#i have no idea where those pink scissors came from

[cicada-heart]

hand embroidered panther patch ❤️‍🔥

this will be available in my shop tomorrow!

[harringtonswriting]

Bestie!!! What about jumping into piles of leaves & the prompt “you’ve got leaves in your hair” with Stevie 🥺

bestie!!! i love this idea so much its so cute 🥺 thank you for sending this in!! i hope you love it 💕

...

It’s become something like a tradition for you and Steve to get together on the first true autumn day to rake up all the leaves on his parents’ property into giant piles and then jump into them together. Then you’ll go make hot chocolate together and watch a movie until the street lights start to come on outside, and he takes you home.

It started a few years ago, while you were both still in school, when he’d caught you doing it on the front lawn of your family’s house with the pile of leaves you’d gathered yourself—he’d surprised you when you came up out of the leaves, leaning out the driver’s side window of his car and it took you completely by surprise. You’d half-expected him to make fun of you, but as he got out of his car and came closer you would see his smile was more shy than smirk-y, and he’d asked you if he could try jumping in, too. Surprised, you’d said yes, and the peals of laughter he let out as he jumped into those crunchy, slightly wet leaves that stuck to his face and his jacket, had swept you up like an autumn storm.

Steve Harrington captured your heart on that sunny, chilly autumn day when your friendship started, and though you’ve made many memories together since then, these autumn days you spend together are your favourites. The ones where it’s just the two of you, the ones that stretch on forever but feel as if they pass in the blink of an eye because you’re together, and Steve is all yours.

Since his parents have a much bigger yard with a ton more trees, you both have since done all your leaf jumping together at the Harrington house, and today was no different. You show up to his place, wrapped up in your favourite jacket, though you’d forgotten your gloves at home so your hands are stuffed into your pockets when you make it to his place.

As is usually the case, Steve’s car is the only one in the driveway, and he’s waiting on his front porch with two rakes beside him. His face is pink, a pretty colour on his, and he’s wrapped up in his own jacket, scarf, gloves, and hat. He makes a cute picture, you think, and your heart aches as his face lights up on seeing you. He practically jumps up from where he’s sitting, stumbling over his feet just a bit as you get closer.

“Hey! Ready to have some fun?” he asks, and you nod. He grabs the rakes, handing you one, and the two of you make your way over to the nearest tree. He regales you with the latest misadventures he and Robin have had at Family Video, and the hijinks Dustin Henderson and the other kids Steve hangs around with have gotten into this week; the warmth in his tone, even through all the exasperation at having had to run from Callahan and Powell for like, the third time this week, and the fond smile on his face as he leans on his rake so he can articulate his point with his hands, shows just how much he cares about all the people in his life. It’s endearing, you think, and one of the many reasons you can think of to love him.

Soon enough, all the leaves are raked up into a few big piles, with one massive pile in the centre of the yard. You admire your handiwork (though, really, you’d spent a good deal of time staring at Steve so you think he might have done more than his fair share of work) while Steve runs to put the rakes against the side of the house. He comes back, doing a little victory dance that you think might be partially to warm himself up, and pulls down his scarf so he can grin at you properly.

“I think we’ve outdone ourselves this year,” he tells you, and you have to agree. There was an overabundance of leaves in his yard today, so there are definitely plenty to jump in. Steve holds his hand out towards you, silently challenging you to the customary game of rock, paper, scissors to see who gets to jump in the first pile. This time, Steve wins, so he picks the pile he wants to jump in and moves so that he’s far enough away to take a running leap.

He takes off, starting somewhat gracefully—you can see how he was an athlete in school—before he slips on the wet grass, careening into the pile with a squawk rather than what he calls his more dignified leaf-jumping yell, sending leaves flying as he collides with it.

It makes you laugh til your sides hurt, doubling over as he pops his head out from the leaves and his hat is missing and he’s got a leaf stuck to his cheek. He gets up out of the leaves, swiping off the ones stuck to his jacket and the one on his face. He makes sure to grab his hat before coming back over to you to share a chuckle before it’s your turn to jump after you catch your breath.

There’s something almost magical about the afternoon, as golden light filters through the dwindling leaves on the branches of the trees and gives everything around you a subtle glow. It’s as if the universe placed a spell on Steve’s yard to create a timeless, liminal space that exists for just the two of you. Your laughter intertwines and bounces around through the breezes that blow by, creating a soundtrack to your joy. It’s as if you’re children again, youthful and naive and enchanted by the simple act of jumping into piles of leaves together; the rush of adrenaline thrums through the both of you, and by the time you’ve made your way through all of the piles save for the gigantic one, your chest aches in the best way as your heart swells and presses against your ribcage as the light hits Steve just right; it bathes him in a soft yellow, like the sunset is haloed around him and you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

A cool breeze whispers by, tickling your bare cheeks and sending a chill down your spine. You shiver, and Steve must notice because he’s sliding one of his gloves off and taking your hand in his. The two of you are standing a good distance from the final pile of leaves, getting ready to jump together, and it takes you a bit by surprise that he holds your hand in his as tightly as he can.

“On the count of three?” he asks, and you nod. His hand squeezes yours, and your stomach flutters as he starts counting down. “Three… two… one… go!”

The two of you take off, running before leaping into the huge pile together. You don’t quite get the timing right—you never do, really, but the unbridled rush of joy you feel course through your body as you fly through the air and send the leaves scattering in the wind to cover the two of you and the yard is worth any awkward tangling of limbs or bumping of bodies you experience. You and Steve both let out whoops and cheers as you plunge into the leaves, and though he lets go of your hand and you momentarily mourn the loss of the contact, you can’t help the grin that turns up the corners of your lips as you pop up out of the leaves. Steve is already waiting for you, a little breathless as his chest heaves.

“You’ve got leaves your hair,” Steve says, and then he’s reaching forward to brush the offending objects out of your hair. He crunches them in his hand, and you realize his face is close enough to yours, now, to count the freckles mapping his cheeks, connecting across the bridge of his nose, and even sprinkled sporadically across the bits of forehead you can see through his floppy brown hair. Some are a dark, deep brown, like bits of warmth that have burrowed into his skin to stay forever, while others are tiny, golden flecks, like fleeting kisses dashed across his face by the sun to glow like stars on a sticky summer night. Those ones will soon be washed away in the winter chill, you’re disappointed to realize, but while he has them you want to memorize the constellations on his skin; to connect those dots and use them to tell the stories that you and Steve have created this year.

You should move, you realize, because you’re only getting closer to him. But Steve also isn’t moving, and when your eyes meet his brown ones, you can see the way he’s looking at you, with his brows slightly furrowed in concentration, and you can see the tiny flecks of molten gold mixed in with his brown as his face moves so close that his warm breath tickles your chilly cheeks. It’s silent save for the both of you breathing a little heavily, and in the stillness you lick your lips, and Steve tilts his head to the side as his look of concentration melts into a fond smile.

“You have no idea how much I love you, do you?” he asks. Your breath catches and the smile falls from your face as you take in his words.

Steve… loves you? Steve loves you. You love Steve and Steve loves you and is sitting within kissing distance and god, do you want to kiss him. You’ve only imagined what it would be like for what feels like forever, but you never thought you’d be able to kiss him. Which, as soon as your brain processes the information you’d just heard come from Steve’s mouth, you surge forward and close the gap to kiss him before he can tell you it was a joke, or before you wake up from whatever concussion dream this might be in case you accidentally collided with a tree when you were trying to jump.

It obviously takes him by surprise, but one of Steve’s hands comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you closer as your arms wrap around his neck. You kiss until the need for oxygen is physically burning in your chest, and Steve presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath for the hundredth time this afternoon.

“So, do you… love me back, or…?” he asks, chuckling nervously as one hand comes up to fiddle with his hat. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“That kiss didn’t tell you that?” His cheeks flush an even deeper red than they already are, and he shrugs.

“Well, I mean, as absolutely phenomenal as kissing you is, it’s also nice to use your words.” There’s just a hint of him chiding you in his response, and it brings a laugh bubbling up past your lips as you nod.

“Okay, okay. Steve Harrington, I love you too,” you tell him, and you mean it with your whole heart. God, do you ever. And when the two of you eventually untangle yourselves to rake the leaves up one more time before heading inside, he gives you his gloves and another heart fluttering kiss because you’re his, and he’s yours, now, and it keeps you warm from the top of your head down to your toes. And there’s really no better way to end the perfect autumn afternoon.

[xxpobloxx]

APAT Chapter 3: Flamin' Scarlet

"Yeah! Get me some tapes! and toss me some spraycans while you're at it!" Bella responded to her friend. Flamin' Scarlet would hand her a blue t-shirt, a cyan leather jacket, and some grey pants.

"Leather protects you from rayguns, kid." they said, "and by the way, your mask and raygun, those are yours, fuck with em how you must!"

Bella lit up as the idea came to mind, they got the blue spraycans, spraying both the raygun and mask, before decorating both with duct tape, she would then use the duct tape to decorate her shirt and jacket, making fingerless gloves out of them soon after.

She and Scarlet would begin leaving together, before Regina would appear from behind the shelf, to which they looked at her, "You got yourself a girl straight outta Battery City? She looks cute, you're one lucky gal, B."

The two girls were flustered, denying any romantic interest in eachother. But Regina said, "I wanna go with you two, I wanna be by her side, I've known her longer than you have, uhm..."

"Scarlet will do."

"Scarlet. I want to be with Bella."

"Sure, you two are friends, so why not?"

Regina and Bella were taken by Scarlet out of the shed, they had a car the two could go in. They drove the two to what looked like a record store. Regina would look around at the shelves, strange items she has never seen, to Bella, these too were interesting, but she still knew what they were, and to Flamin' Scarlet, they were just Vinyls, CDs, and Cassettes, but they went down a staircase, there was a concert hall, a small one, but one nonetheless. It was empty though, just some florescent lights, a stage, a restroom, and a door backstage.

Scarlet went backstage, where all sorts of music instruments lay, but also some hair dye, clothes, and half a pair of scissors. While Flamin' Scarlet and Bella were talking, Regina looked around. She took the scissor, grabbed on to her own hair, and sliced at it. patches of the reddish brown locks falling to the ground. until her hair was just barely above her shoulders, she then took the hair dye, it was called "Badass Pink", she began applying it to her now shortened hair, she then took to the closet, and began looking through the leather clothing, before making her choice.

She went to see the the others, Bella was carrying a blue satchel, she had her hair in lower messier pigtails. She said, "You can call me Tape Decked now. Oh, I love what you did with yourself!

[kashimos-hajime]

definition of a good boy | a.a.

summary: literally you just peg the FUCK out of armin arlert. that’s it. and he looks real fucking pretty taking it.

WARNINGS: smut (18+), switch!reader (but majority femdom), switch!armin (majority sub <3), PEGGING, edging, anal fingering ahgnfkld, safe word (not used), oral (fem-receiving), overstim, praise kink, minor dacryphilia bc that shit HITS pairing: armin arlert x fem!reader word count: 3.7k

a/n: if armin no like peg, why he look like THAT last episode? ANYWAY this is who i represent now. just,,, pegging men and making them cry

crossposted on ao3

You wonder how many times Armin’s thought about this before. Or even, the first time at least. 

Was it when you rode him until he was crying for relief, your hands around his throat and your lips ravaging his own? Or maybe that time you had riled him up until he had you pinned in an alleyway just outside a fucking embassy, panties swept aside by the crook of his fingers and cock sheathed inside your wet folds as you cried out into his shoulder.

Which in itself was a feat. It’s probably the most difficult thing in the world to irritate Armin Arlert to the point where he wants to fuck the attitude out of you, and it had started with a dress that had a slit up to your thigh, and you tugging at his tie in the middle of his conversations, and ended with bruised collarbones, jelly legs, and fucking Connie texting you, WOW GOOD JOB!!!!! SASHA OWES ME TWENTY.

But you digress. You could probably pinpoint a million times he’s thought about it, a million times more when you have. It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Armin Arlert is laid out right in front of you, flushed, sweating, eyes closed shut and mouth shamelessly open as you jack him off. His cheeks are red, the blush spreading down his neck and chest, but nothing compares to the shade of his lips as you swallow down his moan, tongue dipping into his mouth. Your other hand pins down his shoulder as he lets out a soft whine, and you smile, drawing back just as quickly as you came.

“You look so pretty, baby,” you whisper, brushing the hair fanning across his forehead back. The golden strands glimmer in the warm light of their room as Armin lets out another strangled noise when you squeeze the tip of his cock, the precum warm underneath your palm. “You think you’re ready?”

“Yeah.” His hands are on your back, fingers scratching the skin and sending shivers down your spine, yet now, one travels to the back of your neck and pulls you down for another deep kiss. Their mouths meet messily and his other hand trails down to your hips, your thighs by his waist, and squeezes. “I’m ready. I trust you.”

Pulling back, your gut clenches and you wish you’d taken up his offer to ride the edge off on his thigh, but you’d been so excited that you had refused. Now, nervous energy mixes with the heady arousal surrounding them you pull off of him, fingers giving one last pump to his hard cock. Sitting aside with the lube, you watch as Armin rolls over, revealing a muscled back ripe with tension and you immediately crawl over to him.

“Tense?”

“Nervous, yeah.” His fingers dig into the bedsheets as you place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. His blond hair tickles the apple of your cheek and you situate yourself right over him. Squeezing a sizeable amount of lube onto your pointer and third finger, you smear it down to your base knuckles and glance at Armin again. His cheek is pressed against the mattress, his sedated face betraying the hunger in those blue eyes. His hips twitch against the blankets almost imperceptibly but you let it slide—they both need a moment to just…

“Safe word?” you ask.

“Conch,” he replies dutifully. “Don’t worry so much or I’ll start to worry.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you or for you to hate this.”

“The most important thing is that we tried it, alright?” He reaches back to grab your hand, and you look down at his fingers wrapping around your wrist. Twisting to hold onto him, you kiss his fingers before he lets go, resumes the slow grind against the mattress and you watch, transfixed at the rolls of his hips. Reminded of the slick glistening down your thighs, you clench your legs together as a soft moan is muffled by Armin’s face buried in the sheets. His knuckles are white as his thrusts grow frantic, but they both know that nothing on this bed is enough friction for what they both want.

Too many nights with disappointing outcomes have taught them better—silk is good for hair and skin only, it seems.

“On your knees,” you murmur, and he freezes, face turning slowly to reveal blissed out face and a panting mouth. Stomach fluttering at how obedient he is, you situate yourself right behind him as he rises to his knees and elbows and you spot the wet stain where his precum had soaked into the sheets. Smiling, you rise up on your knees, lean over, and kiss his spine, settling a hand on the small of his back. “Relax, baby.”

Your fingers slip between his cheeks and rub along the hole, the heat emanating from his skin incinerating. Gently, you sink your fingers in and he lets out a choked noise at the stretching as you scissor slowly to give him time to get used to the burning. His fingers sink into the mattress, claw-like, and his back tenses up but you lean forward, running a soothing hand between his shoulder blades.

“Are you okay, baby?” you whisper, the resistance making you pause so he can get used to it. He lifts his head, gasping before nodding to the wall.

“I’m okay.” Forehead to the sheets again. “Keep going.”

Kissing his hip, you nod and push forward as your hand on his back spreads out, and you feel the moment he relaxes because something inside him eases, too. Your fingers sink in despite how tight it is, near-choking as his legs twitch against your thighs. You watch the back of his head keenly, catch the speedy rise and fall of his shoulders as you slowly draw your fingers in and out, getting him used to the sensation.

Tiny sounds escape his mouth as he rests his cheek against the bed, his sharp gasps whenever you push in deeper than before music to your ears and to the growing drip of arousal between your legs.

It’s when Armin’s legs shoot out from underneath him, his whole body collapsing and a loud moan comes out of him that you really snap awake. Your hand ripped out from between his asscheeks, you jump back, eyes widening in fear and you crawl up so you can spot his face. His eyes are wide enough that you can see a ring of white around his blue, blue eyes, and he’s coated in a fine layer of sweat over his pink cheeks. A hand is slapped over his mouth and you hear his raspy pants through his nose, desperate and rapid as you lower yourself to his eye level.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” you ask but he lifts a wet hand from his mouth, and you watch slowly as he grabs your wrist tightly. Lube from your fingers drips onto your hand as he yanks you close.

“Why’d you stop?” he groans. “If that’s how it feels every time I hit your g-spot, I wish we started this sooner.”

Electricity zaps through your chest and your lips pull into an incredulous smile as he lets go of your wrist and cups your neck, pulling you down into an open-mouthed kiss and you moan into his mouth as he pushes himself up onto an arm, tongue exploring your cheeks, his hand sliding down your back. It’s decidedly slow, unpretentious, intimate, and you remind yourself that there’s still a task at hand, no matter how persuading Armin can be with his eyes, hands, tongue, or otherwise.

Parting, your heart pounds like a damned drum as he squeezes your ass but you pluck his hand off of you, pushing him back down onto all fours.

“Elbows and knees, Arlert. I’m not finished with you yet,” you murmur and you see the shiver in his body at the idea. He does as he’s told, lowering himself until his face is against the mattress and his ass is up in the air, and you migrate to his end again, through the molasses air until you’re where you were before. 

A hand on the small of his back, you ease your fingers in again, and this time, when he lets out a sharp whine, you know not to give up but to give in, push against the spongey flesh at your fingers that sends his hips jolting back into your palm. Peering at a pretty blond head, you frown when you see his palm has found its place over his mouth again and without thinking, your hand on his back trails to his ass, giving it a light slap before squeezing the flesh.

“Let me hear you, pretty boy,” you croon as his back arches with a choked ah! that fills your stomach with butterflies. Pushing down on his spine, with every whine, moan, desperate more, every pleading deeper, baby, you reward him with another thrust of your fingers that makes Armin writhe with pleasure you can feel everywhere in his body. Heat licking at your own face, you get so lost in the rocking of his hips, the sheets twisting under Armin’s fists as he tries to chase his own high, that you nearly miss the signs of his coming orgasm.

Classic: he starts swearing like a sailor.

“Fuck—hngh!—C’mon, baby. Come on. I’m so close.”

And the panting that’s so noticeably heavy and fast that it’s a wonder he can even breathe with how much he’s begging and squirming by the pressure of your fingers alone. 

Those two things echo in your head as you pull your fingers out just as he stands on the brink of his eyes rolling back from the black-out euphoria he must’ve been on the edge on because when you stop, he lets out the loudest fucking curse you’ve ever heard in your life.

No, fuck! Baby!” His whines are music to your ear as he buries his face in the silk. “Baby, I was so fucking close! You, you—“

“I? I?” you tease, a thrill igniting underneath your heart at how he sweats and arches underneath your hand. “You’re just so pretty for me all needy, Armin. Not every night I get to edge you.”

“It could be,” he pleads, his hips lowering to the mattress again as he reaches forward for a pillow to shove between his legs but you smack the hand away as you stretch for the nightstand. “Baby, just let me cum. Let me cum and I’ll let you edge me every night. Please, please, please—“

“Armin,” you censure, although the words are enticing and you know if you brought it up to him outside the bedroom tomorrow morning, he’d blush and have to accept his own vow. But you’re not that cruel. “When have you ever given in to my pleading?”

Maybe you’re worse. You don’t mind that at all.

“Sometimes, I do. When you’ve been a good girl.” His hips begin to rub against the silk sheets as you grab the strap-on and buckle it up comfortably around your hips. Armin’s oblivious to it all and you let him have his moment of faux relief, pretending you don’t notice. He’s going to need the breather after you’re done with him. “And I’ve been good. I swear it.”

“Really?” Grabbing the lube bottle that’s been lost in the sheets, you squirt a hefty amount all over the silicone and run your hand up and down the shaft, warming it up. “I don’t think trying to fuck yourself on silk sheets like you’re a prince without a whore is going to help you much now is it, hm?”

His hips freeze and you chuckle to yourself, the power trip making you dizzy as you hum appreciatively and lean over him, the tip of the strap leaving a wet trail from between his cheeks down his spine. Your lips find the knob of his spine, mouthing at it warmly as his entire body goes taut and you reach blond hair, nosing it away and sucking a mark onto his neck. He lets out a soft moan, lifting his head and reaching up a hand to wrap around the back of your neck. 

Bracing yourself, you smile and find the sensitive spot right underneath his jaw, biting gently.

“Armin,” you whisper huskily against the shell of his ear, nose drawing along his temple. “What’s that again about being a good boy?” You return your mouth to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, grinning wickedly when his back arches and he lets out a helpless whine. Inhaling the smell of clean soap, you crane your head to look down between your bodies. He’s laid out bare in front of you, and you wiggle your hips, nestling the strap back between his ass cheeks, just to get him used to the sensation.

Tearing yourself away and back up, you cup his thighs and pull him back up to his knees.

“Anyway,” you continue, as if remarking on the weather, “I don’t know if you do deserve this anymore. Seeing as if every time I stopped touching you, you’ve gone to rutting the bed like I wouldn’t notice.” The tip presses against his hole and you feel his shiver. You tilt your head. “Nothing to say now, huh.”

“No, no, please. Fuck! I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I won’t do it again. I promise. I really promise, baby.”

“Right.” You don’t believe him, but nonetheless, you smile. “Why don’t you prove it and relax?” A soft noise keening from his mouth, he nods and lowers himself deeper. Counting silently to yourself, you wait until he gets comfortable.

When he does, you set a hand on his hip, another on his back, and slowly push in. 

“Ah!” His head snaps up, knuckles blanching as he grasps the sheets. Breathing quickening, he stiffens but you hush him quietly, stroking soothing shapes into his skin. You slowly ease out again and he exhales. A heat sears through your chest and the urge to slip your fingers in, to push against the spongey part again until he’s begging, not for you to stop or for you to continue, but just crying begging for you, causes you to groan to yourself.

“You don’t know how pretty you look all like this, Armin,” you murmur as he shifts back and you laugh gently. “You really want this, hm?” You push back in gently, and it goes easier this time. Your hips nearly press flush against his skin as he lets out a choked noise. “Lemme hear you, yeah? God, I wanna hear you so bad, baby.”

“Hngh! Ah—“ You draw back only to sink back in again, bottoming out and you know you hit it when his elbows slide out from under him, cheek against the bed. You pause, tip pressing against the prostate until he’s blabbering, voice going raw with desperation. “Baby! Baby, baby, baby, oh God—“

Guts tightening, you bite your lip, trying to hold back your own moan as he tries to jerk back. 

“You want me to move, baby?”

“Yes! Yes, please. Please, please, please.” His hand claws at his face, caging his mouth but doing nothing to muffle any of his noise as you push harder. His eyes roll back and you smirk, pulling back. “Baby!”

“Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely.” And you sink into him, faster this time, hitting your mark so easily that when his moans arise, it’s only incentive for you to continue thrusting, your movements sloppy but quick. Hips against his ass, your fingers dig into his hips as he begins to rock back against you, settling into an unsteady rhythm only they can begin to understand.

You watch in delicious satisfaction as Armin falls apart, raising his ass higher, sinking deeper into his chest. A soft whine rises with every movement as he gasps out, “Harder,” and you nearly fucking lose yourself in the high-pitched rasp in his voice. His voice begins to thicken when you listen, and you catch sight of his cheek, glistening with tears.

“You close, baby?” you pant at the sight. Fuck, he’s so fucking pretty; it’s otherwordly. Your hips beginning to tire, the smack and slide of their skin the only other thing you can feel besides how hard and tight he is as he nods, red lip trapped between teeth. “Yeah? You’re doing so well, you know? God, I’m so proud of you.” He lets out a whiny mhm! A harsh throbbing between your legs, you squeeze his hips. “C’mon, baby. C’mon. You’re so pretty. Pretty boy crying for me.”

“God, I love you,” he cries out, body beginning to shake as his breath hitches in his throat sharply like a ragged gasp after nearly drowning. “I love you so much. Please, let me cum. I wanna be good. Lemme be good for you.”

Lurching forward, you plunge as deep as you can into him and he lets out a hoarse wail as you sink your teeth into his side, at his ribs. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him flush against yourself and he shudders, head raised as he claws at the sheets, riding off his own orgasm on your strap, shamelessly, with reckless abandon and you press your face into his shoulder blade, rocking with his moves.

Soft, airy moans fill the silence as he stubbornly tries to keep going as he falls back on his knees, in some yoga pose you can’t remember the name of, and you draw yourself back up, shallowly rolling your hips against his until he’s crying into his arm, ears red, cheeks red, everything red and warm and slick.

Sighing, you finally pull out and he lets out a whimper at the loss. Sitting back on your ankles, you begin to unbuckle the strap, climbing over his shaking leg to grab the towel on their nightstand. Wiping off the lube and juices from the silicone, you glance over your shoulder at your dazed boyfriend, and a soft smile pulls at your mouth as he tries to catch his breath. Back rising and falling, he wipes at his face and you chuckle, abandoning your cleaning efforts to crawl over to his face. Leaning down to kiss his cheek, you hum.

“Pretty baby,” you murmur as his blue eyes rake over your face, down your body covered in a fine layer of sweat. You lay down beside him, mirroring his position so you’re on your stomach, chest resting on your forearm. Your other hand lifts, fingers brushing through hair that falls over his eyes lazily. His irises are still blown out with lust, the residual pleasure still occupying his face in how lax his face is, how he barely keeps his eyes open. “You okay?”

“More than okay.” His voice is nothing more than a mumble as he turns to plug his eyes with his forearm and you laugh, scooting closer to kiss his ear. “I dunno if I can walk tomorrow, though.”

“I did go a bit hard on you, didn’t I?”

“’S okay. I asked for it.” He lifts his head with a cold breath, and he looks at you again. “I wanted it. So badly. You did so good, baby.”

“A-Armin—“ His name is swallowed up by his lips and you let out a noise of surprise as he cups the back of your neck. Pushing you onto your back, he deepens the kiss and their legs tangle up as his other hand runs down your side. A soft moan spills out of your mouth into his as he trails inward, exploring the slick pooling down your legs. Without a second to waste, he sinks a finger in easily to the first knuckle, curling sinfully and your legs spasm against his.

“Maybe you liked it more than me,” he hums, lifting his mouth from yours. Before you can refute that claim, he’s travelling down your body, free hand adoring every single curve and line. You let out a small protest as he slips his finger out but it’s almost instantly replaced by his mouth suctioning onto your cunt. Heat splinters through your body and your legs wrap around his head immediately.

“Fuck, Armin,” you sigh, hands buried under the pillow above your head as he laps at your slit and when you raise your head to see him peering back, you groan at the sheen covering his chin and lips. His eyes are still blown out, darkened with lust, and he dips his mouth again as the coil inside you tightens and just seeing him beneath you again has your eyes rolling back. His hand squeezes your thigh as your breath hitches and you feel it coming, harsh, white, and hot.

Chest blistering tight, your eyes flutter shut and your fingers scrape at silk as your hips rut against his face. You’re so fucking close—fuck, fuck, fuck—

“Armin!” You let out a hoarse scream as he slams a hand over your mouth and your back arches as his other hand presses your hips down. Eyes rolling back, your hands wrap around his wrist as he sucks on your clit, massages you through the crashing waves that run through your body. Legs trembling, you try to move away but he only huffs a laugh, kissing your slit before licking a stripe up. The overstimulation makes you whine, shaking as he continues to tease you out, drinking you, eating you as if you’re his last meal on death row.

His name spills out of your mouth in shameless babbles, praises about how good he is for you coming out raw as you try to catch your breath but he won’t let you. Not even for a second. 

Armin only breathes you in—hums against your soaked thighs, biting gently on the flesh, and your hands fly to your face, one over your mouth, another over your eyes as a helpless, incoherent plea spills out of you. You feel the smirk in his cheeks as he pushes himself closer and your hips nearly lift but he pulls you back down to the bed, chuckling.

“Am I good boy now?” he asks huskily against your cunt. Shivers shoot up your spine and he inhales deeply, squeezing your thighs like he’s never seen something so fuckable. “Or do I need to prove it to you again?”

[flower-slut004]

nsfw allison argent

NSFW ABC- Allison

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Super cuddly. She's at your service after.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She adores your tits. She loves the shape and curve of them.

Allison likes her ass. She knows she can get you to do anything just by flashing you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She can drown in your cum and thank god for the wonderful death.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She one time wore your panties by accident and got so turned on she played with herself in them.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She isn't very experienced in lesbian sex. Sure she's had hookups here and there but you helped her out.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She loves scissoring, you both get the same pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No games in the bedroom darling, it's business.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She has some hair there, not very much though.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She is a hopeless romantic. The whole shabang. Roses and music. Your hers tonight and forever.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Allison doesn't like touching herself. It makes her cranky after. She wants you and only you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She loves it when you rub ice cubes on her tits. Food play defiantly makes her panties soaked. Just the idea of you licking whipped cream off of her just makes her want you more.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Her bedroom or yours. Our Allie can be vanilla when it comes to location.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your laugh. It's what drew her to you. It gives her butterflies and makes her think about all the naughty giggles in bed.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

No to public sex or choking. Sex is about love for her, not pain.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She loves it when you eat her out. She loves the little kisses you give her with the small teasing licks.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She's painfully slow. She grips your tits as she slowly grinds into your pussy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She hates them, she thinks there isn't enough time to give each other attention.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

she's more cautious when it comes to risks. Threesome? Sure but it'll have to be with Malia or Lydia. Handcuffs? maybe...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

With her athletic body, she can go on and on.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

she has a whole collection. Pink, green, orange, any color you name it. She loves it when you use them on her. Drives her insane.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She's to the point where you get nervous every time she comes near you. You never know what she's planning.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

You'd get noise complaints from how loud she whines and moans. It's like honey to your ears.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She pressed you against the floor one time while you were training. Face first on the floor, Allie ripped your leggings and ate you out from behind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She has some muscle from working out and training.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

At first, it wasn't super high but she came out of her shell and now practically drags you to somewhere hidden.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

She doesn't fall asleep quickly, maybe a shower and Lil snack first then she'll fall asleep.

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[joshstambourine]

A Seconds Glance

"Hi I have a request for either Josh or Jake 💛 can I get a story where they see a girl, either at school or they can already be famous in this, and is instantly enamored. I don't know if you've seen The Virgin Suicides, but if you have then something similar to when Trip sees Lux for the first time. I'm interested in how those two would go about getting a girl's attention when they have a crush.💕💕💕" - Anonymous

//Hi Doll! I can’t say I have seen that--- but I will try my best to write something that I feel matches the idea you had. 

I’m gonna be repeating this forever--- but again, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this request out for you! I decided to go with Josh being in school for this one.//

Warnings: Cursing, awkward beans

Word Count: 1969

Synopsis: Josh had never really believed in love at first sight... but yet....

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader

The first day of sophomore year. For most this was just the start of another school year; a sudden reminder that a new binder or fun pencil case is exciting for all of 10 minutes when it comes to actual classes and work. But for Josh… this year felt like it was filled with possibilities. It sounds like some sort of stupid thing you'd see on a motivational calendar, but it really truly did.

Josh hadn't imagined for a second that he actually would have a chance in making music his career; and yet, he had spent all summer with his band mates playing for different occasions and pubs. All the while they were working, working hard on writing songs that they could be proud to play for others.

All of that said, Josh was returning to high-school this year with a new found amount of confidence and excitement; it showed in every step Josh took. His one hand held loosely on to the arm of his backpack, walking in time with Jake.

"But what do you think? Would it look good on me?" Jake inquired, fingers lightly playing with the mid-length pieces of hair on his head.

"I mean… I don't know…" Josh lightly starts, glancing at his twin and begins to take a good long look at him.

Jake's eyes widened just a touch, his expression becoming one that said, 'Well…?'

"Uh… honestly I don't really know Jake. I've never seen you with anything else than this." Josh admits, then snickers a little, "Except for that one time when we decided it'd be fun to take those scissors and---"

"No, that's fine, I didn't need to think about that." Jake immediately stopped him, his hand going to take a full dive into his mess of dark brown hair. 

"Cmon, it was really funny though. Ma really lost her shit when she saw your head like that." Josh continued to muse, hands folding into his pockets with the utmost of ease. 

Jake shook his head in a mournful way, "I can say I will never go back to a buzz-cut again… not without a fight."

Josh's smile never faltered, it was his laughter that changed, softening into a bit of a sigh as they reached the double doors at the front of the school. With a swing of the doors they both were making their way down the hallway to their lockers.

"Meet by Mr.Shapiro's class before lunch?" Jake questioned, to which Josh nodded. No matter which school the twins went to the teachers seemed to know that the best course of action was to keep them separated. That said Josh and Jake always had separate homerooms at least, through most of their time in school.

"See ya in a bit." Josh waved, taking a few steps back before turning on his heels and heading to his own locker.

Josh's excitement to be back in class showed on his face more than he probably would have wanted. A few pencils in his hand along with a binder filled with blank paper and tucked away dividers.  

As soon as Josh stepped into the class room his eyes were met with many familiar faces. Some of these people he had been in school with since kindergarten; like Meg, a rather tall blunt faced girl with long kinky black hair. She simply threw a peace sign Josh's way as he stepped through the doors; he eagerly returned it, bringing a small smile to Meg's lips. 

With some brisk steps Josh moved to place himself at the back of the classroom, just behind Meg. He threw his things on his desk without much thought. Despite there being a good number of kids he knew... there seemed to be equally just as many new kids. 

Leaning on his desk Josh moved closer to Meg, "Where the hell did these guys come from?" 

Meg's brow lifted as she leaned back a little, "Know the high-school on the east side?" 

"The one where you can get crack for super cheap?" Josh inquired, 

Meg's head bobbed, "They closed it down, so now we get half the kids that went there." She explains with her head resting on her hand in a bored way. 

"Oh shit really? That's a lot of kids---" Josh was quick to respond, glancing around the room. 

"Oh yeah... way too many in my personal opinion --- not that anyone cares." Meg mutters, beginning to click her mechanical pencil. 

Josh's eyes were still taking in all the new faces as he started to respond, "Wow aren't we positive today." 

Meg sighed, "Eh.... I'm just not excited, Justin and I broke up over the summer and I'll have to see him in history." She began to explain, "Things are just really tense, yknow?" 

She waited a moment for him to give some comforting... but still idiotic response, however none came. It finally got Meg to turn and look at him, as she did she immediately noticed that Josh's eyes had widened just a touch, cheeks dusted a light pink. 

Meg followed the line of his eyes to a beautiful young woman. The expression he wore was more than enough to tell Meg that she should move. 

Josh was so busy just... taking the new girl in that he didn't even notice Meg slip to the free desk to the side of the one she was previously sat in. Josh just couldn't put his finger on it, there was something... something so breathtaking about her. Was it her eyes? Or maybe how her hair fell around her face? He couldn't be sure. What he was absolutely sure of was that he had never had a moment in his life where he could hear music just by looking at someone. 

"Hey... do you know if this desk is free?" A new voice shook Josh. It was her. She was standing at a desk to his left with a bit of an awkward air. 

He was just so shaken. What did she say again? Something about a desk? Josh's lips parted, "Uh--- I uh, what did you--?" 

"No that one isn't open, but the one just in front of my dude Josh is, right Josh?" Meg interrupted, pointing to the desk ahead of him. 

"Oh y-yeah, that one's open! Definitely 100% open! It couldn't be more open even if it tried!" Josh started spouting, he really wasn't even aware that his mouth had moved, and that was clear in the fact that it just kept moving when she had come to sit down. "Do you need any pencils at all?? I have like 20!" He continued, though his hand held one full sized pencil and one shorter than the average person's pinkie... both chewed on. "I mean not on me but--- who needs a pencil right?" 

The girl laughed a little awkwardly, her gaze moving from Josh to Meg and then to the desk. "No, no I'm okay thank you though." She slipped into the chair, keeping her gaze frontwards. 

Meg looks to Josh with a shocked look, 'What was that??' She mouthed, 

Josh responded with an absolutely mortified expression. He would never say he was the smoothest guy on the planet, but he had never been that awkward in his life. 

Meg shook her head before reaching out to tap the girl's shoulder, "I'm Meg!" She introduces, "And that goober is Josh." 

The girl lightly moved to glance over her shoulder at Josh in a shy way. "It's nice to meet you both. I'm (Y/N)." She hummed with a sweet smile. 

"That's a pretty name, isn't it Josh??" Meg quickly said, trying to get him to continue the conversation in a less awkward way.

Josh nodded very enthusiastically, "The prettiest name I've heard in a long time!" He said with a smile, 

(Y/N)'s cheeks began to hold a flush of their own. "Oh! Uh... th-thank you!" She sputtered out. 

'OH FUCK. She's so cute.' Josh thought to himself, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a shaky swallow. 

Little did Josh know that (Y/N) was thinking something very similar. She might not make it as obvious as he was, but being so much closer now... being able to see the warmth in his brown eyes, seeing how his wavy brown hair came to cup his cheeks --- she couldn't help but continue to stare back at him. 

The only thing that could pull them both out of the little trance they had fallen into was the bell. Both of them quickly looked toward it, followed by a man's voice at the front of the class. 

"Alright everyone, take your seats!" 

(Y/N) was reluctant but she turned herself to look toward the front of the class. A little bit nervous, but mustering an ounce of courage she tore a piece of paper from her notebook quietly and began to scribble something down. 

Josh hardly got anything out of that language arts class, he was way too busy trying to figure out what excuse he could make to talk with (Y/N) again. He was just rattling through every little conversation starter he had ever heard in his life... but none of them felt like they would work. 

Before long the bell had rung overhead once more and everyone was shuffling to grab their things and head to all of their next classes. 

Biting his lip, Josh was determined to catch (Y/N) before she could head off to her own next class. Luckily for him she had a similar idea. Both turning to each other as they stepped out of the classroom, it was painfully quiet at first. It seemed as if they were trying to get their thoughts together really. 

Finally they spoke, 

"Hey would you---" "I was wondering if you'd---" 

At once. 

A small awkward laugh left their lips, "Please, go ahead I was going to say something dumb---" Josh quickly said moving to rub the back of his neck. 

(Y/N)'s lips parted as she let out and unsure chuckle, eyes moving downwards for a moment. "I was just going to ask if you would mind if I joined you for lunch? I just am new and don't really have any---" 

"Yes!" Josh quickly said, "Yes absolutely. You didn't even have to ask, you could have just showed up if you wanted to!" He quickly says to her. 

The speed he seemed to talk at entertained (Y/N) a heck of a lot. A smile creeping across her face, "Okay! Thank you!" She responded. 

"Do you know where the cafeteria is? I can show ya if you want??" Josh quickly continued, "I mean I'm sure you could find it on you're own, you seem very smart and capable. Most women are to be honest; I remember reading an article about how men need to---" 

"That would be really great actually." (Y/N) smiled in a gentle way. 'He's even more nervous than I am.' She thought to herself. 

"Oh-oh! Okay cool! Uh, do you know where Mr.Shapiro's class is?" He asks, 

(Y/N) seemed to think for a minute, "113... right? I have him for chemistry this afternoon I think." She mutters. 

Josh swiftly nods his head, "That's the one!! Meet me there okay?" He says. 

(Y/N) nodded back, understanding the little plan they now had. "I'll see you in a little bit then?" She lightly asks. 

"Yeah absolutely." Josh began to grin, suddenly beyond excited. Even as she began to walk off to her class all he could think about was how sure he was now that this year was going to be fantastic. 

That was until a warning bell played overhead, "Oh shit--" Josh jumped in shock, immediately beginning to run to his next class.

//That's all for now lovely! I do actually have an idea on how to continue this one if anyone would like! Pretty please let me know in the comments if that's something you guys would like 💜//

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Nightcrawler and the Princess

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Being the princess of a small kingdom has its perks. However, you’re not sure this is a secret you can share with the rest of your friends…

Note: Did I make this a subtle crossover with the Princess Diaries? Yes. Yes I did. Don’t worry about it.

Reader is: Female

Warnings: Swears

Word Count: 1.8k

You carried the large box to the lunch table and set it there, in the middle of your friend group. Jean eyed it curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Care package from my mom.” You replied, using the pair of scissors you kept in your school bag to cut open the packing tape. “She said there’s stuff for the rest of you in here too. Probably candy or something.”

“That’s nice of her.” Scott smiled, watching as you opened the cardboard box.

“Ah, yep.” You reached into the bag and pulled out several packages of Genovian chocolates. “Here you go, guys.” You told them.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed at the bags, his tail hovering behind him curiously. He recognized that packaging. “These…I know these chocolates. Does your mother live in Genovia?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m from there, actually.”

Peter thought for a second, already munching on chocolate. “Wait, I thought you were American.”

“Nope.” You laughed, reaching further into the box and pulling out a handful of little Genovian flags she’d sent. “Ah, right. Independence day is coming up.”

“Where even is Genovia anyway?” Warren asked, admiring the little flag once you handed it to him.

“It’s a tiny little country between France and Italy.” You explained. “It’s really beautiful there, though.”

“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Kurt reminisced, sighing fondly.

“When did you visit?” You asked him.

“Several years ago.” He said. “The circus had a few shows there when I was young. The people were so kind, and the coast sparkled like diamonds.”

“You were with the Munich circus, right?” You asked him, trying to remember. He nodded proudly, a smile settling onto his face. “I was at one of your shows! I knew you looked familiar! Oh my god…” You laughed and shook your head. “I should have put those pieces together sooner.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah! My mom took me for my birthday.” You smiled, remembering the show fondly.

And Kurt knew then the information that you were withholding from the rest of the group. His eyes widened slightly and he studied your features. He remembered you. He remembered that day and he remembered the feeling of his heart hammering when after the show, the Queen of Genovia herself introduced him to her daughter, who was about his age. She’d taken her there because it was the princess’ birthday. Though your meeting was brief, he’d remembered it all this time, thinking of it every once in a while…the time he’d met a princess.

You didn’t look all that different now than you had then. Why you hadn’t told the rest of your friend group, he wasn’t sure, but he would keep the secret for you. Of course he would. He smiled softly, admiring you with his new revelation in mind. Even before he’d figured it out, you’d already been a princess to him anyway.

Peter studied the look on Kurt’s face and squinted. Something was going on. Something was going on and he would get to the bottom of it…

***

Over the weekend, your friend group had decided to go to the mall, but before you left, Kurt knocked on the door to your room.

“It’s open, come on in.” You told him.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room timidly. You were at your desk, reading what appeared to be a letter written on a piece of paper.

“What’s up?” You asked, not looking up from the letter when you asked it.

“You’re coming to the mall, right?”

“Yeah, what time is it?” You glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit. Sorry I’m late.” You chuckled, folding the note and tucking it into your dress drawer. “My mom wrote me a letter with her package.” You explained.

“How nice!” Kurt smiled and you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the way it lit up his face. “Do you write each other letters back and forth?”

“When I have time to, yeah.” You nodded, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Well, shall we?”

Kurt nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and in a poof of smoke, suddenly, you were standing in the living room, where the others were all standing.

Peter had a weird look on his face and you weren’t sure why, but you knew he was up to no good. He always seemed to be…

The squad piled into the car, as usual, and arrived at the mall in under thirty minutes. Jubilee picked the tunes, which was always a good choice, so the ride there was pleasant and relatively uneventful.

You all walked inside and started the routine of shopping around in all of your usual stores. The prom was coming up, so you all spent some time in the dress place on the upper level of the store.

“What color dress do you think you’re going to get, (Y/N)?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You thought for a moment. “Maybe something pink. Or…blue?”

“I think blue would look great on you.” Jubilee grinned, flipping through the rack of blue dresses.

“I agree.” Jean smiled, her eyes flicking over towards Kurt, who was on the other side of the store with the boys.

“Hey now.” You warned, your cheeks warming at the thought. “What did I say about reading my mind?”

“I didn’t need to read your mind. You’re more obvious than you think you are.” She chuckled.

“What she said,” Ororo agreed, causing your cheeks to flush even hotter. “Why don’t we ask the boys which one you should wear?”

“That’s a great idea.” Jubilee agreed, despite your shaking head. “Hey boys!”

“Yes? What’s going on?” Kurt bamfed over beside you, looking at Jubilee curiously.

“Which dress should (Y/N) wear to prom?” Ororo held up one pink dress and one blue dress.

“The blue one.” Scott said knowingly, crossing his arms and smirking. Okay. So he and Jean had talked, then. “Definitely the blue one.”

“I agree.” Warren nodded.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Scott nudged the teleporter.

“I think you’d look beautiful in anything. But I do like the blue one. It brings out your eyes.”

“T-thanks.” You blushed, giggling. None of you committed to dresses, so after looking around for a while the squad decided to hit the food court while looking over movie times.

“So…” Peter looked up at you and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. “When were you planning to spill the beans…your highness?”

You swore your blood ran cold. You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest and the color drained from your face. “Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair confidently. “When were you going to tell the rest of us your little royal secret?”

You froze, staring at him for a long time. “Maximoff,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes glowing faintly. “Choose your next few words very carefully.”

“Oh I have. (Y/N)’s the princess of Genovia.”

“Pfft. As if.” Scott scoffed, chuckling, but he stopped when he looked at the look on your face. “Oh shit, is he serious?”

“Who the fuck told you?!” You asked him, your voice raising the teeniest bit. “The only people who know are Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, so which one do I have to kill when we get home?”

“Neither. I snooped in Xavier’s office. Found your file.” Peter shrugged. “And of course, that begs the question: Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Listen…” You exhaled a long breath, looking to each of your friends faces for a moment before fixing your eyes on the table. “When people know, they treat me differently. I don’t think they mean to, but they do and it sucks. I like having friends and I love hanging out with you guys and I didn’t want to ruin that because of something as stupid as status.”

“You’ve got us.” Jean promised. “We’re not going anywhere. This doesn’t change anything. And…I already kind of knew. Not that you think about it often, but every once in a while…”

“I figured that might happen, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thanks for keeping it on the DL.”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“I knew too…” Kurt confessed, looking you in the eye.

You crinkled your eyebrows and then nodded, understanding. Of course he knew. You two had met before, after the show. You’d asked your mother if you could meet some of the performers, and she’d pulled some strings to make it happen. You distinctly remembered meeting Kurt. You remembered his smile and his adorable pointy ears.

“That’s right.” You smiled. “We met.”

“We did.” He agreed, nodding, a smile tugging at his lips and a faintly purple color creeping across his cheeks. “Although, I’ll admit, I didn’t realize it was you until…very recently. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“We sure aren’t.” You agreed, a chuckle escaping your lips.

And it was fine after that. It was normal. Much more normal than you’d expected it to be. Another week came and went. You finished your letter to your mom, Queen Clarisse, and when its response came back in the mail, you found it accompanied by a small picture she had saved all these years. As soon as you looked at it, a smile on your face, you knew you had to show Kurt.

So, you ran out to the courtyard, where you knew he was, and found him reading under the shade of a large tree in the front yard.

“Kurt!”

“What’s up?”

“My mom sent a few copies of this photo. Do you want one?” You asked, sitting next to him in the grass and handing him the photo. He looked it over, holding it very carefully in a large, three-fingered hand.

“This is us, ja?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, nodding. “A very long time ago.”

“We were so young…” He murmured, admiring the smile on his face as well as yours. He remembered you’d been nervous to meet him and at first, he thought it was because of the way he looked, but quickly learned it was because you’d been enamored by his performance. Absolutely blown away. You’d been so kind to him then, just as you were so kind to him now.

“We really were.”

“Do you mind if I keep this?”

“It’s all yours.” You told him. “So, what’cha reading?”

“Beauty and the Beast.” He told you. Ever since remembering that one of his best friends was a princess, he’d been on a bit of a fairytale kick.

“Mmm, that’s a good one.” You smiled and tilted your head, your eyes sparkling. “Read to me?”

“Of course.” He laid back against the tree again, holding the book open with his tail.

You got closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his lean chest. His arm wrapped around you and tugged you closer, and without even thinking about it twice, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline before starting to read again.

Kurt decided then that there was no place in the world he’d rather be than under his favorite tree, a princess resting contently against his chest.

Part 2?

[forever-rogue]

request: some christmassy idea where marcus moreno brings presents he bought for missy to the shop to get wrapped up bc he cant wrap for shit. And he wants to flirt with reader whos the one whos gonna wrap the presents but for the love of the above he cant. hes stuttering and hes flustered and its cute. And reader is like okay mister "i can use the force", heres my number, call me so we can shedule a date. And hes so shocked about it 😄😭😭😭 thank u patricia! 🌟

I see it's time to write for Mr. Moreno? Excellent 😌 Enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly returned to the store, the bag of presents in his hand a sign of defeat. How hard it could possibly have been to wrap a few presents? Apparently too hard for someone like Marcus Moreno. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, oh no, he’d spent several hours the previous evening after Missy had gone to bed attempting to wrap the clothes and other oddly shaped boxes perfectly. But instead of success, all he gained was frustration. 

Instead of another vain attempt at the wrapping, he gave up and threw everything back into the bag and made his mind that he would go back to the small department store and ask...beg if you required it, for you to wrap the gifts. 

He might have been able to save the world on several occasions, but apparently his talents ended at Christmas gift wrapping. Well, he huffed to himself as he pulled open the door, the soft twinkling of bells meeting his ears, everyone had a limit. His just happened to be a little more pathetic than others. 

Super Hero, he reminded himself with each step, he was a fudgin’ super hero for fuck’s sake. But alas, when it came to more domestic things, such as cooking, and wrapping apparently, he was far from super. He was working on it though - spending time each day to make sure he was learning - doing enough - to be the father Missy needed. For her, and himself. Things weren’t always easy, but they were always getting better. 

Although tired from a long day at the office, throwing swords around, as Missy had dubbed it, his face instantly lit up when he spied you behind the counter, an almost bored expression on your face. The last of the Christmas rush was almost over, which meant business had slowed down, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Marcus would have been a liar if he said he didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming back; sure - he wanted the presents wrapped, but let’s be honest, the man was smitten with you. Any excuse to come back and chat with you, even if it was just five minutes was good enough for him. 

He’d known you, casually, for a few years now. You had been Missy’s teacher at school last year, and he knew that you worked the summers and holidays at your parent’s store to give them a hand with the rushes. Sometimes, being the sneaky Heroic he was, he’d made up excuses in the past to come into your classroom to spend a few minutes here and there talking to you. It was hard to believe that anyone could make him nervous, to make his heart flutter and beat like a nervous schoolboy, but there you were. Managing to do it every time. 

But he’d never act on it. No, no, no. That would be downright outrageous. After all, why on earth would you be interested in Marcus Moreno? He couldn’t even wrap a present.

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you looked up from the counter you were organized and offered him a dazzling smile, accompanied by a small wave. He was positive his heart stopped at the sight as he had to remind himself to breath. After a quick inhale and exhale, he marched over to you, ready to be firm, and hell, maybe today he’d finally ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime. Why not, after all? But then he took a good look at your eyes, those soft eyes and that gentle smile and he came undone.

“Hi Marcus,” you beamed at him as he did his best to give you a normal smile in response, “what a pleasure to see a friendly face. How are you?”

“Hi,” he managed to choke out as he calmed himself. How did you have this effect on him? He was a grown man, a man with plenty of experience in dating and love, and yet this one he couldn’t seem to nail down, “I’m fine  - you know what, why lie? I’m tired and I can’t wrap presents for shit. I hate to ask, but could you help me out? I’ve seen you do it for other people and I’m afraid if I try again, it’ll be worse than the first time. It’s been awful - oh my God, I’m so rude. I’m rambling - you look pretty - nice - how are you?”

“Marcus,” you giggled at him, watching as a nervous tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. You put your hand on his, effectively getting him to calm down and shut up, “slow down. It’s okay - I’ve got you covered. I assume work is busy?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he was instantly relieved as you took the presents from and grabbed some wrapping paper to display to him. He nodded at your choice and watching in awe as you made quick work of grabbing the first present and getting to work, “I was about ready to just leave him in the bag and give them to Missy like that.”

“Ahh, it’s not a big deal,” you shot him a quick wink, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But then again, I’ve been helping my parents with this stuff for years. Maybe sometime I’ll show you how.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he exhaled as he leaned against the counter and tried to pay it cool. His heart was thumping in his chest so rapidly, he was sure you were able to hear it as well. If you noticed anything out of place, you didn’t show it, “I’ll pay you - whatever you want.”

“Marcus,” you waved him off, “there’s no need. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Friends,” he almost choked on the word as he grinned at the delicate look of concentration on your face. Your brow was furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you made sure to get all the measurements just right, “how’s everything been? It’s been a while…”

“I know,” you agreed as you started some ribbon to start curling it, “I miss you coming into my classroom all the time, I miss Missy - it’s not quite the same without the Morenos.”

How much could hint at it before he finally got the bait? You’d harbored a crush on the man for years now, even before you became Missy's teacher. He was a Heroic after all - handsome, funny, smart, and kind. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? You'd hinted at your feelings a number of times and you thought he reciprocated a few times, but you could never be quite sure. And neither of you ever seemed to make a move. You'd come close a few times, but somehow just hadn't...quite gotten there.

“I miss it too,” he agreed quietly, turning his attention to his hands, “Missy doesn’t like her teacher as much this year.”

“That’s because I’m pretty cool,” you teased gently, “you look nice too, by the way. The all black thing - pretty sexy.”

Marcus was sure his heart stopped at your words; you couldn’t seriously have said what he thought you said. Right? Right. He looked at you with wide eyes as you refused to look up from what you were doing in case you had completely overstepped any remaining boundaries. 

“I, umm…” he paused for a moment, chuckling at his own nerves as he moved to stand in front of you, “I’m shit at this. But I, umm...I like you.”

“Marcus,” you stopped what you were doing and set the scissors down to meet his soft brown eyes. He had a small smile on his face, nervous as he watched your expression to try and get a read on the situation. Honestly? He’d rather have taken down another horde of aliens than wait for your response, “it’s about time you said something. I was beginning to think you never would.”

“Oh,” he let a nervous chuckle as your words set in, “oh. Oh?”

“I like you too, Marcus,” you admitted as a warmth flushed over you, “I just...I didn’t know how to say it. I was…”

“Nervous,” you both blurted out at the same time as you both laughed. At least you were on the same page. 

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he confessed as you nodded in understanding, “I feel like an old fool more than anything...but I’d like to take you out. On a date. A real date. Like you know not just...this, and I’m sorry if this is awkward. Missy’s been telling me to ask you forever and I just feel like -”

“Marcus,” you grinned at him as you reached up and held up a finger to his lips, “you’re rambling again, silly. I’d love to. I’d love to go out with you.”

“Seriously?” his eyebrows raised in surprise as you just nodded. Needless to say, he was not expecting this - any of it. 

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “come on, Mr. Force Hands, give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

“Okay,” he looked at you with nothing but soft hope in his eyes as he fished out his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You let your hand brush over his as you took it and quickly saved your number for him, “I...yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “but don’t actually forget to text me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed out easily, “besides, I owe Missy twenty bucks now and she’ll never forget it. We made a bet - she said I’ve never get the nerve to ask.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” you grinned at him, “now come on. Come around the counter and I’ll show you how to wrap properly.”

Marcus shuffled around the counter and you pointed to the spot you had previously occupied. Moving behind him, you paused for a moment before reaching around him to put your hands over his and help guide him. He swallowed thickly at your tender touch, trying to keep himself composed. 

“Now,” you said softly, “do it like this.”

It was definitely not what Marcus had expected to come out of this evening - but he was so glad it did. Finally. 

Maybe not being able to wrap presents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[dreamii-yume]

@shikigamiuwu said :

“Epel’s have a crush to y/n since they meet them and has confessed there love for y/n many times but y/n reject him. So since it was here birthday he thought of confessing again since he has birthday pass, but Y/n reject him again since he has a crush to Vil or Rook (whoever you want) to Epel’s demise, so Epel’s became so frustrated and angry that he just rape y/n and manipulate him on think y/n is not worthy to be with Vil’s so he can have y/n for himself.”

••••••••••

You, my good bitch, have sent like- four big-brained ideas for not only Epel but SILVER BIRTHDAY CRUMBS and I am ascending. Yume does not deserve this, I–

Warnings : Non-Consensual Touching | Non-Con | Yandere

“I like you.”

If it happened to be your first-time hearing Epel say those three words to you in such an affectionate manner, words that are obviously meant to be taken as a confession, it would’ve been enough to put you through a coma because of shock. You’ll be all flustered and probably stutter like a toddler learning how to speak for the first time, trying to figure out if it was a joke or not, despite the obvious signs. I mean...It was a confession from such a beautiful boy after all and you don’t really consider yourself as someone who can reach that level of beauty so, how can you not panic? If it were the first time, you wouldn’t know what to do, what words you should say, or which feelings you should prioritize. You’d be totally lost!

Except…This was no first time.

How many times had this beautiful boy confessed to you over the course of a few months? You weren’t counting, but you do know that you rejected each one of them respectfully and thoroughly. You didn’t why he kept coming back, he’s a lot more persistent than he lets on. “...How many times are you gonna tell me that?” You can answer him as differently as you want, but Epel would only smile at you and say the same thing every time.

“Until you can say that you like me back.”

The first time was as true as it could get, you were flustered, in the state of disbelief, plenty of eye movements going everywhere, grateful but unsure, and nervous sweat formed on your forehead. He loves you in a romantic sense, but even if he was someone precious to you, you just can’t see him as someone more than a really good friend, family even. “...But I keep telling you, I already like someone else.” It was your only excuse; it was a weak reason but at least it wasn’t a lie, Epel should know it more than anyone. It shuts him up, unable to say anything that could counteract your words and at first glance, it looks like a sign of giving up but soon, he’d just shrug it off like you never said anything in the first place.

It was troublesome, Epel wasn’t forcefully pushing his personal ideologies into you but having to tell you something that you already know is tiring to say the least. You wanted to be polite and even appreciate his honesty, but the more times he confesses, the more desensitized you get. Your rejections went from being apologetic to giving out an exasperated sigh and a shake of your head, just wanting to get it over with. It’ll just be the same anyways, the same confession and the same response, there was no point in sugar coating your words at this point.

“I like you.”

Epel might have thought that he’d get the response he wanted if he confesses to you on his birthday, but you could just shake your head in pity. No, you weren’t going to give in to the fact that it’s his special day and feel obligated to reciprocate his feelings because of it. You’d be lying otherwise, and you’re not about to build a relationship out of lies...Seriously, when is he ever going to stop terrorizing you with all these confessions, you’re starting to feel really bad about yourself here.

“Like I said a million times before, Epel.” You narrowed your eyebrows together with a stern and impeccable voice. “I don’t like you that way, I have someone I already like—“

“It’s Vil-san, right?”You widened your eyes as you looked back at Epel, surprised that he gave up a different answer than the usual. He was wearing the same smile as he does before, but up until now, you just can’t stand the fact on how empty it feels.

“H-How did you—“

“It’s obvious. Anyone could easily guess it if they observed you enough...Especially with how you constantly you look at him.” He said, his clear cerulean eyes burning holes into your soul. This made your cheeks flushed, quickly looking down...Do you really act that weird when it comes to Vil? It’s true that he makes your heart flutter and his presence was just something that you can’t turn a blind eye into but...You always thought that you were keeping your feelings cool and low. “What, don’t tell me you’re not aware of it yourself?”

Epel laughed, his hand covering his mouth like a delicate princess. “You’re really funny, charming even when your making such a dumb face too, hehe...” He said with a tinge of adorable red tainted on his flawless skin, rosy cheeks that you could only ever wish in your dream to have. You gulped as he looked back at you, staring straight into your unsettled eyes, making your body tense without knowing the actual reason as to why. “...But that’s only because I really like you that I’m willing to accept any of your bad characteristics. What do you think will I think if I were a normal person? If I were Vil-san?”

Your mouth closed and open multiple times, trying to find the words you want to say. Somehow, you began to piece together what he wanted to say and yet, you couldn’t actually stop him from saying it out loud. You knew it yourself; you didn’t need someone to pressure you into admitting something you already knew. Was Epel this much of a shrewd person before? Regardless, his pink polished lips twisted into a chilling smile.

“I’d think you’re disgusting.”

“You think you’re so smooth, following him around and eavesdropping every time he opens his mouth to talk just to hear his voice. You’re probably the type to steal some stuff from him too, it’s creepy!” Epel said, walking over to you as you kept your head held down, ashamed to be called out like this. “That makes you no different from a crazed fan, a stalker. Vil-san already gets plenty of those, he doesn’t need another one.”

You gasped as Epel grasped your chin, his eyes remaining as dark and cruel as you remembered them before, only that this time, he was no longer smiling. “…That’s why it’s disgusting. That’s not the kind of beauty Vil-san is looking for.” He said as you tried backing away, only for him to keep on stepping forward to stay close to you. “He’ll never acknowledge someone like you.”

You yelped as Epel suddenly pushed your shoulders down, tackling you down to the ground. Grunting, you landed in a not-so gentle manner with his beautiful face hovering above you. “...But I do.” He added, a small smile reappeared in his face, it was more like a pity smile if anything else.

You were getting scared, there was fear in your eyes alone as you try to search for your way out of this situation. Epel has a small structure despite being growing man himself, the different in size between the two of you are barely even noticeable! But with that cold, intimidating gaze, it feels as if you were forced to shrunk down beneath him. “E-Epel—“ Your voice calling out his name only became an encouragement for him to move his hands freely around your body. Even when you widened your eyes as he suddenly lifted up your shirt to expose your chest.

“W-Wait— no!” You can protest all you want, but even struggling against him as a fit resilience did nothing to reach conscience. Your breath was shaking as he merely swayed your flinging arms away, already weakened by your own will, and worked his way into freeing your mounds to be groped. His hand reached the underneath the skirt that you were wearing for his party and wasted no time in reaching for your underwear. Quavering lips turned into gasps of panic as he makes its way down to your erogenous zones, his nimble fingers able to send pleasures down your body. It didn’t take too long before the realization came to you, just how serious this is, that tears began to well up in your eyes.

He took no mind to it though, you plead and beg but you were met with cold, uncaring eyes as you felt a finger sliding in pass your folds. The way you squeaked like a mouse as he bit on your breast too, it was all too insignificant to really reach his ears at all…Looking deeper in the depths of those seemingly gentle eyes, it slowly occurred to you the emotions that he was hiding underneath there. Something that you’ve never noticed until now, or something that you never really bothered to look into, even if it was just for a split second.

All this time, Epel...was angry.

“S-Stop!” As if yelling out in a demanding voice can stop him, it only made him growl in irritation as he thrusted yet another finger inside you. Your willpower was incredibly weak, your stomach was already forming a knot ready to burst out any moment just by his fingers alone. With a scissor-like motion, it’s almost like he knew where to hit you, which places would feel good and would irk you even more, he even dug deeper down your entrance to explore undiscovered places.

An orgasm was inevitable, he was surprisingly skilled with his hands and your body wasn’t able to take all of that pleasure all at once and bursts right then and there. The toll on your body it took had you writhing on the ground, sobbing at the light-headed feeling spreading inside your brain. Epel seemed satisfied though, pulling out his fingers completely to marvel at how soaked you’ve made his fingers to be. “…You’re amazing.” He said, smiling down at you as he began to shuffle in between your legs, not even letting you rest for even a minute. “This is why I like you so much.”

“Please, stop...! W-Why…Why are you doing this…!?”

He leans in, wiping the tears off your cheek as he shook his head stubbornly. “Do you still…not understand?” He said, that chilling smile on his face was making it all the more terrifying for you as he comes and undo his pants. It’s not about whether or not you understood his motive here because you already had way too much time to do that, you were just in a state of disbelief that you’re just…doing anything you can to call off this reality your experiencing at this moment. “I said it over and over again, didn’t I?”

“I like you.”

Epel then chuckled, before shaking his head as if to correct himself from his own wording. “…No, maybe that’s why you couldn't understand.” He said, his smile becoming wider and wider. “Because it’s love.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

Streaming, Flaxen, Waxen; or Yang and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Jaune: *Storming in* Okay, it was kinda funny when you started hiding my scissors, Yang, but you gotta stop.

Yang: *Who had been eating her lunch, talking with Blake* Okay, what?

Jaune: My razors, Yang. Stop stealing them already.

Yang: *Genuinely baffled* Don’t know what’s crawled up your ass, Jaune, but I haven’t touched your razors. Or your scissors.

Jaune: Oh sure and I just happened to wanna grow my hair out.

*Sure enough Jaune’s blonde hair now reaches past his shoulders in a half up, half down style*

Blake: *Swirling a glass of water, eying Jaune* I think it looks nice.

Jaune: *High pitched* i tHinK iT loOkS nICe.

Yang: Hey, watch it. She’s being serious. It’s a good look--

Jaune: Fine, whatever, but the beard!? C’mon, stop playing games.

*Jaune also has a pale, almost metallic blonde beard that’s gotten pretty long - to the point where he needs a beard comb*

Yang: And I’m telling you *blows a raspberry, covers her mouth*

Jaune: *Opens mouth, closes it* Okay, not gonna lie. That kind of dismissal actually stings, Yang.

Blake: *Smiling behind her glass* Jaune. *Nods to the wall behind him*

Ruby: *Blushing*

Weiss: *Wide eyed*

Jaune: *Gears slowly start working*

Jaune: *Realization dawns, gasp overdramatically* IT WAS YOU TWO!

Yang: *Bursts out laughing*

Blake: *Giggles*

Jaune: *Gazing brokenly into the distance* Betrayed by my own girlfriends. Oh, I can totally understand why every singer ever has written about heartbreak now.

Weiss: *Eyes are still fidgeting, not looking  at him directly and her cheeks have pinked* Oh stop. I-it’s just...*awkward pause* well it was Ruby’s idea so she should explain it!

Ruby: *Blushes harder and ignores Yang’s cackling* What!? Weiss you traitor! *Weiss refuses to look at her, clasping her hands* Well, uh, Jaune, i-it’s...ah, I know! How about me, you and Weiss go to the bedroom and I’ll fuck Weiss’ face on your dick while you eat me out!

Weiss: *Immediately goes bright crimson, shrieks* RUBY ROSE!

Blake: *Silently shaking from laughter*

Yang: *Freezes, lurches forward a bit* Oh. Well this is a new kind of pain.

*Weiss is slapping at a squealing Ruby, face burning and trying to get past the taller girls defenses*

Ruby: *Defending herself and peeking at Jaune from between her arms* H-howza ‘bout it!? Ow, Weiss, I’m sorry! Ow!

Jaune: *Crosses arms, gives disappointed stare*

Ruby: ACK! Not that look! OW WEISS, MY EYE! *To Jaune, hand over her eye* I only like that look when it’s cause I couldn’t hold my breath long enough or cause I came before Weiss *mutters* again. *Weiss slaps her on the top of the head* Ow, my soft spot!

Weiss: *Her neck is now red too as she finally, grumpily, crosses her own arms* Your entire head’s a soft spot.

Blake: *Has her face on the table to hide her tearful eyes, her body shaking*

Yang: *Clutches her heart* What happened to my sweet little baby sister who wanted me to braid her hair and brought me cookies and her stuffie when I was sad?

Ruby: *Defeated* Fine. I hope you know just what you were turning down--

Yang: *Crisis intensifies*

Ruby: --but if you have to know, it’s c-cause, well, *quickly* you look super hot with long hair.

Yang: *Distressed* She can shatter my entire world without blinking an eye but that’s what’s got her bashful!?

Jaune: *Blinks* Uh, thanks?

Ruby: *Blushing, looks away bashfully* Really hot. *Nudges Weiss*

Weiss: *Won’t look him in the eye* No matter how you wear it. Right now? You kinda look like a viking and i-it’s...yummy. *Ruby nods agreeing* Ponytail?

Ruby: Somewhere between starving, sexy artist and casual Jaune, which is just as sexy if not more.

Weiss: And g-gods help either one of us if you let it down because I don’t think you understand how good you look with a breeze running through your hair, just l-looking over the horizon.

Ruby: Even if you’re just thinking about what you’re gonna eat later. Trust me. It works. *Eyes glaze over* It’s like someone took hot guy and heroic knight and wrapped them all into one and *whistles and Yang flinches at it*

Weiss: T-the point is it looks good. Very good.

Jaune: *Shocked, very flattered and blushing* Oh. I had no idea. And my beard?

Weiss: *Face wobbles and she squeals, putting her hands over her face*

Ruby: Uh, that’s Weiss for she likes the way it feels. *Carefully puts an arm up, eying her girlfriend cautiously* Especially when you’re going down on her or she parks it right on you.

Weiss: *Screams into her hands, kicks Ruby in the shin and turns away* R-Ruuuubyyyy!!!!!! These things are supposed to be private! B-between lovers!

Yang: *Looking harrowed* Finally someone speaking sense in this broken, twisted world.

Ruby: Please, Yang knows I do stuff. She’s fine.

Yang: *Gapes, swallows* I think I understand how Dad felt when I started dating now.

Ruby: *Shrugs at Jaune* And I kinda love that too. Plus, just...mmmm.

Jaune: *Rubs his neck, looking away* ‘Mmm’?

Weiss: *Muffled* Yes. Beards suit you. Y-you’re handsome no matter what, but the p-pervert’s not wrong to suggest that this new look is very attractive.

Jaune: *Genuinely bashful* Oh. Then I guess it’s not so bad. But why didn’t you just say something-- *Looks at Weiss hiding while Ruby won’t stop cutely fidgeting* --aaannnddd nevermind. Got it.

*They all awkwardly stand there for a few minutes before Jaune nods, looks to Yang*

Jaune: Sorry for accusing you guys, I just figured this had practical joke written all over it.

Yang: *Weakly* N-no problem, Jaune.

Ruby: *Nods in the background* Okay, you got us both all worked up again - OW! My butt! I’m gonna make you kiss it better, Wei-OW-OW-OW! I’m sorry! *Focuses on Jaune, rubbing her recently slapped bottom* Jaune. Bedroom.

Jaune: *Immediately distracted* Well I guess if I’m having that much of an effect *trails off before smirking* but I think I know two girls who are in clear need of spankings. Faces down and asses up, you naughty girls.

Ruby: *Whispers* Oh gods we gave him confidence. *Shivers, salutes* Yes sir! *Scampers off*

Weiss: *Staring wide eyed, blush acting back up and she swallows, speaks quietly* You’re not the boss of me.

Jaune: *Smirks, walking forward* Oh? *Chases after Weiss who shrieks, spins and runs after Ruby, following her with his head held surprisingly high*

Blake: *Breathing heavily, hiccuping while wiping away mirthful tears* Oh my goodness. Those three are something else.

Yang: *Thousand yard stare* I want to die and never see the light of day again.

Blake: Oh please.

Yang: My poor, innocent baby sister! *Trying not to cry as Blake rolls her eyes, grabbing Yang’s arm to lead her outside and away from the house*

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 50: “I think you’re beautiful” 

Enjoy! :D

Tim runs a finger over his pale skin, feeling the ridges of his newly acquired scar. It’s on his right hip and stretches around towards his back and because of the angle of it Tim has to turn to the side in the mirror to see it properly. Where the wound once was is now a raised white line surrounded by flushed pink skin which Tim knows will fade with time.

He sighs and drops his hand. It’s just another scar added to the countless number already scattered over his body. He’s been in the vigilante game for a long time, it makes sense that he would be covered in scars and have a variety of imperfections because of all the wounds and trauma his body has endured over the years. That fact doesn’t make it any easier to deal with though.

Looking at his reflection in the full-length mirror he has in his bedroom, Tim’s eyes travel to different scars on his person. He eyes the ones on his chest, those on his shoulders, his arms, his abs and even the faint one on his neck.

A good ninety percent of them have been because of vigilantism, whether that’s because he’s been shot, stabbed, sliced, beaten, or even caught in an explosion. The other ten percent he could boil it down to everyday things. Scrapes on his elbows and knees from falling over as a child, the times when glass has broken in his hand, accidents with scissors or even grazes that never healed properly.

Each one has a story Tim muses to himself as he studies them. Good or bad, they’re all a result of something that he’s had to endure. Maybe that’s why Tim should be proud of them, he’s faced something that was meant to cause him harm and he came out the other side still fighting.

He’s not proud though, he hates his body.

Well hate may be a bit too strong of a word, perhaps dislikes is better suited. He dislikes his body. Tim works hard to keep his body in shape, he has to because of the job, so he has well defined muscles even though he’s on the leaner side of things, he has an incredible level of fitness, and his agility is above average. He just hates – dislikes – the look of it. The scars don’t sit well with him.

“Hey Tim-”

Tim startles at the sudden voice. Before he could think about it, he lunges towards his bed to grab the t-shirt he left on it and shoves it on. When he turns around Kon is standing in the doorway shooting him a questioning look.

Neither of them move or say anything for several moments. As he stares at Kon, Tim could feel his heart pounding inside his chest and the way his skin grows hotter, he can’t believe Kon just caught him staring at himself in the mirror for who knows how long.

Clearly seeing Tim’s embarrassment, a grin begins to stretch across his face as he makes his own conclusions to what he walked in on. Kon takes a step towards him, laughing. “Tim, dude, were you just checking yourself out?”

Tim doesn’t know what to do with himself, because yes he was checking himself out, however not for the reasons Kon was clearly thinking of.

Opposite him Kon continues to snicker. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Tim! We all do it from time to time.”

“I wasn’t checking myself out Kon!” Tim pathetically lies. He bets his face is as red as a tomato by now.

Kon stops a foot away from him and raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Uh huh, then what were you doing? And by the way, your shirt’s on backwards.”

Tim’s eyes widen and he snaps his gaze down and to his horror his shirt is indeed on backwards. Tim curses and moves to correct it.

“Look it’s nothing, forget it.” Tim demands firmly avoiding eye contact. He wraps his arms around himself defensively.

Kon’s laughter finally dies down and he shakes his head. “Tim seriously-”

Tim cuts him off before he could finish that sentence. “Now what do you want Kon?” When the meta blinks at him Tim rolls his eyes feeling annoyed. “You obviously came here for something, now what is it?”

It takes Kon a moment to answer and Tim could tell that his boyfriend is now studying him, finally picking up on the cues that there’s more to the situation than what he originally assumed. “You were taking a while to get ready so I came to get you. Everyone’s waiting in the media room to start the movie.”

Tim sighs. Right he had forgotten about that, it’s movie night with the team. They had finished a mission earlier and each went to freshen up before migrating to the media room, Tim had gotten distracted after getting out the shower when he started to stare at his body.

Huffing, Tim starts making his way to the door. “Okay. Sorry for the hold up, let’s go.” He doesn’t make it to the door as Kon reaches out and grabs his wrist when he passes by him. Tim grits his teeth and tugs his wrist trying to get it out of the Kryptonian’s grasp. “Kon let go.”

“Tim what’s going on?” All playfulness has dropped from his voice leaving nothing but seriousness behind.

“You’re not letting me go. That’s what.” Tim snaps. When Kon’s grip doesn’t loosen Tim stops fighting, he sags in the hold and refuses to look at him. “Kon it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing Tim. You’re clearly worked up about something.”

While Tim doesn’t deny it, he still refuses to look at his boyfriend. Frustratingly Kon isn’t letting this go. He tugs Tim in close and wraps his arms around him in a firm hug. Taken by surprise by the sudden action, it takes Tim a few moments to respond. Loosely wrapping his arms around the meta’s waist Tim hugs him back and rests his head against Kon’s shoulder.

Eventually Kon pulls away, he reaches up and cups Tim’s cheeks with hands, his thumbs gently stroking the skin there. “Talk to me Tim.”

Tim closes his eyes and focuses on Kon’s touch. It’s so stupid. The whole reason why he’s worked up is stupid as Tim knows there’s no reason to be so wound up over the idea of scars on his body. Nevertheless he can’t help but feel insecure about them from time to time, especially compared to Kon who has absolutely flawless skin. His boyfriend doesn’t have on scar on him, no physical reminders of past traumas, just perfectly smooth sun kissed skin.

When Tim doesn’t speak, Kon sighs sadly and moves his hands down Tim’s body. He strokes Tim’s arms down from the shoulders to his hands before moving to his torso, he brushes down his sides to his waist, however before he could reach Tim’s new scar Tim has his hand captured in his own to stop any further exploration.

“Tim?” Kon questions wearily.

Tim grits his teeth knowing he’s just given himself away. Not saying anything, Kon gently pries his hand out of Tim’s grasp and moves his hand to Tim’s side. This time Tim doesn’t stop him, though he certainly tenses up as Kon slides his hand underneath his t-shirt and brushes the skin there. Tim shivers as Kon’s fingers ghost over his sensitive skin where the new scar is.

“It’s just that it’s another one, y’know.” Tim admits quietly. “I hate them all and every time I get a new one it’s another reminder of how imperfect I am or how I screwed up.”

Kon continues to not say anything and his silence is starting to put Tim on edge. What is his boyfriend thinking? Usually Kon isn’t one to hold back his opinion so him being quiet is rather unsettling, particularly when Tim is so worked up about it.

“Kon say something.”

Instead of speaking Kon uses actions. He undresses Tim from his shirt, forcing it up and over his head before he could even comprehend what’s going on, and turns him around so he’s facing the mirror. Kon then presses in close behind him and wraps his arms around him to lock him into place.

Tim huffs at the manhandling and glares at Kon through the mirror. He’s not pleased to be seeing himself half dressed once again when he’s in a negative head space and especially with Kon standing right behind him. As he tries to look away an invisible force holds his head still, making sure he can’t look anywhere else but at their reflection. Damn Kon and his TTK.

Kon rests his chin on Tim’s shoulder once he knows Tim isn’t going to run away. “I know you hate your scars. You see them as imperfections, as ways that your body is flawed and ugly. They’re physical and permanent reminders of traumas you endured in the past.”

Tim grits his teeth and without meaning too his eyes drift over his body to each scar he had been staring at earlier, his gaze lingers on the newest one to the collection.

“Would you like to know what I think about your body and scars?”

At Kon’s rhetorical question, Tim’s gaze meets Kon’s through the mirror. Kon seemed to be staring back at him with an expression mixed of determination and adoration.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

There’s a pause in time as Tim registers his words. It’s like that sentence has caused his brain to malfunction. Out of everything Tim had been expecting Kon to say, those words were not even close to what he had in mind.

He doesn’t know how to take it, he’s half tempted to laugh at the cheesiness of them however on the other hand they make his insides go all warm and fuzzy and he has to fight off a blush from happening.

“What?” Comes out of his mouth in the end. Kon must have been expecting this because he doesn’t even seem mildly surprised by Tim’s lack of response. His lips curve up into a smile and he presses a light kiss to his bare shoulder.

“You heard me. Everything about you is beautiful. The good and the bad, your strengths and your weaknesses, your mind and your body.”

Letting out a long breath, Tim leans back into Kon. “They’re ugly though.”

Kon shrugs and gives Tim a squeeze. “I don’t think they are. Your scars are a part of you and that makes them special even if you don’t see it yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

They stand together in front of the mirror for a little while longer, both lost in their thoughts and in the moment. It takes a shout from down the corridor to burst their bubble and remind them of where they are and what they were originally doing. Kon snorts and presses one last kiss to Tim’s temple before moving away while Tim shakes his head in both amusement and embarrassment as he grabs his t-shirt to put it back on.

The two of them join hands as they leave Tim’s room. While Tim doesn’t feel much better about his body, and he knows it’s going to take time to accept it and a lot of work but he hopes he’ll get there some day, at least he feels reassured that Kon isn’t disgusted by the sight of it.

As if he’s reading Tim’s mind, Kon leans in close and whispers into his ear, “After movie night, I’m going to show you just how much I like your body. By the time I’m done there won’t be a single negative thought about it in your mind…”

Tim draws back scandalized. He slaps his boyfriend’s arm feeling himself flush at the implications of his words. “Conner!”

Kon only laughs and enters the media room with a flushed Tim trailing behind him. Even though they hadn’t done anything, Tim’s face seems to suggest otherwise and everyone waiting certainly has something to say about it, nonetheless Tim doesn’t correct them and accepts their good-natured teasing for the night.

[storiesbymads]

THIS BIKINI’S MADE FORE DANCING (AND HITTING THE FLOOR)³ ( sun kissed desires . )

Y/N finds herself on the lovers cruise she was supposed to be on with her fiancé—ex-fiancé—when she meets a single man in the suite right next to hers.

warnings: smut

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

Your morning ventures ended with probably the best mid morning nap you’d ever had in your life. You woke up without a headache, thankfully, and with the way you’d guzzled the water bottle on your nightstand before you’d crashed out, you felt halfway ready to take on the world.

You dug through your duffel bag in an attempt to find one of the twelve bathing suits you’d packed three days ago. Hopefully you’d packed your cute ones, you’d been in such a rush you honestly had no idea what all was in your bag or if anything really matched. Finally, you found a black set at the bottom that was simple enough that it wouldn’t require too many of your brain cells to put on, still being kinda sleepy and everything.

Finding your way to the pool was easy, considering it was in the dead center of the boat. You were surprised to see the number of kids sitting around the edge of the pool when you got down there, feet dangling in the chlorine filled liquid. You glanced down at the phone in your hand to see the time. 12:08. Adult Swim.

You crossed the short expanse of wooden walkway over to the lounge chairs, dropping your few belongings onto the small table beside the single free one you could find before covering your phone and key card with the towel you’d just barely remembered to bring down so the sun wouldn’t wreak too much havoc on them. The chair was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked when you situated yourself on it.

The sound of a whistle sent your head snapping in the direction of the pool only to see a few dozen kids jumping into the water as the few adults scrambled to get out in time.

And, of course, your eyes found Sidney’s in record time. God, how could one man be so pretty? The fact that he was practically dripping wet didn’t help, either.

He had a pair of teal swim trunks on, oddly enough, and they seemed to cling to everything as he climbed out of the water. To you, it felt like he was moving in slow motion, but it probably only took him about thirty seconds before he was walking in your direction. No. Right. To. You.

He shook his head slightly as he did so, attempting to conceal the grin making its way onto his face. God, he’s cute, too.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, louder than the other times you’d spoken with him—you gave that up to the fact that you were outside. He’d still yet to adjust his swim trunks and the tent in them seemed to be staring you right in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one that came up to me,” you scoffed dismissively. Sidney just cleared his throat in response, nodding toward his belongings in the seat next to yours. The only thing separating his belongings from yours was the tiny metal table, and even that was covered in your personal items. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocked lightly. He opted to sit on the edge of your chair rather than take the last two steps towards his own, the warm skin of his thigh brushing against your own. The barely there touch sent tingles up your spine. You couldn’t imagine what having all of him pressed up against you would feel like.

He picked his hand up off the plastic of the chair, hesitating slightly and letting it rest in the air above your leg for a second too long, before letting his rough fingers meet the smooth skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started. “About your offer earlier.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the flimsy bow holding the fabric together.

“M-my offer?” you stuttered out.

“Are you sober...” he trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He was fiddling with the nylon string at this point.

“Y/N,” you hummed out a response. “And, yes. Took a nap and everything.”

“Good,” he said before abruptly getting up so that he could collect his things from his own chair. Your skin felt cold without his touch despite the scalding heat you were being exposed to. He turned back around as he shoved his phone into his still damp pocket, “C’mon, pretty girl. We don’t have all day.”

You practically jumped up from your seat to grab your things, in spite of a chuckling Sidney behind you.

The walk to the lobby happened in what felt like half a second and before you knew it, Sidney had you pressed up against the outside of his room door. Maybe being on the first floor wasn’t such a bad thing.

His hips were pressing into yours, his fingers were bruising against your waist, and his lips. They were everywhere. You don’t even remember when he’d started kissing you, you just know you didn’t ever want him to stop.

He pulled away just enough to leave you panting and chasing his lips.

“I gotta open the door,” he whispered, lips grazing yours as he did so. The door clicked seconds later which allowed the two of you to slip inside only for Sidney to halfway shove your against the other side of the door the second it closed. Your palms fell flat against his exposed chest, slipping lower and lower as the moments passed until you were thumbing the hemline of his shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered out.

“Please, what?” he asked.

“Just. Please,” you answered. His hand found the tie to your top in a matter of seconds, undoing it slowly before repeating the process with the one around your neck and letting it fall to the floor between you.

His lips attached to the column of your throat as his fingers traced the edges of your bottoms. His mouth moved lower and lower until he was circling your left nipple with his tongue.

Stopping suddenly, he rose back up to his full height, motioning for you to jump with two taps on your hip as he lifted it to his waist. He carried you across the short expanse of his room, dropping you on the recently made up comforter of his bed.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mumbled before reattaching his lips to yours. He tasted like heaven. There was a faint mint flavor that you chalked up to being his toothpaste mixed with the distinct taste of Minute Maid lemonade and a sweet tea brand you couldn’t identify.

His clothes cock rutted against your core, sending flickers of the sight of him getting out of the pool glittering through your mind again. Those swim trunks left nothing to the imagination.

He shifted lower over your body, tugging your bikini bottoms down in one swift motion and quite literally tossing them over his shoulder.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So pretty and pink and wet for me. You’re dripping all over my sheets, pretty girl.”

One of his digits slipped between your folds, spreading the wetness around as he circled your clit with the pad of his finger.

“I think you’re a little-“ you cut yourself off with a moan when he slipped the finger inside you. “Overdressed.”

“Patience,” he said, inserting another finger into your hole. He curled his fingers in a scissoring motion, eliciting a high pitched gasp to fall from your lips. His thumb quickly found your clit which sent your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered.

“Look at me,” he said. You ignored his comment, head hitting the pillow underneath you only for his movements to stop. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock,” he said, pulling his fingers from you so that he could shove the teal shorts down his legs just enough for his dick to slap against his stomach.

He grabbed a condom out of his wallet on the nightstand, ripping the packaging open with his teeth before rolling it down the length of his dick.

“Fuck me,” you groaned out as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“I was planning on it,” he exhaled. He didn’t even give you a second to respond before he pushed in halfway.

“Holy fuck, you’re huge,” you said, unintentionally clenching around him. He shuddered before fully bottoming out.

“And you’re incredibly tight,” he said. It didn’t take him long to find his pace as his hands molded bruises into the sides of your hips.

His lips found your neck soon after, running his teeth lightly along the top of your collarbone as your hands found his hair. You would’ve commented on the softness of it if you had a coherent thought in your head. But all you could think about was the burning pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-“ you repeated like a mantra until your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, hips snapping into yours at an even faster rate. He lasted about two more thrusts before you felt him still inside you. He stayed there for a moment before he pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

The thoughts started rushing into your head before the post-orgasm bliss even had the time to fully wear off. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. Sure, he was gorgeous and, sure, he was practically the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on. But you were gonna be stuck living next door to him for the next two weeks.

You were already off the bed and grabbing your things from where they’d been dropped at the door—something you didn’t remember doing in the first place—when you heard Sidney turn the shower on. You had your bikini back on before his eyes hit you again.

“You can join me, if you want,” he said as he watched you scramble around his room from where he was leant up against the ensuite’s door frame.

“As much as I would love to do that, I’ve gotta get going,” you said, throwing open the room door and letting it shut before he could get another word out.

You had other things on your plate, anyway. Current mission: find Sigma. She might not be your best friend in the world, at least, yet, but you needed to tell someone about what just happened.

And judging by the way you’d scrounged what felt like the entire ship at this point—not really, you really only checked like three, very public areas—your mission was proving more impossible than you would’ve liked. Then, when you thought all hope was lost, you remembered the teensy tiny little tidbit of information she’d given you this morning when you were in six mimosas. She was staying in Room 215.

“Y/N! How unexpected,” Sigma said as she opened up her door wide enough to let you in. Her southern charm was seeping through every word and it really was no wonder how she’d already gotten married at 23.

You saw a man laying on the bed, thankfully, fully clothed with a remote control laying on his stomach. You heard a woman’s voice coming from the TV and what sounded like a murder documentary.

Sigma was ushering you out onto her balcony before you had time to really search her and husband’s room any further.

“What’s this surprise visit all about? I thought you’d gotten of me this morning,” she said as the two of you sat in the bolted down, metal chairs out there.

“You know that really hot guy in the room next to mine,” you said.

“No,” she exhaled. Maybe you’d forgotten to mention that this morning. Course, you barely remembered anything you’d mentioned this morning.

“Well,” you started. “There’s a really hot guy in the room right next to mine. And I may or may not have just hooked up with him.”

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“I almost wish I was,” you groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Was it that bad?” she asked with a wince. You looked over at her with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“It was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” you said.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know. He’s kinda like my neighbor for right now, and somehow we manage to bump into each other everywhere we go. I just don’t want things to be even more uncomfortable for me on this stupid boat.”

“Honey.”

“I know, I know. It’s dumb,” you sighed. “I’m just not ready to get involved with another guy. Not after what happened with Max,” you said.

“Look, sweetheart. You’re never gonna find someone if you don’t give yourself the chance to open up. And who says this whole thing with your supah hot guy has to go any further than it has. I say if you get the chance, go for it.”

“Get the chance?”

“To have sex again! According to you, it was the best sex, like, ever.”

The next twenty minutes went on like that until Sigma’s husband practically forced her to go back inside and get ready for something. You took that as your cue to leave.

You were glad you’d gone to find her today. As weird as a start that you’d had for your friendship, she was probably one of the easiest people you’d ever had the opportunity of talking to.

The walk back to your room was quick. That was when you realized the only item you currently had in your possession was your phone. And not your key card. You knew you’d had it before the incident with Sidney and you were sure you’d grabbed everything on your way out of Sigma’s room. Which left one option. It was still on Sidney’s floor.

Sighing, you dropped your head in defeat, walking the two steps it took so that you were face to face with the wooden door you were pressed up against over an hour ago. Your hand hovered in the air until you worked up enough courage to actually knock.

“Here for this?” he asked, holding up the white card in one hand after he opened the door just wide enough to see you.

“Yes, thank you,” you said, reaching out to grab it from him only for him to pull it back, inches from your grip.

“You could’ve just gone to the front desk,” he said.

“I-“ you started. “Forgot that was an option.”

“Why are you always wet when we see each other?” you asked with an eye roll as the door swung open.

“Actually, I distinctly remember you being equally as wet when we met earlier,” he said.

“You’re insufferable,” you scoffed.

“And you’re adorable,” he said before actually handing over the key.

“Says the guy that takes hour long showers,” you said.

“I got a little preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed.

“You sure you have to go to your room?” he asked, tantalizingly slow, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air around you as his tongue slipped past his lips. Your eyes stayed glued to the water droplet running down his throat.

“I guess-“

“Well, come on then. Wouldn’t want you getting cold out there, pretty girl,” he said, the hand still holding your key card clasping around your wrist as he pulled you into his chest, and consequently, back into his room.

tags @kiedhara @thefootballfaithful @stuetzlesumlaut @penstxgal1968 @linkingdolans @englishmuffinwritesbooks @mrsvech37 @honeybearbarzal @burningbiatch @hannabritta @monalicia @mymanshawn @butgilinsky @pierreslucdubois @damndunner @klutchnetsov @stampiej @punkharts @heatherawoowoo

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: Asking to Borrow S/o's Razor/ Wax

A/n: so this came from the revelation that stray kids probably freaking shave and wax their armpits. BC LIKE OMG THEYVE B EEN WEARING TANK TOPS RECENTLY and like idek man like i was just like its so smooth that cant be natural

Tagging: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​(if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or reblog! <3)

Warnings: probably some cursing

Bangchan:

“AAAAAHH NO!!!” 

Hearing your boyfriend’s scream you raced to the bathroom door and knocked. This would not have been the first time Chan had fallen asleep in the shower and slipped. “Chan! You okay, love?” You asked, knuckled wrapping against the door. 

“Uhhhh....one sec, Y/n.” 

You waited patiently in the hall before Chan told you to come in. The shower had been turned off and Chan stood in the shorts he was wearing earlier and his hair hung in wet strands in front of his face. “You okay?” You asked eyeing him for injuries. Then your gaze fell upon the little pink razor that lay in two parts in Chan’s hand. Your boyfriend looked from you to the shaving utensil cutely.

“I think I broke it.” He mumbled.

Your heart fluttered seeing his adorable face looking down at the tiny pastel broken razor in his big hands. “Yeah, I think you did, babe.” You did your best not to laugh when he tossed the snapped razor onto the counter. You watched him reach under the sink and pull out a clear bag full of little pink razors. The kind you used to use in middle school. “Oh my gosh, Chan you aren’t using those are you?” 

He blushed seeing you laugh at the bag. “Yeah...why?” 

“Awww baby.” You kissed his cheek and took the bag and tossed it in the trash. Your boyfriend watched you open a drawer and pull out one of the extra razors you had lying around. “Here use this. I’ll go buy you an actual razor this weekend.” His dimples made an appearance as I handed him the metal razor. 

“Thank you, Y/n.” He said kissing your forehead.

Minho:

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called out into the apartment. “Y/n!” 

You sighed and got up from your comfy place on the couch. “What, Minho?” One of the cats brushed up against your leg as you walked into your shared bedroom. “I thought you were gonna take a shower?” Minho lay face down on the bed, like the drama queen he was. 

“I can find my mppphrhp.”

“You’re what?”

“My mmrmpr.”

“Babe, take your head out of the pillow.” Minho dejectedly rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t even move when Doori hopped onto the bed and snuggled into his chest. 

“My razor. I can’t find my razor. My stylist called and told me she has me in a cutoff tee tomorrow and I haven’t shaved since before the comeback.” Knowing Minho, he probably left it out on the last tour or something and one of the boys swiped it. They were always ‘borrowing’ things from each other and never giving it back.

“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” You said turning on the light to the adjoining bathroom. “Are you too upset to take off your shirt?” The only answer you received was a grumble from Minho and the sound of fabric rustling. You came back into the room with a box of wax strips. 

Minho raised his head, hearing the box open and he shot up from the bed fear in his eyes. “Hey...back off.” He tried to laugh off the nervousness as I approached him with a wax strip in hand. “Y/n, you know I love you right?” He said holding a hand out so you kept your distance.

“Come on, Minho. It will only hurt like.....a lot.”

He sprinted out of the room only to trip over a cat, giving you a chance to tackle him and apply a strip to his underarm. “Y/N! NO- OWWWWWWWW YOU ASSHOLE!”

Changbin:

Your nap was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend loudly opening drawers in the bathroom. “Binnie! Shut the hell up please!” You said stuffing a pillow over your head. He mumbled an apology but continued to loudly open cabinets.

“Hey...baby?” Changbin asked crawling onto the bed. He lifted the pillow from your face and laughed at your scowl. “I need your help.” You shook your head and turned over. “Please....” He tried pulling the covers away from you, but the effort was in vain.

“Y/n I’ll order your favorite takeout if you help me?” He coaxed in a cute voice. Changbin laughed when your sleepy face peeked out from under the covers.

“What do you want, Binnie?”

He huffed and collapsed on top of you, a groan leaving you in response to his weight. “I forgot my razor at the dorms. Do you have one I could borrow?” You rose an eyebrow and wrapped an arm around his bare back. 

“By borrow do you mean gunk up with your armpit hair?” Changbin laughed and nodded. “No, sorry. I only use wax.” He sighed and dropped his head down into your neck. 

“Is it my only option?” 

To be honest, you probably had a cheap razor lying around somewhere, but....he had woken you up from your nap. He deserved it. “Yes, this is your only option.” He whined and rolled off the bed. You told him where you kept the wax and paper and he retrieved them from the bathroom.

“I’m a manly man. This should be nothing.” He said, giving himself a pep talk as you spread wax over a strip and placed it under his left arm. He raised it over his head and readied himself for the pain. “Ooo. That wasn’t so bad.”

“Changbin I haven’t pulled it yet.” He just blushed and stared straight ahead. A high pitched scream filled the apartment when you ripped away the paper.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin lounged on your shared bed, blonde hair laid out in weird directions as he scrolled through his phone. You walked out of the bathroom carrying the laundry hamper, most of it filled with Hyunjin’s workout clothes. “Oh, Chan called and asked me to remind you that you are filming your dance practice tomorrow.” You said adjusting your hold on the basket.

“Thanks, babe,” Hyunjin answered still on his phone. 

“Your clothes are rank, Jinnie.” You said beginning to sort through the clothes so you could begin laundry. He shot up from the bed eyes wide. You watched as he ran to your closet and searched through the clothes. “What’s wrong?” You asked sorting the dirty clothes.

“All I have left are tank tops.” 

“So? You look really hot in tank tops.” You said with a smile. Hyunjin collapsed against the closet doorframe. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong, drama llama?” He whined and groaned until he collapsed onto the floor in a puddle of depressed Hyunjin.

He pouted up at you. “I forgot to buy a new razor. I can’t film in a tank top tomorrow looking like Bigfoot!” You laughed, finding the tiniest bit of joy in his misfortune. Hyunjin was honestly overreacting. You were certain no one would care if his underarms weren’t smooth and shaved. 

However, knowing he was going to whine and complain and be an overall pain in the butt until the problem was solved, you stopped sorting the laundry. Hyunjin was too caught up in his whiny fit to see you go into the bathroom and pull out an extra razor from under the sink.

“There. Problem solved.” You said tossing it into his lap. 

“Thank you, Y/n.” He said, expression changing to a bright smile like a flip of a coin. He rushed over and gave you a sweet kiss before sprinting into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Jisung:

“HEY BABY!”

The loud sound of Jisung’s voice rung out through the apartment making you jump. Your ears picked up on the sound of drawers opening and closing. You pushed yourself off the couch and ventured into the bathroom. Your boyfriend stood with messy hair and half his shirt over his shoulder rummaging through the cabinets.

“What’s up handsome?” He sighed, a small whine escaping his lips when his head rolled back.

“I can’t find my razor. I think I lost it on tour.” You leaned against the doorway and watched Jisung continue to search. He gave up eventually and tugged his arm back into his shirt. “Can I borrow yours? I have a performance tomorrow.” He asked cutely taking your hands in his. 

“Jisung, I only have wax strips right now. I used yours if I needed a razor.” Everyone knew guys razors were better. He flinched hearing the word wax. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He was debating whether to go through the pain of wax or go on stage in a tank top unshaven.

“Fine. But will you help me?” 

You nodded and he trudged his feet into your shared bedroom. “Shirt off babe.” You called before grabbing the strips from below your sink. Jisung lay on your bed, feet planted on the floor and hands covering his face. His tan skin exposed to the air. You leaned over, crawling on top of him and resting your thighs on either side of his waist. “Ready.” He nodded squinting his eyes closed.

He raised his arm and you placed the strip down and smoothed it out. Jisung’s other hand held on firmly to the bedspread. “1...2...” You yanked off the strip before you got to three.

“HOLY FUCK!” Your boyfriend screamed. You took his face in your hands and peppered it with kisses.

“You ready for the other side?”

“No. But....just do it.” He flinched, feeling you press another strip under his other arm.

Felix:

Felix had been in the bathroom for three hours. You were starting to get a little worried. After another hour without hearing the shower or water running, you decided to check on him. Your knuckles tapped on the wooden door. “Felix, baby, you okay?” 

“Actually could you come in? I need some help.” His deep voice floated through the door. The scene that greeted you when you opened the door almost made you laugh out loud. Felix was standing shirtless in front of the mirror his arm raised above his head. Foamy soap was in his armpit and he held scissors in his hand, the blade having little traces of foam soap on it. “What?” He asked when you started laughing.

“Felix, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m trying to shave. We are filming at a water park tomorrow.” 

You could no longer hold in your laughs. Felix watched you fall to the floor clutching your side. “Oh my gosh....I can’t breathe.” You said between labored laughs. 

“Why are you laughing at me?” He asked completely serious. You smiled seeing your boyfriend look at you with utter confusion his arm still slightly raised. He watched you lean in and place a kiss to his lips. “What was that for?” He asked, though he thoroughly enjoyed the kiss. He smiled feeling your fingers play with the end of his hair.

“You are too cute.” He blushed and looked down. “If you needed to borrow a razor all you had to do was ask, baby.” He smiled and kissed you again.

“Can I use your razor, please, darling?” I reached into the nearest drawer, a hand still on Felix’s cheek, and pulled out the shaving utensil. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“What’s mine is yours, Lix.”

Seungmin:

“Hey, Y/n?” Your boyfriend called. 

You set down the spoon you were stirring with and turned down the heat on the stove. “Coming, Min. One sec!” You wiped your hands on a towel before following your boyfriend’s call into your bathroom.

He was on his knees and searching for something under your sink. “Hey, can I borrow your razor?” He questioned as if he was simply asking the time. The question confused you. He wanted to borrow your razor? Like the one you shaved your legs with?

“My what?” 

“Your razor.” 

Still quite confused you walked into your bedroom and pulled out your still semi-full suitcase. You had gotten back from a trip a few days ago and Seungmin had spent the last few nights at your place. He claimed that it was because he needed a break from the boys, but you knew he missed you. His arms wrapped around your stomach from behind and he watched you search through your bag for the shaving utensil.

“Why do you need this again?” You asked, pulling out your toiletry bag.

“Cause I usually borrow Jisung’s before a performance but Changbin stole it before I could.” 

“I’m gonna ignore how unhygienic that is.” You said pulling out a clean razor from under your shampoo bottle. “Here you go.” His hand brushed yours when he took the commercial blade from your grip.

“Thanks cutie.” He surprised you by pressing an exaggerated kiss to your cheek before running back to the bathroom.

“KIM SEUNGMIN IF YOU CLOG MY RAZOR I WILL CASTRATE YOU.”

“I KNOW!”

Jeongin:

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called. Innie was somewhere in your apartment doing something. This was one of the few days the Jeongin had free of any schedules and you were ecstatic he chose to spend it with you at home. 

He turned when you opened the door to the bedroom. Jeongin sat on the edge of the bed in a loose tank top. “What’s up, handsome?” You asked jumping onto the bed and resting your chin on his shoulder. 

“Do you have a razor I could borrow?” Your brows furrowed in thought. To your recollection, you only had wax strips. They gave you a closer shave job than a razor. He sighed when you shook your head ‘no’.

You rubbed his shoulder and he gave you a half-assed smile. “I have wax strips. They will be a little painful, but they will get the job done.” Jeongin let out a nervous laugh before shrugging and letting me go get the strips from the bathroom. 

“How much is it gonna hurt?” He asked, eyes going soft. He laid down on the bed at your direction and raised his arms over his head. 

“Not as much getting your ears pierced.” You said placing the wax strip in his armpit and smoothing it out.

“I don’t have my ears pierced.”

“Yeah, when are you gonna do that? You would look really hot with piercings.” In the middle of your sentence, you ripped away the paper making your boyfriend yelp in pain. “Aww....baby.” You leaned down and kissed his cheek before moving to his lips. 

“You’re right that wasn’t too bad.”

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[fluffyskies]

hi friend! i was thinking maybe you could write a story about a character from both animes? bakugou meets shoyo ? one of my favs from both! just an idea ,'3

Oooh I love the idea!! X3 yes coming right up!

"Who are you?"

Lee Hinata! Ler Bakugou!

Warning ⚠️ a bit of swearing ;-;

It was almost in an instant that Bakugou was there with his classmates fighting another villain. But he somehow ended up in a portal that teleported him to who knows where. It wasn't a surprise that Bakugou himself got into to trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ok let's do rock paper scissors to settle this" Daichi declared. The others nodded in agreement seeming this is the only way to stop the endless bickering.

"On three. One, two....three!" And everyone seemed to have chosen rock but there was one who chose scissors.

"Arhhhhggg!! No! Why'd I have to chose scissors! complained the tiny redhead. Kageyama chuckled "Serves you right carrot head". Hinata glared at him with daggers but all he got in return was a smug smile.

"So Hinata cleans up the equipment right?" asked Asahi.

"Yep! that's right" Suga said with a cheerful smile. Asahi nodded and went to collect his things in the locker room. Then everyone else followed all with content faces meaning that they were relieved that they didn't have to clean up.

Hinata began taking the volleyball net down and struggling to get it off the hook. Kageyama was leaving and he noticed the short spiker jumping to reach the net, so he walked over trying not to laugh at his failure.

"S-so need help?" putting a hand over his mouth to not giggle. Hinata looked over at him and squinted his eyes and made a pouty face.

"Pshh no I'm good and pleeeeaase I don't need your pity" and he turned away dramatically. The tall setter just shrugged and left with everyone else, while Hinata grumbled to himself. Though some of his teammates did ask if he needed any help like Noya and Daichi even that meanie Kageyama asked but he declined. Lost in thought he heard a loud crash in the middle of the court turning around to see what it was.

"Ouch! that hurt like hell, where the heck am I?" looking around it seemed he landed in a volleyball court room.

"Uhhh...who are you...?" asked the surprised kurasuno player.

"Huh?" the UA student looked at him. "Actually I should be asking who the fuck are you?" getting up and looking down at the short redhead. Hinata jumped and backed away a bit trying to figure out what just happened. The guy looked like he was wearing some sort of super hero suit and looked intimidating.

"Did you come out of a portal or something?"

"No I fell out of the sky, idiot! Of course I came through a damn portal!? I mean what else is more logical than that" and this is when he got a good look at who he was actually talking to. He stopped and took a step forward. "Wait a minute you kinda look like Deku why the hells that?".

"H-huh? who's Deku?"

"Eh that's not important just saying you kinda look like him but with orange hair that damn idiot" he muttered. "Anyways care to tell me where the hell I am?"

"W-wait shouldn't I be asking that? Since like it was you who came out of a portal and all"

"Heh, you wanna act smart with me?" taking more steps forward with a devilish smile.

"U-uhh what?" Hinata panicked because he looked scary and he looked like he could blast him to bits. "O-oh no of course not ehehe..." knowing this feeling all too well from Kageyama who seemed to let his anger on him alot.

"Well, if your not gonna tell me then I'll just have to force you" and with that he charged at the short redhead and knocked him over making him squeak. "Now are you gonna tell me who you are and where I am?"

"No! You answer me first!" he yelled at him

"Ok it's your choice" and he began scribbling kinda hard on his sides. And much to his surprise he was indeed ticklish.

"HahEY thahahat tihIhicKles!"

"Yeah it must tickle a whole lot, now tell me your name" he asked again but all he got where high pitch giggles coming through this mouth. So he stopped to let answer.

"Ihihi saihihid yohohohu fihihirst!!" he squawked. All Bakugou did was hum in response and he scittered his fingers on his tummy thinking that would be a good spot to target next. Hinata screeched and wiggled around like a fish out of water desperately trying to get away from those wiggling fingers. His hands were free but he couldn't seem to drag the other guys hands off of him and he was weakened from the tickles.

"Are you gonna answer?" he asked with a smug grin as his fingers dangerously got close to tickling his bellybutton and his laughter got panicky.

"Ohohok ohohok!! mihihiy nahahame ihihis HiNaTaaaahahaha!!!" he giggled hysterically.

"Hinata huh? I'm Katsuki, now where am I?"

"AhahahahAhaha!!" his eyes were squeezed shut and his nose all scrunched, and his body jolting with each ticklish touch. He seemed out if it and all he could do was laugh freely and try to struggle.

The short tempered hero sighed and stopped again to let him catch his breath listening to the titters still spilling out. Then setting his hands on his waist not moving just sitting there waiting for the next attack.

"N-nhhgg! H-hehey wahatch it!" he giggled.

"Hmm? Why?" he grinned. The smaller guy went silent squirming a bit and a nice pink hue was plastered on his cheeks. Bakugou chuckled and began lights wiggling his fingers into the sensitive flesh on his hips making the redhead toss his head back and forth trying to cope with the ticklish sensations. As he thought this was a bad spot so his kept his touches light which proved to be quiet effective.

"Ok I'm gonna ask for the last time where the heck am I?"

"Ehehe Ihihi-cahahan't!"

"Can't what?" he didn't get an answer so he just dug in and squeezed at the skin. And he was rewarded with booming laughter and alot of twisting and turning.

"W-WAIHIHIHIHIHIT!! N-NAHAHA! S-STAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT REHEHEHHALLY TIHIHICKLES!!!" he laughed hysterically trying to push the other off but couldn't find the strength to do so.

"So are you gonna tell me?" he asked once more while digging in and squeezing every ticklish part on his hips making him go mad. Now that he thought of it this guy really does remind him of Deku the two things they have in common is that they can really piss him off and they have the same tickle spot. Pulled out of his thoughts he heard vague speech through all his laughter.

"OHOHOK OHOHOK IHIHILL TEHEHELL YOHOHOHU!! JAHAHAST P-PLEHEHEHESE STAHAP!!!" he yelled.

With that Bakugou seized his attack and climbed off sitting next to him as he calmed down from the tickle onslaught. After he seemed to regain his breath he told him where he was but didn't know how to get him back.

"Uhhhgg great now what the hell do I do" he groaned. And if was on cue a portal opened up and both of them looked up and saw a figure come out. To Bakugou's surprise is was Deku!? Hinata saw a small guy with a cool hero suit on and green curly hair.

"Ah there you are Kacchan! Come on we have to get back to the school or Aizawa is gonna get mad" he said and took a glance at who was sitting next to him. Bakugou got up and dusted himself off.

"About time you came and how the heck did you even find me?" he asked.

"Oh that! Well while we were fighting that villain I saw you fell into a portal and I had to ask Hatsume for help after they were defeated, but anyway we should get going this portal won't stay open for ever"

"Alright let's get going, and by the way Deku this guy over there reminds me of you heh" he joked giving his hip a quick squeeze.

"E-ek! w-what do you mean by reminds you of me?? he squeaked.

And they both left going into the portal with Bakugou giving a small akward wave good-bye. Then they were gone and Hinata layed down trying to process what happened in the last hour. Maybe he should of took his friends up on their offer to help...

[anjuschiffer]

Coming In For A Diagnosis and Leaving With A Date

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theatreandcomicfreak!!!! Sure, we’ve only known each other for a few months, but Mina! You’re so freaking amazing and I’m so glad to have met you!

So to celebrate, I wrote this for you! Enjoy it! And hope you have a wonderful day :D

------

He was here to help Damian on taking down a small-time criminal, so why were they having such a hard time taking him down?

“Damian, are you sure that-” Garfield started, only to get interrupted by his friend.

“I’m going to be fine. Go and rest. I’ll be sure to update you on-” Static filled their communication, Garfield already fearing the worst. 

“Damian.” No response. “Damian!” Garfield yelled out, quickly coming to a halt, bearing the slight burn he got from the roof asphalt. Who cares if he was bleeding from his arm. Who cares if he couldn’t retain his form for any longer than five minutes. He had to go back! Damian was in danger-

“Well, look what we have here. A lost kitten.” Garfield quickly whipped his head to see Catwoman. Or Selina as Damian called her. Despite Selina and Bruce being together for several years, the two still wouldn’t get together, much to Damian’s annoyance. If you asked Garfield, Damian probably wanted her to officially be part of the family already, not that Damian already considered her as such.

“Please don’t do that.” Garfield said, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. All the hairs on his body relaxed, but his heart still raced quickly against his chest. “Do you know what’s going on?” Garfield watched as Selina hummed, looking over to where Damian was last heard from.

“He’s going to be fine, kid. He can handle this. And if anything, he’s got Bat out there as well.” She assured, looking at the gash across his arm. “You, on the other hand, won’t if you don’t get that treated.”

“I’m fine.” Garfield protested, wincing when Selina placed pressure on his wound.

“I beg to differ.” Selina said, quickly taking out her phone, a corner of her lips curving as she typed something, pocketing it away once she was down. “See that apartment over there?”

“Yeah?” Garfield looked over to where she was pointing, an apartment building just a block over. If Garfield squinted just a tiny bit, he was able to see a few plants sitting by the window ledge. “What about that-”

“Go there and wait inside.” Selina instructed, ushering him to go. “Someone will be there shortly to help you treat that wound of yours.” Garfield turned to go, but remained seated where he was. “I’ll make sure to update you on Damian’s whereabouts.”

Seeing as Selina wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Garfield made his way to the open apartment, carefully stepping over the plants, finding himself stepping onto a sofa. He promptly took off his shoes, not wanting to dirty the poor furniture anymore than what he had already done.

As he chose to sit, he took note of how organized -and white- the room was, the cabinets meticulously neat and labeled, his eyes widening when he saw the names on some of the glass jars. 

Naloxone, bacitracin, lidocaine… where did this person even get the first and last one?

As he tried to distract himself, Garfield thought it would be a good idea to look at the white board hung above one of the work stations, ignoring the various mortars filled with who-knows-what. 

He began to panic when he saw Damian’s medical records there, quickly running towards it to grab it, quickly turning page after page, panicking when he saw that this person also knew that Damian was Robin. 

Lifting his gaze from the papers, his eyes landed on the wall files, his eyes landing on the name Wayne. 

He began to rummage through, finding the rest of the Batfam’s identities, also finding other rogues' names in the other compartments. 

His heart stopped when he came across his own file, his name staring back at him in pink ink. 

Just as he was about to look at how much this person knew about him, the sound of keys jingling broke his determination. 

He quickly began to put the files back, making sure to place them in their proper slots, quickly hopping back into the sofa as he heard footsteps approach the room along with muffled talking. 

As soon as he managed to sit down and attempt to look normal, the door slid open. 

“-should have said no. Maybe I really am a pushover.” The person muttered, Garfield feeling his breath hitch. She was pretty. Very pretty.

The girl looked at him, gaping at his appearance before throwing her bag to the side and rushing out the room. 

Garfield felt hurt, wondering what she had thought when she saw him, only for it to all go away when she came back, gloves on and a first aid kit in hand. 

He thought she already looked pretty with her hair down, but she looked just as stunning with her hair tied into a loose bun. 

“How long have you been like this?” She asked, snapping Garfield from his trance.

“Half an hour?” Garfield tried to provide, watching as she cut off his sleeve, quick to start cleaning the outer rims of his wounds. 

“I’m guessing you were like this for a while before Miss Ky-Ca-” she started to fumble. 

“I know Miss Kyle is Catwoman. Don’t gotta worry about the whole ‘secret-identity’ thing with me.” Garfield said, watching the girl visibly relax, the girl going back to focusing on clearing the dry blood with a pair of tweezers and cotton swabs.

The two remained quiet, Garfield watching as she kept cleaning his wound, wincing when she started to add the stitches to his wound.

“Sorry.”

“You’re just doing your job.” Garfield had to bite his tongue to stop from hissing from the pain. “Actually, is this your job?”

“Kind of.” She replied, adding one last stitch. “I have experience on patching up small injuries and I used to study medicine under a mentor, but that was a while ago...” the girl trailed, Garfield picking up on how her mood quickly shifted. 

“Wow, these are the neatest stitches I’ve ever gotten! You have to be a pretty amazing sewer if they’re this neat. I bet you’d also be a pretty good designer!” Garfield praised, noticing a faint blush dust her face as she placed some ointment over the stitches. 

“Matter of fact, I am a designer.” The girl said, a soft smile now on her lips. “Miss Kyle commissioned me to make her a dress for the upcoming charity here in Gotham. Although, I ended up getting roped in some things I shouldn’t have.” 

“Accidentally found out her identity?” He watched the girl nod. 

“Yup. Well...that's a part of it.” She said, taking out some bandage. “And along the way I found out about her family’s, as you saw the files over there.”

“I-I didn’t see any files.“ He said, averting his eyes from her, feeling her gaze on him. “Okay. I did.” He admitted. “But why do you even have all of those medical records?”

“Curious, aren’t you?” Marinette purred, something inside of Garfield stirring. “Don’t blame you. It’s not everyday you find someone like me.”

“You mean a pretty girl like you?” Garfield teased, watching her almost drop the pair of scissors in her hand. “Which reminds me, what’s your name?”

“Wh-what? No!” Marinette squeaked out, trying her hardest to not wrap the bandage too tight. “I meant someone who helps vigilantes and heroes while being a civilian.” Garfield hummed at that, watching as she finished patching him up. “And Marinette. My name’s Marinette.” Marinette said, checking over her work. “And seems like you’re good to go.”

“That’s it?” Garfield said in a panic, not wanting to leave just yet. “Wow, didn’t think it’d be this fast.”

“Like I said,” Marinette said, pulling out Garfield’s file and jotting something down. “I have my share of experience when it comes to these types of things.” 

“Well then,” Garfield got up, one minute himself and the next as a cat on her desk, nudging her hand for some scratches. “Thank you very much.” 

He watched as red dusted her face again, giving him a few scritches under his chin, giggling when he let out a few purrs.

“Remember to come back tomorrow morning for the follow up.” Marinette reminded, watching as Garfield pounced to the window ledge, morphing back into his normal form. “Need to make sure it heals properly.”

“Will do doc!” Garfield said, stepping out into the fire escape, only to find Damian there. “Holy shi-” He was fine!

“What are you doing here?” Damian asked with a growl.

“Umm...getting my injuries checked?” Garfield defended, showing Damian his wrapped arm. “What about you?”

“Same thing.” Damian said as he motioned to his bruised face, quickly jumping into the window. Garfield quickly followed suit.

“Damian! Just look at you! What in kwami’s name were you up to?” Marinette scolded when she saw Damian, quickly going through her cabinets, grabbing different jars. “Oh! Hi Gar! Thought we agreed to see each other tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Damian asked, narrowing his eyes at Garfield, causing him to gulp. Why was he acting like this?

“A follow up Dami, no need to get so overprotective, geez.” Marinette clarified, making Damian face her. “If anything, I should be the overprotective one. I am older than you.” Garfield could only watch as the two bickered.

“By two years.” Damian stated, hissing when she placed an ice pack over his bruise. 

“Meaning I don’t need little brother dearest to be following me 24/7.” Marinette said with a hint of annoyance, lifting Damian’s face to get a better look at the cut under his chin. “Small scratch. Nothing too major, unlike the one on your torso.”

“Wait, brother? You guys are related?” Garfield asked, this question going ignored as the two siblings kept arguing. 

“It’s just a scratch.” 

Marinette was related to Damian… his sister...

“A scratch!? You’re still bleeding from it!”

Meaning she is a Wayne...and she had quite the overprotective family, and a large one at that… just look at Damian!

“Nothing that I can’t heal on my own.”

Just what is he getting himself into?

“That’s it.” Marinette huffed, pulling out her phone. “I’m calling Grandpere.” Garfield let out a laugh when he saw Damian stiffen.

“Mari, don’t you dare-”

“Alf? Yes, it's me. Listen, Damian doesn’t want to get himself checked, insisting that his injury-stop that!” Marinette yelled at Damian, who tried to grab the phone away from her, only for Garfield to get a hold of it.

“Hey!” “Logan, hand it over to me.” The siblings said simultaneously, only for Garfield to ignore the two.

“Hey Alfred, it’s me, Garfield. Yes, a cut on his torso that’s not too deep. Yes, I will tell him to let Mari to look at it or else there will be consequences.” He looked over at a betrayed Damian and a grinning Marinette who mouthed a thank you. “Yes, I’m fine as well Alfred. Oh! And if Miss Kyle is there, please tell her I said thank you. Right. Bye.” With that, Garfield hanged up, handing Marinette her phone back.

“I won’t forget this betrayal Logan.” Damian said, pouting as he sat back down on the sofa, Marinette already having her tool out to clean his wound.

“You’re very welcome.” Garfield said, grinning as he watched Damian fuss over his patch up.

------

“Thank you for having my back Garfield.” Marinette said as he followed Damian out the window.

Marinette was able to tend to Damian’s injuries with such grace that it left Garfield mesmerized, wondering how he didn’t feel the two hours pass by.

“It was nothing.” Garfield said, averting his gaze from her, scratching the back of his head as heat rose to his cheeks. That’s when he felt a peck on his cheek, turning to see Marinette smile at him.

“A token of my gratitude.” She reasoned, fiddling with her fingers as she watched Garfiled hover a hand over the place she kissed him. “Sorry if I made you uncom-”

“No, no, no!” Garfield started, finally touching the spot with his fingers. “I didn’t mind it.” He melted when she beamed, only for Damian to ruin their moment.

“Hurry up! I don’t have all night!” Damian yelled, causing Garfield to groan.

“So about tomorrow-” Mari started, only for Gar to cut her off.

“Come in the morning for the check up. Got it.” Garfield recited, lifting his right hand. “Promise to be here at 8 sharp.”

“Well, I was thinking if you’d like to join me for breakfast after the check up.” Gar broke into a smile. “Would you?”

“Definitely!” Gar said, “Consider it a date then.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he went to join Damian, looking forward to his breakfast date with Marinette.

Marinette watched as Garfield jumped away, going back to the file she had for him. Picking up her pink pen, she drew a small heart next to his name.

She can’t wait for tomorrow’s date, even if it meant that her stupid brothers might try to stop it.