hurt.

Ok.

So, Zelda finds out about Zonai and the thing under Hyrule castle, it's understandable that she would be curious! It was established that she was a curious person.

Anyway, she gets yeeted into the past with a TIME power?!? WHAT. I mean it would explain why it took so long for her light power to wake the fuck up, but still?? It feels so random and forced.

Also in BOTW she spends one HUNDRED years keeping a calamity from destroying hyrule, and now suddenly she can't do jack in TOTK?!? EXSQUEEZE ME. WHAT. SHE MAKES A DAGGER GO BACK IN TIME. wOw- link mastered the power in a day- (I'm sorry but I have so many link rambles)

I just MY BRAIN HURTS. also I just- what the fuck happened to the sheikah?!

Yeah we are talking about this now. Like- fuckers are forgotten by EVERYONE- what happened to the shrines?! OR THE GIANT ASS DIVINE BEASTS LIKE WHERE ARE YOU RUDANA- *SOBS* Oh yeah and let's not forget the fact the champions have been forgotten basically. And Sidon moved the statue of his dead sister to make a statue of link riding him. Don't take that out of context. Also how the fuck did they get rid of the lynel up the mountain like?! Even if link killed it for them it would come back every time- endless building there made it so it couldn't come back there-??? Didn't know monsters had manners. I just- UGH.

Ah yes back to the sheikah tech. Everyone, even the sheikah have forgotten it like bruh. Even if it was like- 8 years since BOTW still- they couldn't have suddenly found everything and got rid of the shrines???

Like- the yiga clan (yes fucks I am talking about them) the yiga clan giving up learning about the sheikah for the Zonai makes sense- because the yiga clan has the depth now- and, they didn't have as much *known* access to sheikah tech. But like- PURAH FOR EXAMPLE- WHY WOULD SHE FORGET ABOUT THE TECH SKDNDJHR- IDC HOW HOT YOU ARE IM MAD AT YOU FOR THAT!

Oh and *SIGHS* lemme talk about the sages. No no, not the ones WE know now, I mean the ones of past. I hate them. The only one I like is the one of the gorons because of that one line he says

Me too buddy, me too/j

Anyway.

I wanna fucking murder these sages. Do they all share the same brain cell??? Other than you Mineru I like you.

Wait hold on that's meme potential. SOMEONE DRAW THE SAGES HAVING THE SAME BRAINCELL/HJ

But I just

I hate them.

So much.

Now let me talk about the best characters in TOTK. Besides kogha.

Farosh, Dinraal, and Naydra.

Dear golly I love these dragons. I vibe with them.

Now it's time for my personal favorite topic

THE YIGA CLAN

I love them. And. Yeah

Though I'm very sad about the missed potential for them. Also is it just me or is almost every yiga a dude..

Idk what to say. Just. I love them. And. Kogha better come back or I will cry/J he always comes back-(I'm sorry)

And the last topic of the evening

Link.

I have

Thoughts

Uhm

Ok less about link I love him but like the fact he's so chill about the fact he doesn't have a arm and now has the arm of a furry might say smt.

But at least in BOTW impa is like 'hey you sure your ready to take on what's next and save hyrule' but now it's like 'fucker go do this this and this and go look at the funny ass paintings on the ground' like. Damn ok. ;-;

I can't tell you how much I stalled playing totk. I had such a hard time finishing regional phenomenon. It just- wasn't fun. I knew what to expect, and what was going to happen. So. Yeah.

But I did really like Rito Village. And gorons town. They basically got addicted to drugs and I am ALL FOR IT (not drugs. Don't do drugs) but the Zora's felt... Boring. I mean they felt boring in botw but it got worse. Personally I thought the gerudo were the most boring in botw which is saying something because I got to sneak through the yiga hide out and Rob Kogha. But the zora felt- basic like. Yeah. At least everything else caused you damage or made things harder- the shroud made navigation hard, snow caused damage, the meat roast made conversion harder

But the zora? The sludge just- made you slower??? Idk man.

And omg. Do Sidon and yona make me mad. YEAH, HATE ME FOR IT SIDON FANS!! like people hate yona bc she's engaged to sidon. Personally I dislike them both. Like- Sidon lost the spark that made him- him! And yona- yona is just annoying. Like fuck off mipha copy.

And oh my hylia the MUCKDROCK- I hate it. No. No I loath it. Like what the fuck are you your fucking shrimp.

And it's fight wasn't even that hard. It was just annoying. Like- colagara in my opinion was the easiest, but it was super fun. But the muchdrock? He sucked.

Also btw- before the wrap up, has anyone found the smoldering coliseum and got zants helm??? Just me? Ok :') apparently it's the ice verison of the thunder helm. Now I think there is a fire one.. hmMmmm

Anyway! That wraps up the ramble!

[chainoftalent]

i am starving for kiyo content ‼️‼️ can i ask for the whole yan profile for my boy korekiyo???,,,

This is fine, this ask isn't old, I'm good at this I swear

Korekiyo Yandere Profile

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Korekiyo is very aware, but they also know the long history of tropes like this, and as such can justify it through that history, he finds the whole thing beautiful, the struggle, the history, the feeling of his hands on you. Beautiful.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Pretty likely, but they do like the chase a lot, they want their beloved to come to them, to make a deal with the devil, they have no hurry when the chase is just so fun.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Very difficult, Korekiyo does love shibari after all. It's a rare moment you aren't tied up in some way, with his hand around the end of the rope like a much more embarrassing leash. If you do try, Korekiyo would still find it beautiful, and such beauty should be rewarded, really, what did you expect? this is just how it is darling.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Very hard, he's very certain of what he's doing and wicked smart. He knows all the tropes, the tricks, you'd have to be very good at reading him to even have a chance.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He's decently lenient, you can't leave obviously, and you won't be untied, but you'll have books and stories and plenty of things to take up your time and chase away boredom. Though don't expect to be able to do much yourself, Korekiyo is the one who dresses you, who does up your makeup or hair, who makes you look like a doll, kneeling all prettily and delicate. You look divine, but he is no true worshipper.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Mostly the basic rules, no escape, don't disobey, don't make a mess, don't scream unless he wants you too. As long as you're not throwing fits though, he's mostly content to let you do what you want. Though if you do try and make a mess or let alone BREAK something expect a firm grip on your arm and chin as he reminds you just how much you depend on his kindness.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Rivals won't be killed, that's not the kind of person he'd send to sister! Terrified, tortured, or framed on the other hand? He has no true limit beyond not killing them for other unrelated reasons.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Their anger is slow, unless you hit specific buttons, like breaking things or getting in the way of his anthropology. At which point he will get physical, expect to be put in stress poses until you beg him to be allowed to relax and apologize. At least he'll rub creams on your rope burns and the like afterwards.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Beneath him, you're another of his treasures, he doesn't see beneath him as like an inherently negative thing though, that just means he's the one with the final say, it means nothing to your actual character.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

They do not need you to love him, perhaps they don't even fully want it. Love is fickle strange thing for Korekiyo, I don't think even they know if they actually want you to love you, or if one of the reasons he's so drawn is because like this you can never really love him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

He's calmer, much calmer. Silent snake in the grass.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Its KOREKIYO do I even need to say anything? Touchiest fucker who needs to have you bound up in red rope 24/7

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

They're pretty forceful, but they also care about your pleasure, but even your despair and terror is beautiful.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

They are a sadomasochistic shibari enthusiast with a love of all of humanity. He's going to at least try nearly every single kink on you just to see what happens.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

I feel like Korekiyo would want at least one kid, he's such a family person so they definitely would be on board for a few kids, but probably later on, it's too soon now.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Lots of rope, stress positions, flogging, a whip, and they'll make you moan in between each pained scream until the pain and pleasure blend into a mind melting beautiful slurry.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

I feel like Korekiyo is a hand person, something about him just screams hand fetish. He's gonna do your nails so fancily!

[sorryimananti-romantic]

i read your reblog last night right before bed and i really shouldn't have because i couldn't fall asleep because of how damn giddy it had me like skjkdjjd kicking my feet with the biggest dorkiest smile on my face like this is MY WIFE FRFR we're 🤞😤🔐

i can't believe light was inspired by the absolute bread crumbs that i threw into your ask box like i had to go back and read what you could have even taken from that lmao 💀💀 what's crazy is that i remember being 🤏 so close to adding light to my favorite ateez songs (mostly bc of that yunho fancam iykyk) but yes, seonghwa is just soso made for angel fiction, it's woven in his dna.

speaking of light!seonghwa, your explanations do make much more sense now concerning his romance arc and the dynamic with reader. i'm also very prone to bad-boy-blindness so 😔😔 i can fix him frfr (reader is a scientist after all). and omg the sequel ideas, i think it'd be time to bring that betrayal arc to life. reader.. cleans up the angel with dr. choi's help and then he rids of them and all otherworldly messes they left behind once and for all. & goes public about his (and reader's) research under a heroic preface. 😈 and since the angel ended seonghwa's business by then. they can fight it out in heaven or hell, wherever they end up. everyone's happy ever after?

it's like the answer was there all along. if everything/everyone has evil and good inside of them of course there isn't one or the other to find balance with each other. only out-doing each other's evilness/goodness. 😮‍💨

you can use me anytime to yap your brains out. i love love love hearing about the behind the scenes, the process and (original) train of thought and how different our interpretations can turn out to be. i'd read it over and over again, like enrichment that gives the story more life. 🥰

still can't believe light was for me. like. huh? me? 👉👈 i caused this? and you did all the amazing work. 😭 this is one of the sweetest things anyone's ever done and you being so shy to mention it until the very end!! like skjsdfjkn i was already rolling around in bed and you had to put the cherry on top and break me 🫨🫨 is there another step after marriage because?? pls don't say divorce lmao

YOU'RE A GIFT! MOST PRECIOUS! ALL THE LOVE FOR YOU! MWAH MWAH 💖🫦 (tell me these essays we write aren't the modern way of handwritten loveletters)

○ chron 🃏

omgg stop that's exactly what happened with me when i read your reblog I SPENT AN HOUR ON IT A SOLID HOUR i did it for my wife frr 🤞😤🔐 and then i kept thinking about it and ugh readers like you make writing so worth it :'))

omg yes bruh bc i had no idea what to write next, and ever since your dazzling light reblog it got me thinking if i could write more angel fics and then you sent your preferred tropes and genres in the ask and i um cooked sth up with what i had hehe (seonghwa was the member of choice bc i hadn't written him in a while, and the title just fit so well even tho it was mostly unintentional lmao) and omg yes light is such a sweet song and yunho fancam hehe i think i know what you're talking about

bad-boy blindness is so real, me as the writer had it and then i had a few days off from writing in between and that's when clarity hit me-- that seonghwa is supposed to be the villain, the baddest. he gets no redemption, and that is his tragedy. and omg not you going strong with the betrayal arc AHAHAHA i mean... greed is a real thing. reader had it. dr. choi def has it too. he's capable of doing that heuheuheue. i don't think we could ever get a happy ever after in this fic tho 😭 we did it with hala hala we couldn't do the same thing here :')

aw that's literally so sweet of you. i mean it when i say, readers like you are genuinely what makes this site worth it and what makes me want to write and post. and honestly, talking about the process of writing a certain fic or the different interpretations of it etc makes me the happiest! it's my fav thing and i always look forward to talking about it in the reblogs, comments or anywhere (and i'm glad readers are able to pick them details or ask about it-- and you def do every time it's the best thing ever :')) thank you!)

YES. light was for you. i honestly should have tagged you (i'll tag you next time i promise) but i have to credit you for the trigger that brought this fic to life- the dazzling light reblog (which got me thinking about angels) and then the tropes/genres (which got me thinking what if seonghwa angel and angel bad) LMAO yes that was my thought process. and i'm very shy even tho i may not seem like it lmao

OMG did i break you AHAHAHAHA next step after marriage is definitely divorce (i'm about to say sth 18+ i have to stop myself but just read that rolling around in bed putting the cherry on top and breaking you line in a diff context-)

NO YOU ARE THE GIFT YOU ARE SO SOOO PRECIOUS AND THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU LOVE 💖💖 HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY WEEK!