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pa1nkill3r · 3 years

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"Now How Come I've Only Found Out About This Now?" [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x Fem!Artist!Reader

[Summary:] So far, George Weasley knows three things about his new potions partner; So why not make it four? Or five?

[Warnings:] use of mudblood, a bit of angst, a bit of swearing, a pov change at some point in the end, idk-- fluff?? (is that a warning??)

[Word Count:] ≈2.7k

[A/N:] i used @buckystrenchcoat 's fluff plots for george weasley: 2. George finding out you can draw (kind of got carried away but oh well :D--) (ps just imagine that classes in hogwarts includes all of the houses together, thanks <3) Y/H = your house. (dk the timeline or what year george and the reader are in but i'd say between 3rd-5th year)

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The Weasley twins were becoming reckless and apparently, Professor Snape has had enough. The constant explosions on the other side of the dungeon and the numerous attempts at drowning his hair with shampoo has eventually led him to the decision of assigning the entire class their partners.

Thus halfway into the semester, the Weasley twins are never to be seen together again... that is until the end of 2nd period where they will go back and cause mischief elsewhere.

Fred was assigned to a Slytherin girl who George couldn't figure out if she's madly in love with his brother or wants to rip out his guts. While he on the other hand was assigned with Y/N. Truthfully, he never gave much thought to her, but after their first double potions lesson as partners, he began to wonder why he never gave much thought to her.

She was smart but never overbearing, made jokes here and there, sniggered when he made even the cheesiest of puns, and is wicked attractive. Their first task was to brew a calming draught and whilst adding in a smidge more of lavender, she proposed that they should make more while the majority of the class was still struggling.

"Why in Merlin's beard are we going to make more? We can just pass this and leave class early?" He asked, bringing a smile to her lips. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you want, don't you Weasley?" She quipped, looking back up to the red-headed boy who's now readying their vials.

"Just thought that we could make some for people, like, your brother. Poor guy, reckon he's going to rip his hair out getting partnered with Tuttle." And with that, George let out a laugh, a laugh that cost Gryffindor 5 points. Though, all was well when they were the first to finish and send their little vial of calming draught into the hands of Severus Snape, garnering 5 points each and an opportunity to leave class 10 minutes early.

And that was it, that was their relationship; potions partners.

George Weasley learned 2 things that day. One, his potions partner was someone he wanted to know more, to be with more, and two, one should never put a liberal amount of peppermint in a calming draught. (Fred learned that the hard way.)

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She was the epitome of beauty and brains. So far, that's what he knew about his potions partner. But a little incident in the corridor made two into three.

It wasn't unusual for Fred and George Weasley to skip class, especially if the class was History of Magic. And it also wasn't unusual for them to hide behind a tapestry whilst a stinky dungbomb was set in the first-floor corridor.

What was unusual though, was George not wanting to move from their hiding place, forcing Fred to also not move. "George, mate, wha-?" "SHH!"

Whatever Fred's question was supposed to be, it quickly got answered by the presence of a certain someone whose walking to the Muggle Studies classroom, his brother's potions partner perhaps? Fred grinned mischievously, nudging his brother in the abdomen, and earning a wince.

"Oi mudblood! Was that you?" They heard from a distance, heavy footsteps following the girl he's teasing his brother with. From their point of view, they could tell that the girl stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily as though this was a regular thing.

"Was that me, what?" She asked, clearly annoyed. "Was that you who did it? Or d'you just shat yourself? It smells horrid. Would make sense, as you're a filthy little mudblood."

George's blood was beginning to boil, fingers formed into a fist, knuckles white. Especially when they got to see the silhouette of the two arguing. Perfect, Winnifred Tuttle, his brother's potions partner bullying his Y/N Y/L/N. He had an urge to protect her. To avenge her. To show her how much he cared for someone who's supposed to be his potions partner.

"Was that supposed to be an insult, Tutts?" Y/N spat back, pulling George out of his trance and making Fred shut his mouth. Now he's the one staring intently. "It's honestly just sad. A 'pureblood' like you should know the difference between a dungbomb and a piece of shit. Or perhaps you're probably just that daft?"

The boys were fixated on their conversation now. A hand on their mouths, hopefully covering up their shock even if they're hiding behind a tapestry. George's heart was beating faster now.

"Me? Daft? Well, if I'm daft then why are you taking muggle studies?" Tuttle sneered, an ugly grin splattered across her face.

"Bit hypocritical, isn't it, Winnie? Bye-bye!" She turned her back away from the Slytherin now, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom, holding a few books in one hand and her middle finger in the other.

He knows three things about her now; She's bewitching, she's a whizz, and she's a muggle-born who doesn't take shit.

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A few more lessons in and one could say that Y/N and George are starting to become friendlier to each other. Acquaintances, sure, but, friendly nonetheless. But the Gryffindor wanted to live up to its name, to its values. He might've just gotten to know a bit about her but he was completely and utterly entranced.

Nothing's going to stop him now.

His right hand held his wand as he stirred the concoction in the cauldron. She, on the other hand, was cutting up the stewed mandrake. The easy silence between them was broken by none other than the lion himself.

"Hey," he called, lifting his gaze from the potion to the girl right next to him. "Hi." She said back.

"So... Today's a Friday, right?"

She looked at him, confused, recounting a particular time in which she looked at a calendar today. "Yeah, I think so."

"And we can go to Hogsmeade after classes?"

"Pretty sure you can, why?"

"Want to go on a date?"

She looked stunned which kind of hurt George's ego but as soon as the slightly parted mouth of hers became a cheerful grin, he felt a whole lot better.

"As long as you stop staring at me and not over mix our potion, then sure, I'll go out with you." She smiled, making George give a shy little grin back before attempting to put all his concentration on the brew. Mind boggled on the way she said 'our potion.'

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Going to Muggle Studies felt utterly useless now that Y/N's been promised to go on a date right after. But having George by her side, walking her to the class just seemed to be the best part of the day.

He recounted the time when he and Fred hid behind a tapestry and told Y/N all about it, giving a hot feeling to her cheeks. They stopped by the door frame of the classroom, Professor Burbage was waiting inside, pacing around her study as George's hand slyly held Y/N's.

"I'll pick you up later?" He asked with the same shy smirk plastered on his face, cheeks pink and ears flushed. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me here. You shouldn't have." She uttered, heels rising and falling as she bounced on her toes.

"Just making sure that Tuttsy's not going to ruin your day, love." Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks and ears, as well as an uncontrollable grin. Her heel turned to make her face the concrete walls of the castle, hands covering their face and body slightly swaying from side to side. It was ridiculous, really. Dumb. Very.

"You're adorable when you're flustered."

"Shut up, Weasley." And with that, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him slightly startled, stunned, and very red in the face. "You're adorable when you're flustered." She quipped, walking into the Muggle Studies classroom and taking her seat.

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Muggle Studies felt oddly slow that day. Usually, it lasted an hour but today it felt like a century. Professor Burbage's talk about electricity and muggle technology went in one ear and out the other.

If you'd ask why Y/N chose a subject she already knew plenty about, her answer would be that she wanted to see things from a different perspective. But truthfully, she just knew that she'd be good at it and it'd be an easy O.

So there she was; A scrap piece of parchment laid on the wooden desk and a pen since Professor Burbage discouraged the use of quills.

Her mind wandered off the moment she sat down on her chair. Feet either bouncing up and down or stuck straight onto the floor, she wouldn't know. What she did remember was her non-dominant hand posing itself as the other one scribbled on the piece parchment.

Her fingers played with the hazy light and the ink added depth. Soon she started sketching other things; The student in front of her, a study of Professor Burbage, a head with a moderately strong jaw and beautiful, short, messy hair. A male side profile with a big nose that has a slight bump on its bridge matching a cheeky grin with dimples. Her hand posed itself once more but this time she wasn't making it look like hers, she was making it look like his. Something she's seen many times before, and guiltily stared at once, twice, more than she could recount.

She was adding in the cluster of freckles when the worst happened; "Miss Y/L/N, still with us?" Professor Burbage stood at the front of the class, standing straight, clearly thinking about her posture. "Miss Y/L/N?"

She felt an elbow nudge her arm, and that was the thing that brought her back into reality. Her head whipped itself to face her seatmate then to her Professor, giving her a funny-looking nervous grin.

"Charm would get you nowhere, Miss Y/L/N. When was the first electricity generator introduced in Britain? And where was it installed?" She has to have something in that brain of hers. It must've been taught sometime when she was in muggle school. "Err-- 1900s something, Surrey--?"

Professor Burbage meekly chuckled, "Nice try. 1881. Godalming, Surrey. A point from Y/H then, I'm sorry."

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George was faithful and stuck to his word. Even being 5 minutes early after asking Professor Grubbly-Plank if he could go to the bathroom and have a wee, saying that the unicorns would definitely mind if he pissed on their trees.

He did not go to the bathroom but instead went straight to the Muggle Studies classroom. Leaning the side of his body onto the wall by the door. Trying his best to peer into the room and find his potions partner and soon to be his date and maybe even his. But he was getting ahead of himself.

The bell rang and he heard a loud shuffling sound of chairs being pulled back. The door was opened as students from all of the houses started pouring out and there she was. Looking beautiful as ever with her bag slung on her shoulder.

"Glad to see you're alright there, dove." He cooed, earning once again another shy smile. "Anything happened there?" He asked, pointing to the now open classroom.

"Felt way longer than usual, and I lost a house point." She said matter of factly. George chuckled, his heart filled with pride as he turned his head towards her.

"And what have you done to lose said house point?"

She smiled before reaching her hand into a pocket of her robes, pulling out a folded piece of aged parchment before handing it to the curious redhead.

"What's this? A love letter?" He bantered. "Just open it." And so he did. His nimble fingers unfolding the parchment, then he was stunned. Seeing his face drawn in ink with lines crossing over more lines was the last thing he expected. It looked like him. And it didn't look like Fred. It is him.

"I was just drawing in class but then I sort of blanked out and got a dumb question wrong." She paused, looking back up to see if the redhead was still listening. "Hello? Earth to George?"

"You drew me?" He was on a fine line of disbelief and awe. It truly looked amazing. She drew her hand at least three times before he recognized his was also there. She even got the little freckle he had on the middle of his wrist. The full body of ol' Professor Burbage brought so much of her energy and even the way her scarf wrapped around her neck was perfect.

Her cheeks were heating up again, realizing what she just did. "It's not that good. Just-- drew what I saw and, err-- whatever came to mind, I guess." Bad execution, sloppy excuse. "Okay, you've been looking at that for way too long now--"

"This looks bloody brilliant! Now how come I've only found out about this now?"

"Flattery would get you nowhere, Weasley." She joked, but he was serious.

"S'not 'flattery' if I'm stating what's true! It's amazing, you're amazing." She felt her heartbeat increase by a mile.

"Well then, I'm flattered." She said, adjusting the strap of her bag to hopefully let out some adrenaline. "And to answer your question, it'd be terrifying if I just started drawing in Snape's class. I swear that man has eyes at the back of his head. That's why this is a new discovery for you."

"Fuck, this is amazing!" He uttered.

"It's really not that good--"

"'S'really not that good' Some shit standards you have there. I'd put this in a museum!" He said loudly, extending both his arms and imagining that the piece of parchment was displayed on the Hogwarts walls. "If you don't like it then I'll keep it." George joked, expecting disapproval, which, to his shock, never came.

"Are you actually giving this to me?"

She shrugged, "I mean if you'd like a photo of you drawn by a teenage girl then be my guest." He smiled, genuinely smiled. He looked so pretty at that moment and there shouldn't be any holding back now.

"...But," She started, his gaze looked intently at her, ready to listen to whatever comes next. "There's a price."

"Between Freddie and I, we have 26 galleons and a few sickles." He said, earning a hearty laugh and a shake of her head. "Don't really think he'd like me to give all of it to you, I'm sorry. If you want I'd pay a bit then I--"

"No, George." She said, tugging lightly on his tie to gain his attention. "How about... a kiss? Perhaps?"

He grinned. His hand hovered itself across her face before landing on her cheek, thumb gracing itself on its apples, slightly squishing the skin whilst his eyes looked for any signs of discomfort; there was none.

They slowly leaned in, eyes locked on lips before their lips locked onto each other. His lips were slightly chapped but it felt like the softest thing on Earth. He smelled of cinnamon, firewood, gunpowder, and other indescribable scents, but it was nice. It was short but meaningful, gentle, even. His other hand was wrapped around her waist and once again, his thumbs were running up and down whatever part of her body it's laid on.

He learned two more things about the girl that day; she's artistic, and she felt like home.

He never thought there'd be a time in his life where he'd be thankful for Severus Snape. But life goes in unexpected ways.

"If you'd like to tip me then I'm just going to say that I love cauldron cakes." She grinned up at him as they pulled away before settling her face in his chest. George chuckled to himself before wrapping his arms completely on her waist, placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He said, pulling away to let her shake herself up as he held onto the piece of folded parchment which graced his face, giving it a small peck before putting it in his pocket, patting it three times.

"Better sign that drawing for me, Y/N. How much does an autograph cost?"

"Double the original price—?"

"And the tip?"

"And the tip."

#george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #oml this is long

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mitsukui · 3 years

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put your lips like this | f.w.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader.

Summary: there is a secret buried inside your heart that is keeping you from going to the Yule Ball. However, Fred decides to be the greatest of friends and teach you one thing or two.

Word Count: 2.1k - oops...

Warnings: none! Just a whole lot of fluff! ✨ Oh, there is a curse word towards the ending.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS, BABIES! *aggressively listens to ‘My Boo’, by Usher and Alicia Keys*. Not to be dramatic, but James Phelps with long hair could punch me right in the face, and I would thank him. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention! ♡

Masterlist!

“You know I’m good at keeping secrets, so just tell me already! C’mon, tell me why you don’t want to go to the Yule Ball.”

A heavy and utterly annoyed sigh left your lips. Fred Weasley – that prick! – had been tormenting you the entire day. You knew he was a curious soul, but you had never imagined he would try so hard to make you spill one of your secrets out.

It was not something you fancied sharing; actually, it was something that made you feel rather pathetic and embarrassed. How could you tell your friend, whom you had unexpectedly developed feelings for, that you had never been kissed?

Curiosity and anticipation were emanating from his figure as he whispered soft ‘tell me’s, and moved anxiously on his chair. You fidgeted with the quill in your hand before you sighed once more. It did not seem like he was going to give up on solving that mystery any time soon. “Alright, fine. I will tell you. But only if you promise you will act as if nothing had ever happened.”

“Pinky promise!” He immediately dropped his own quill and extended his right hand towards you, his little finger waiting up to be intertwined with yours. Your eyes studied his hand, and you did not fail to notice how big and veiny they were.

Oh, Godric, the voice that took form of your consciousness echoed in your head, this boy is going to be the death of me.

Reluctantly, you closed your textbook and put your quill down on the wooden table, these two actions being followed by the connection between your fingers. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, the similarity to a little boy that he carried in his behavior causing you to chuckle. However, your good spirits soon vanished away when you came to the realization you now had to tell him the truth. You had never been good at lying, for all it mattered.

He beamed widely at you, and he had his ears ready to capture all the words that were about to slip from your lips. But nothing was coming out of them, and a slight impatience resulted in his eyebrows being furrowed together. Fred went back to whispering words to hurry you into opening up, and the situation just overwhelmed your inexperienced heart.

It was all too much: you could not bear with the fact that he was staring so intensely at you, nor with the fact that you were about to tell him you saw yourself as a ridiculously stupid teenager who had never felt a pair of lips brushing against their own.

“I don’t really know how to do the whole…kissing thing. And I refuse to go to the Yule Ball because of it, given that chances of being kissed by your date are high.”

Your confession came out as a train losing its track – fast, unruly and through gritted teeth. Although you were deeply ashamed of that part of you, his face expressed the total opposite of any of your feelings.

His eyebrows were still furrowed together, but now scoff dripped from his words. “Yeah, right. And George is more handsome than me.”

You could swear your heart skipped a beat at that moment. Blinking in the rawest surprise your body could internally gather, you stared at him and waited for him to say anything else. You were lost for words. How could he not believe you?

“I mean, you’re incredibly beautiful. And I know you have a few people interested in you.” When you raised an eyebrow at his latter words, he was quick to snap back at you. “I’ve noticed how that Ravenclaw boy looks at you.”

Even though there was an inconspicuous blush tainting your face due to his compliments, you waved his words off and laughed shyly. He probably was just acting nice towards you. That was a huge characteristic of the Weasley family – being raised by an amazing woman like Molly herself made such a thing come out naturally.

You remained quiet for a few moments, your heart beating fast in your chest and your eyes staring out the library windows. You still had a hard time believing you had just confessed your deepest secret to your love interest, but it was of no use crying over spilt milk. If he were one to keep his promises, one of your rare studying sessions with Fred Weasley would soon return to normal.

But what if he started pitying you for it? Or what if he stopped talking to you, once he concluded your universes did not collide? He surely was vastly experienced when it came down to kissing. Kissing Fred Weasley would probably be the biggest honor of your life.

Unconsciously, your eyes left the windows and roamed the surroundings until they reached his lips. It was almost as if the whole world had stopped.

Fred had thin lips, but they seemed to be astonishingly soft for someone who caused as much trouble as he did. His upper lip was subtly curved, and you were mesmerized by every single little detail you could visually grasp. That moment would haunt your thoughts for a long time, once it was pure cruelty how you had fallen out of love – the one you loved did not love you back.

But you were terribly wrong about that. Fred had been experiencing some shifts on his feelings towards you lately. He had watched you blossom into a charming young girl, and there was something about you hitting hard on his heart. And, frankly speaking, after he caught you looking at his lips, he would be in heaven if he ever got the chance to kiss you.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He helped you gather all of your belongings with a gentle smile hanging on his lips and, once more, you swore your heart was melting away over everything he did.

As you walked out of the library together, dipped in a somewhat agonizing silence, you felt his fingers brushing against yours, which caused you to instantly look at him. “Can I hold your hand while we walk?”

Holy moly, what did he just say? Your consciousness was again alarmed at the scenario taking place right in front of your eyes. Okay. Keep calm. Don’t freak out.

“Y-Yeah, I guess.”

He did not waste any time on ending the ridiculously small distance between your hands. However, he did not simply hold your hand in his; he intertwined your fingers together, and gave your hand a light squeeze. His eyes fell upon you, and his gorgeous smile grew wider. You could not help but smile along.

You continued on walking together in silence, the only tangible thing between you and Fred being the tiny circles his thumb drew on your skin. If it were possible to describe your feelings, one would choose the talk about fireworks, or waves violently crashing on rocks on a breathtaking beach.

He unquestionably would be the death of you.

He tugged on your hand once you stopped in a deserted hallway. There was something astounding about the fact that he was able to find a calm and quiet place on Hogwarts, but he had always been like a box full of surprises to you. And he was also really good at knowing all the best places in the castle.

You smiled at him, the riddle he was presenting filling your chest with amusement. “What are we doing here?” All of the terrors you felt earlier returned to you, and you felt like withdrawing. “Wait. We are not here so you can lecture me on kissing, right?! Because, if we are, I would very much like to lea-“

Fred abruptly shushed you, stepping closer to your body and gently pushing your back against a wall. His eyes darted up and down your face, and he grinned cunningly down at you. He was so much taller than you, and the sight of him towering over you was quite intimidating.

“I’m gonna be your kissing instructor.”

Bitch, said what?! Your eyes widened in shock, his fingers reached out to place a lock of hair behind your ear, and your biggest wish was to evaporate. With your head shaking vigorously, and your lips being pressed together in a disappearing line, you exclaimed you would never accept that.

You could never allow physical intimacy to destroy your friendship with Fred Weasley. It was better to have him as a friend than not having him at all.

He found your actions to be absolutely adorable, the desire to consume your innocence growing bigger and bigger each second. “I’m only trying to help you out, y’know. If that Ravenclaw boy is not willing to claim these luscious lips, I sure am.”

Your cheeks erupted in a dark red shade, and you looked away from him, unable to take it for any longer. He was now evidently playing with your feelings, and you did not know how to deal with his attitude.

You were torn apart between accepting his kiss and pushing him away. It could go two ways: you would either kiss him and dismiss all of your feelings and expectations, or you would fall even harder for him. You were not exactly leaning towards neither option.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.” He murmured his confession as he briefly dodged his eyes from your face as well. It was unusual to see the great Fred Weasley embarrassed but, apparently, it was happening right in your face. “So, please, let me be your first kiss. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Your gaze moved back to him and he also had a light pink flush on his cheeks. He looked painfully handsome at that moment, with his freckles splattered all over his skin, and his lips trembling slightly. Your eyes met, and both of you smiled timidly. You were swooning.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated your monosyllabic answer and nodded a bit, mostly to himself, assuring he would finally feel his lips on his. “I’m gonna put my hands on your hips now.”

And he did. Both of his hands ghosted over your body until they reached your hips. He pulled you a little bit closer to his chest, and his scent tickled your nose. You felt like electrical waves were rushing through your entire body, and you wondered how you had managed not to faint.

“Look, do what I’m doing.” Fred parted his lips slightly and tilted his head to his left side a bit, his eyelashes fluttering until he finally closed his eyes. He looked heavenly, but you could never admit that and put yourself into an even more vulnerable position.

An almost inaudible snicker rang in his ears, and he soon opened his eyes and looked at you. You confessed he looked quite silly like that, but he ignored your comment and ordered you to mimic him again. His voice was low and his warm breath hit your face gently. You finally obeyed, feeling all jittery and anxious.

You looked captivating in his eyes, and he was ready to show you how amazing a tad of intimacy could be.

He leaned down, bringing your lips together in an extremely slow brush against each other. “Put your lips like this.” And, a second time, you did as he told you to, copying all of his actions.

It did not take long for him to finally involve your uneasy lips with his own. He started out by giving small pecks onto your skin, but his hunger got too big and he demanded more.

Your small silhouette was pressed even harder to his body, and he touched your lower lip with his tongue, asking for permission to feel more of you. Your attempts to continue moving according to him went on, and you thought it was a good sign he had not stopped you yet.

Once the velvet-feeling of his tongue came in touch with yours, he groaned against your lips, which caused you to use both of your hands to hold onto his robes tightly.

The kiss went on for a few more moments until you and Fred were breathless, and you had to break away to learn how to cope with oxygen again.

It was difficult to find words to talk about whatever had just happened, but you mumbled a shy ‘thank you’, which he replied to with ‘don’t mention it’.

Kissing was not as horrible as you thought it would be.

And, after all, maybe going to the Yule Ball could be quite nice if you had enough luck to get Fred Weasley to be your date and kiss you again.

#fred weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #🌼 — personal: writings

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pretty-face-breaker · 3 years

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WIJ Prompt: Sleep

CW. creepy whumper, pet names, implied murder, blood stains, forced to get rid of evidence for a killer, past consensual torture, coercive relationship

@whumpmasinjuly

Timeline: A few months before Hayko escapes

— At its corner, the desk clock read 2:00 am.

The light of the lamp fell on his hand as he wrote, eyes skipping the document before he turned the page to give the pen a healthy shake. Then, it was from the top again with the court file number, judicial centre, applicant. Down until his hand hung off of the desk. He seemed to only breathe once a page.

He had been dealing with paperwork for the past few hours but for Hayko, filling in blanks was like second nature as riding a bike might be for someone. Just as they would know when to lift their hips for an oncoming bump, he knew where to push the nib hard enough that the ink wouldn’t swipe and smear the space. By muscle memory, he crossed every t and dotted each i but ensured, as each page filled up, to go back and check.

Two empty fruit bar wrappers sat near him beside an empty mug - all he had eaten since the single boiled egg and tea in the morning - which wasn’t his proudest meal plan but there was work to be done for next week. Crisis had struck. One of the cartel’s major benefactors was on trial for embezzlement.

He wanted to laugh.

Hayko sighed, letting the fountain pen click down before stretching up to the ceiling and then back. The exercise was useful when he needed a reminder that he had bones that weren’t made for crouching over a desk for hours at a time.

“Good morning.”

The seat almost toppled back as Hayko flinched and darted his eyes to the doorway of the other man’s room. “Jesus, you scared me, Nick.” He stood up quickly, fingers leaning on the desk for support when his head suddenly began to spin and his vision blacked out for a moment.

Looking at his figure in the doorway, they suddenly felt colder.

“Working late again, busy bee? You should be asleep.” Nick wasn’t moving from the doorway, just leaning on one shoulder and just out of the perimeter that the light would allow him to be seen. It was all too dark to tell, but Hayko felt like he was smiling.

He smiled nervously in response, dragging his hands closer to him. “Always.” They held a long look under the benevolent layer of darkness before Nick ripped it away by stepping forward, then again until the yellow light of the desk lamp crawled up to his face. When Hayko saw his face, he was silently surprised at having guessed correctly that he was smiling.

Then, he saw his shirt.

Nick must have noticed the immobile terror in his face because he chuckled. It rumbled in his ear, signalling a little involuntary shiver up the man’s back. “Don’t worry, doll. It’s not mine.”

His fingertips were chilled against the desk now as Hayko kept his eyes locked on the bloodstains, of which there were plenty, clotting near the buttons at the waist, splattered across his sleeves, and painting a grimly neat stripe up to his collar. The glaring light of the bulb brought out their faint redness but mostly, it looked like Nick had painted the shirt black.

“Th-... then whose?” He’d been meaning to ask. Hayko breaths mellowed as Nick began sliding off his watch and walking over. When it was off, he dropped it behind him with a thunk that made him blink. Right on the court order, too, he thought.

He should have been asleep by now. He should have gone to bed before he got home because then, he wouldn’t have to be dealing with him in the late hours. Nick was different at night, less human, and not in his humanity but his general appearance.

Nick’s hands travelled to his waistband and plucked the dress shirt from his pants, not hesitating to start immediately unbuttoning. For courtesy, he turned at an angle to the bed next to the desk, facing the headboard as he took off the stained shirt. His chest was splattered with fainter spots of blood. Those would be easier missed and Hayko was glad they were.

He finally found enough courage to bring his hands fully to his sides but not enough to look at him as he undressed, not out of disgust of the bloodstains but out of awkwardness. Never really figuring out where to look any time Nick undressed in front of him - although he probably would prefer it to be at him - Hayko let his eyes wander to the floor.

“Is that all you ate today?” Nick was looking at the empty wrappers and mug, skipping the pile of paperwork entirely in a way that made Hayko redden a little for the mess.

He anxiously scraped the tiny crack in the floorboard made by his chair. “Yeah, um... ‘didn’t have much time for much else.” While technically not true, he thought, it wasn’t that he had the appetite for anything more either. With the recent heat-wave that had overwhelmed the city, he could hardly remember to eat without Nick being the one to remind him. Like they were god damn married.

The man pulled his tie loose then swooped both off, tsking in disapproval as he hung them over his arm and faced Hayko. “You need to seriously take care of yourself, love,” he chided with a hint of warmth. “You have work, sure, but not eating?”

He found it harder to stare at the floor with Nick looking directly at him now. “Wasn’t hungry,” he mumbled, frustrated with the nagging while he stood there covered in a litre of fucking blood.

It seemed strange to him, even this far into this veil of a romantic relationship, that Nick insisted on playing concerned spouse and talking down to him in that voice thick with adoration. He hated it. But mostly, he hated how it tricked him every time, for a few moments, to believing that the concern was genuine.

That if Nick wanted to, he wouldn’t just break him in two for a quick, sadistic fix.

“What if I hire a chef, hm?” Hayko’s eyes travelled uneasily up to his, avoiding the body not out of embarrassment or modesty but the light bruising, the little scratches at his shoulders that indicated there had been a struggle.

He swallowed down the image of his victim clawing from below so he wouldn’t accidentally imagine his own face to fill in the blank.

“A nice one, family friend even, so you don’t starve yourself cooped up in my bedroom all day with your papers.”

“Your papers,” Hayko reminded him carefully. It was annoying when he couldn’t at least pretend to remember that he was his employer. But Nick just chuckled before handing him the shirt, tie draped over. His fingernails were black with blood.

“Do me a favour?”

The dried, metallic smell overwhelmed him and he swallowed as the scent lingered, reminding him of the uncharacteristically pleasant evening a few nights ago, how the stench had replaced the man’s sage cologne as he had looked over Hayko’s bare back. Looked over the cuts there and decided to open a few up again as he shivered and bit back whimpers.

He closed his eyes a moment, reliving the painful buzz his mind had been in, too clouded by chanting of more, more, more to say anything coherent until Nick had finished and planted a kiss on his neck and woken him up. Memories like those and how close they happened to each other sometimes made Hayko forget the nature of how he even got here but if he was honest in the moment, that one evening had...almost made it count.

Hayko gasped back to reality, snatching the shirt before Nick could snap at him. “Sure, yeah, I-I’ll throw it away.”

“Don’t throw it away, silly,” Nick interrupted as he turned to his bathroom. “Clean it. I like that shirt a lot, you know, you’ve seen me wear it to lots of those end-of-the-month parties Don Miguel likes to organize for us.”

Hayko seemed at a loss for just what to do with the bloodstained clothing in his hand when he noticed that it wasn’t just stained but bathed in life. The combination seemed heavier in his hand than any of his shirt’s ever had. He thought, with a stirring and morbid curiosity, just which of his fucked up methods Nick had used to squeeze the breath out of the-

“Did you hear me?”

He should have been asleep, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with this tonight.

“Nick-... I don’t think-” He stammered and motioned to the red cluster. “There’s too much… I don’t think I can, um, actually clean it with the amount of blood.” Waiting in silence for a response, Hayko unfolded the shirt by the shoulders, as if he hadn’t already seen the wreck. “Plus, a lot of it is dried. How long ago did you?...”

Sighing, Nick stopped and tilted his head. “You know I’ve got a couple of those enzyme detergents in the left cabinet of the other washroom. Multiple, actually, so fill up the sink and leave it.”

And with that, Nick nodded at him which was cue that it was time to stop asking questions.

When he stumbled through the living room, he noticed it was pitch black where Nick hadn’t even spared the bar lights to make his way to the bedroom. Only further proof that the man was a born predator, Hayko thought grimly.

He searched blindly for the light and squinted upon flicking it on. Nick may not have convinced him with the criticism of his diet but Hayko was starting to pay attention to the poor lighting he usually worked under.

The left cabinet revealed the detergents. Hayko took them out, one by one, and stacked them on the sink before opening the faucet. He took note to plug it before it filled up and shut the warm dial. The colder the better Nick had mentioned off-hand once on a night similar to this one, where Hayko had watched him scrubbing a shirt in the sink from the hallway, pretending the water wasn’t turning pink between his fingers.

He breathed once, the sharp smell of chemical piercing his nose, and sprinkled it in. The shirt went in next and then the tie and all he could do was stare at it, infatuated. He had watched a man come home from killing someone, taken his clothes, and stuck the evidence in heavy-duty detergent.

He was a fucking lawyer.

He didn’t sign up for this.

Where had the time gone for it to have gone this far, to be involved like this with a psychopath? Going from tied up in his god damn basement to playing boyfriend?

Sure, it had been a stupid mistake on his part but it was a mistake, all he had wanted was to live, and one verbal contract later, now watched blood merge with water.

The blood stained dress shirt stared back up at him disapprovingly. It probably thought he deserved it, Hayko thought faintly and the sudden rush of nausea almost made him double over and wretch into the sink.

The clock ate the time with ticks, and all Hayko did was stare at the shirt in the sink. Until he heard a rustle from behind. The man had probably finished washing up and just in time, too. “You should’ve been asleep.”

Nick was right, always right.

Tagging: @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome–hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp

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#whump #whump writing #creepy whumper #implied murder #blood #masochism #implied past torture #abusive relationship #wijday3 #prompt: sleep #captive whumpee #whumpmasinjuly #nick and hayko #captivity #psychological torture #wij21day3 #original fiction

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jaeminzie · 4 years

Text

opposites attract | l.jn

↳ lee jeno x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: soulmate!au where if your soulmate is listening to music then it’ll be stuck in your head until they stop listening to it. in this case, you and jeno have contrasting music tastes.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,503

warnings: slight mentions of vaping

a/n: also let’s pretend that jeno is at the age to be a freshman in college in this fic lmao

being a freshman in college, the workload was something jeno wasn’t used to so he chooses to deal with it in procrastination. well, tonight is the last day to turn in majority of his assignments that he’s been holding off on. so far, he’s gotten four papers turned in and he’s currently executing all his energy to finish his last paper of the night. though he’s too frustrated at the fact that his soulmate hasn’t stopped listening to music.

see, it started off alright. at the beginning of the night, the music was mellow and perfect for studying but, approximately two hours ago, the music changed to heavy emo music (which jeno loathed) and it’s been playing nonstop since then. now he’s left with one paper but he can’t seem to type as his fingers were too occupied on gripping his soft hair in frustration.

on the other hand, you were currently laying inside your dry bathtub peacefully listening to your tunes with your body relaxed and eyes closed, humming along to the music. apparently, this was the best way to past time that you could think of without interacting with anyone. your airpods were too loud to hear your sister banging on the door telling you to get out so she could shower. so you stayed there, bopping your head but abruptly jolted when louder music blared through your head interrupting your own little music sesh.

Shut up, just shut up, shut up

is that... is that black eyed peas? you paused your music to listen a bit clearer. but a couple seconds after you paused it, the music coming from your soulmate stopped as well. shrugging, you pressed play on your phone and continued listening to your own music in oblivion.

leaving jeno collapsing on his bed in defeat.

—

the following week, you were cruising around the town just so you can be out of the house. again, you were blasting your hardcore music which left jeno, who is currently on his nightly run to destress from his college student struggles, wondering if you never not listen to music. he’d think he’d be used to his soulmate’s music taste by now but he can’t help but worry over your differences in music. you’re also on the same boat. countless nights of you ranting about your soulmate’s hetero taste of music to your group chat whenever he’d listen to justin bieber and you’d be forced to listen to him as well. of course, your kind friends would clown you making you feel worse but they’ve been trying to convince you that music taste shouldn’t be a problem. but to you, it is. and apparently to jeno, it is as well.

jeno sighed in relief when he heard the music stop in his head. he halted his running to give himself a break and entered the nearest store to buy himself a bottle of water since he stupidly forgot to bring one with him.

the bells chimed when someone entered the store but you paid no attention to it as you were too focused on picking what flavor you wanted. though, you anxiously picked the first one you saw when you noticed you were taking too long and the person standing behind you was tapping their foot, running out of patience. you hurriedly paid for the item feeling bad for holding up the line. you kept your head lowered but you managed to get a glimpse of the person who was waiting behind you. you only saw his grey sweatpants and the imprint of his muscular arms behind his baggy white shirt. and damn, you froze in your footsteps and had to take a double look of his figure when you were fully behind him so he couldn’t see you shamelessly checking him out.

you stood there timidly as you clutched your puffbar in disbelief, not knowing how to act when you’re experiencing the presence of this beautiful stranger. you looked at him from top to bottom, trying to memorize the view of his back since you knew you’ll never see him again because you felt too coy to go up to him and make a move.

“goddamn,” you whispered under your breath and dragged yourself out of the 7/11 before the boy finishes paying. you were sulking during the quick walk to your car, and immediately opened your puffbar and took a hit once you were seated inside. resting your head on the steering wheel and letting the fruity flavored smoke seep out of your mouth, you reached your hand to the volume control and cranked it up in an attempt to distract yourself.

you looked up and tried to peep through the windows to get another glance of the pretty boy. he turned around almost immediately when you found his figure, but thankfully he didn’t see you slyly peeking at him with your phone in your hands. your fingers rapidly typed away, informing your group chat that you’re currently seeing the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. you examined his face with heart eyes from afar trying to engrave the image of his face with every single dot and line in your mind so you can remember it tomorrow and the day after, but you furrowed your eyebrows when you noticed the annoyed expression plastered onto his face that didn’t seem to leave, or even lessen slightly. sitting lowly in the driver’s seat and throwing your phone in the backseat, you still kept an eye on the boy but made sure you weren’t obvious at all. you watched him walk outside of the store, fascinated by the way he walked with so much confidence and grace.

but the second he stepped onto the cement and into the warm outdoor air, he abruptly stopped his movements.

did the music just get louder? jeno thought to himself, he skimmed through the gas station and the parking lot to find the source of the loud music. you immediately made yourself look busy as if you weren’t just watching every single movement of his body and admiring every crevice of his face a couple seconds ago.

you began to panic when he kept looking over to your direction but not directly at you. yet.

you lowered your music to make sure you don’t catch his attention since you weren’t mentally prepared to meet a pretty boy tonight, but you were unfortunate. you hastily tried to put your seatbelt on but your shaky hands couldn’t get the buckle inside to lock. “please please please plea-“

knocking on your car window interrupted your pleas. scrunching your nose out of habit, you slowly looked over to your left where the knocking was. and damn, you were not ready to see the man up close. all his features, the way his eyes glistened, the way some of his hair strands sticked to his sweaty forehead, how perfectly tinted his pink lips are, and how his small mole was splattered so close to his moon crescent shaped eye. so clear under the moonlight.

he stood timidly outside your car with his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants that you were previously drooling over. without thinking and processing what was happening, it’s like your finger has a mind of its own and pressed the button to lower the slightly tinted car window itself. “um were you listening to music?” his voice was hoarse due to the dryness caused by his run.

you didn’t trust yourself to speak knowing you’ll make the atmosphere even more awkward, so you simply just gulped and nodded with a small smile.

“can i... can i listen with you?” jeno didn’t know exactly what he was asking. he didn’t know if he was hearing correctly or it was just his imagination, but he could’ve sworn that he heard the same music that was booming in his head also in the car you were currently in.

you were perplexed. how weird but no complaints, you thought. “yeah.. why not..” your voice came out small which you mentally slapped herself for making your nervousness so evident. you cranked up the volume slightly, keeping your focus on your steering wheel so you weren’t able to see the change of expression on jeno’s face.

“can i come in?” his voice seemed more alive and less soft than before since he couldn’t contain his mixed feelings as he realized that he’s standing outside of his soulmate’s car.

without any hesitation, “yes.” you slapped your mouth with your hand immediately, not knowing why you just allowed a whole stranger inside your car. but if you were to die tonight because of this god-like man, it might be a better way to die than blandly dying in your sleep. and you always loved to have spice in your life. plus, you were not about to pass an opportunity to spend time with the boy, or you’d hate yourself forever for denying him.

jeno stood there baffled, not expecting you to agree rather quickly. nonetheless, he strutted his way towards the other side of the car and shyly sat beside you inside, not bothering to wear the seatbelt. you both wanted to groan due to the painful awkward silence surrounding your strained figures. you can’t help but notice how tensed jeno was sitting in your passenger seat, his hands fiddling on his bouncing knees and his back straight. jeno faced you, “can i play a song?”

you, in awe, nodded your head enchantedly while boring your eyes into him, admiring his appearance every millisecond that passed before he turns away from you and connects the aux cord to his phone. he increases the volume slightly and hovered his shaking thumb over his phone screen, slowly pressing play. you flinched when bieber’s voice boomed inside your head and in your car, replacing the melodies of your own favored music. you covered your ears and scrunched your face until the realization came to you, causing you to relax your facial expression and lower your hands down to your thighs. being in a state of shock, the first words to come out were “what the fuck?”

the still coy boy widened his eyes in panic, “am i not what you were expecting?”

you rapidly moved your head ‘no’ in eager disagreement as you took in the feeling of finally meeting your soulmate. and god, you couldn’t wait to assist him on his music choices. but at the moment, you didn’t mind hearing the pop singer’s voice stuck inside your head. in fact, you didn’t even focus on the horrid music that jeno was playing since all your attention was placed onto the beautiful man who would not stop staring at you so intensely sitting in your car at nearly ten p.m. “no, i’m very much satisfied.” the smallest smile appeared on your face which allowed jeno to relax slightly.

a wave of courage crashed into your body when you stopped the music shortly after, you made strong eye contact with him. jeno still sat in his seat stiffly as he watched your every move with soft eyes that contrasts with his harsh posture. you leaned in painfully slow, trying to see any discomfort in jeno’s face and body language but once you saw his body relax and his eyes longing for your lips, you couldn’t help but mold your lips together.

sucking in a bit of air, you were the first to move your lips taking small control. your lips kept moving and moving but it kept its slow pace, rubbing against each other so softly. you could taste his mint-flavored chapstick smeared on his lips which messily transferred onto yours as well, while jeno could taste your strawberry-flavored lips from the puffbar— feeling intoxicated by the kiss and wanting more.

the awkward atmosphere was long gone, and you two felt nothing but warmth and familiarity as you’ve finally found one another. you two have been connected by your minds before today, but now you’re finally able to connect with one another by the use of your lips tonight.

boldly, jeno easily lifted you up off of your seat and onto his lap like it was nothing. your heartbeat became unsteady when you gripped onto his arms and felt nothing but hard muscle, his hands placed safely on your waist caressing your side softly. everything about the kiss was so nourishing, it wasn’t aggressive whatsoever— both your lips were plump and the movements of your fingertips against each other’s goosebump-covered skins were delicate. you, being the first to pull away to catch a breath, were fascinated over how amazing jeno’s stamina was. you remained on his lap, as jeno rested his forehead onto your forehead and stared deeply into your dark but shining eyes, sighing contently not knowing what to say next.

thankfully, you said the first words. “you have really shitty taste in music.” earning a genuine laugh from jeno who was shaking his head slightly in disbelief with the most beautiful eye smile you’ve ever seen.

“me? i don’t know how you don’t get a headache everytime you listen to your music.”

you smiled big causing your eyes to crinkle up. your hand reached down for the seat’s lever and made the passenger seat recline all the way back resulting to you laying onto his chest. you gasped in a joking manner, “that isn’t nice.”

“hmm, you’re the one to talk. you just insulted my music taste.” his voice became softer, but you could still sense his smile through his voice. jeno’s hand began to comb through your soft hair while your fingertips traced the outlines of his veins popping out of his arms.

“i was just telling the truth, and being honest is the best thing a person can do, sooo..” continuing to nonchalantly draw random circles and lines on his arm, you looked up at him and you immediately made eye contact since his eyes were already set on you the entire time.

pulling your hair back slightly so he can get a better view of your slightly pink tinted face, he replied with, “then i’ll be honest.” his voice came out in almost a whisper, the corners of his bruised lips from all the kissing turned upwards. “you’re so beautiful.”

you scrunched your nose because although you tried so hard to cringe at his words, you couldn’t stop the butterflies swarming in your stomach and you couldn’t stop the idiot smile forming on your face. you looked away and rested your cheek back onto his chest, returning to trace his veins while his fingers went back to work combing your hair. there, the two of you laid in silence under the moonlight taking in your soulmate’s presence. thinking maybe you’d be able to tolerate each other’s music taste for a change, and find a common ground or two.

#nct #nct 2020 #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagine #nct dream scenario #nct fanfic #nct drabble #nct dream drabbles #lee jeno #jeno #jeno fanfic #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno drabbles #soulmate jeno

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rosiesared · 3 years

Text

time, mystical time, cuttin' me open then healin' me fine

a fic i wrote for @ladrienjune :D read on ao3:

Summary: Another letter. Each item was accompanied by a short message, handwritten in a font that was common yet simultaneously unique because it came from her.

In them he learned that she was an apprentice to a seamstress in the city, and the small shop where she spends most of her days was typically where she writes her messages, in short breaks interspersed throughout a laborious workday. Her favourite thing to eat was the pastries from the bakery across the road from where she lived, and that that was why the pages always had the aroma of macarons or croissants.

...

Or the time when, following the removal of Gabriel Agreste as king, his son, Prince Adrien, is locked away, in fear of him having been in on the plan, and a girl who goes by Ladybug tries to convince him that there are still people out there who love him.

(full work under the cut) @miraculousfanworks

... There it was again. Her insignia, woven in a bright crimson thread. A little ladybug, its wings spread, as if preparing to fly. As if preparing to take him far away from the prison that bound him.

Sometimes he would say that he was not fond of the fact that during his time in his cell, he was permitted free correspondence from people in the community. Some wrote saying they hated him, saying he was no better than his father, that he should’ve been executed just like the former. Some wrote to say that they still support his father’s rule, and that, if he permits, they are fully willing to break him out of prison and reinstate an Agreste monarchy.

But yet, there were the ‘good’ letters. The ones that felt like a flicker of sunshine brightening up the darkness that was his evenings. The ones that gave hope that not everyone in the kingdom saw him as a willing accomplice of his father. The ones that remembered his, albeit irregular, visits to the town, his meeting with the townsfolk, and the positive image he left on them.

The same visits his father made sure to stop as soon as he could, in favour of a marriage to a foreign princess.

Adrien rubbed his fingers along the red stitching, taking a few seconds to admire the intricacy of the ladybug’s wings, the detailed patterns encompassing the spots, each one special, each one unique, before slightly turning the black hat inside out, watching as a scrap of tea-stained paper fluttered down to the dirt-covered floor.

Another letter. Each item was accompanied by a short message, handwritten in a font that was common yet simultaneously unique because it came from her .

In them, he learned that she was an apprentice to a seamstress in the city, and the small shop where she spends most of her days was typically where she writes her messages, in short breaks interspersed throughout a laborious workday. Her favourite thing to eat was the pastries from the bakery across the road from where she lived, and that that was why the pages always had the aroma of macarons or croissants.

Even though he was never able to reply; the guards wouldn’t have permitted it; he greatly looked forward to her correspondence, wondering who was such a nice person to offer someone who was essentially a stranger handwritten words and gifts crafted by her own fingertips.

Sometimes, he even foolishly let himself imagine the possibility of the two of them meeting, and him being able to tell her how much happier he was because of her, and how grateful he is.

...

The gifts continued to come, even after what has to be at least a year into his incarceration. She had been getting more reckless, lately. Instead of the clothing items, she was leaving freshly made goods, which she promised were baked by her own hands, on the sill of the poor excuse for a window in his cell. Although he had to get, inventive, for a lack of a better word, in how he acquired such items, he drastically preferred her cookies to the stale bread or cold drink he got given each night.

Sometimes he thought he could hear a satisfied hum from outside as he ate his latest present, smiling as the taste of good food, something he had lived so long without, ran down his mouth like a stream, drying up far too fast for Adrien to salvage the feeling.

Still, the letters continued. She told him that her apprenticeship was about to end, and she, along with her family, was looking to buy a small storefront for her to start up her own place. She said this on a page filled with roughly-sketched flowers, a beauty in a way that was hardly ever found within the gaol walls.

She told him that, even though her parents weren’t forcing it too much, the topic of finding her a suitable partner has been brought up far too many times for her to count, and that she didn’t see much appeal in any of the young men hoping to court her. That, foolishly, she was holding hope out for an old friend to whisk her away.

A part of him- even though there was no way it was possible, a part of Adrien stupidly wished that the old friend was him.

...

One evening she left him a hand-drawn sketch. He immediately recognised the younger version of himself, all bright eyes filled with an innocent wonder life has dimmed with him, hair messed in the way it would get after his mother took him with her during her town visits. He remembered being allowed to play with some of the young children that lived under his father’s rule, and this photograph hoped to capture a moment from that. Next to him stood a young girl, her hair tied into pigtails, freckles obviously darkened by the summer sun splattered over her nose. He remembered her, the bakers’ daughter. She was one of his favourite people to play with, and he remembered thinking of her as a good friend.

Was this her way of telling him who she was?

Try as he might, he could not recall her name, however, the years following too much of a toll on his growing mind.

Behind them was what, if the drawing was coloured in, he would expect to be a luscious green garden. He could almost hear the soft gurgle of the Silver Stream behind him, its waters ebbing and flowing from its source on a peak near the palace, bringing prosperity to all the land with its path it touched.

Until his father exploited the connection it created, adding an extract from the leaves of nightshade plants to end the lives of all the kingdom’s livestock, forcing increased reliability on imports sanctioned by him. This was the start of a disastrous food shortage, and a merciless famine.

Remembering King Gabriel’s actions, Adrien felt his hold on the sketch tightening, squeezing, compressing, suffocating the memory, until, once he returned to himself, the picture and the happy memory it sought to encapture was no longer recognisable, the pencil marks blurred.

He didn’t look at it again that night, or for many nights following.

...

The gifts stopped for a while, Adrien would, just after the sun went down, look up to the little slit in the wall, or watch the guards making their evening rounds, hoping, praying, begging to someone who would listen that she hadn’t forgotten about him.

He could swear he heard someone walking outside, their body crashing through the bushes which lined the prison chamber walls, their voice muttering under their breath. One time he convinced himself he heard his name mixed in with it, but that was just wishful thinking, why would anyone come for him? It had been so long since he had last stepped foot outside, the wall which he began to tally the days on had overfilled long ago.

...

“Whatcha doin’ there, handsome?” A female voice rang out from beyond the slot.

“Who- who are you?” He asked, standing up and moving towards the wall.

“Some know me as “you,” others as my name, and even fewer as Ladybug.” The voice flew over his head as she rolled into the inner corridor, her face looking up at the bars.

Oh. So she’s even prettier in real life then.

Her hair was braided, two stems from either side of her head fusing together at the nape of her neck, in a style which he knew to have been in fashion over the past few years, and she was wearing a work dress traditionally associated with well-established seamstresses.

“Ladybug? So you’re the one who has been leaving me gifts all this time.”

“Well, yeah. But I was hoping you remembered me from more than just that.” Her eyes brightened, and she moved to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, stopping once she realised that her hands only met empty air. “But did you like them?”

“I love them.” He said earnestly, his cheeks warm, sure that she’d be able to see the pink on them were it not for the poor lighting of the complex.

“Wait, love? As in, the present tense?”

He moved to a corner of the room, peeling away an old jacket hastily thrown to reveal a pile of hats, scarves, jackets, gloves, and lots and lots of paper. “Yes, love. They were the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.” He turned back to her. “All the gifts I got back when I was in the palace because I was the prince couldn’t even begin to live up to what you’ve given me. I feel like your gifts, Ladybug, they came from the heart, and that means a lot more than you’ll ever know.”

She looked away then, her voice quieter. “They did. Come from the heart, I mean.”

“Really?” It was one thing to think it, but to have it confirmed was something else entirely.

“Mmhm.” She smiled at him, then. “We were friends, once.”

“Oh yeah! The drawing!” His mind flashed back to the events that had transpired the day he saw it. “I- may have destroyed it, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know a lot has happened since then. If you ever need someone to talk about it to or anything, I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, of course. Even though we haven’t properly spoken in a while, I know you’re a good person.” She locked eyes with him then, glare burning with passion. “You are not your father, you’re so much better than him, and don’t you dare let anyone convince you otherwise.”

It was then that he truly paid attention to her eyes, they were such a unique shade of blue, vivid and bright, captivating, they made him pay attention to her whenever she spoke.

Only one other person had eyes like that.

Her name rushed back into his brain, locking into place as if it had never slipped his mind.

Marinette. The daughter of Tom and Sabine, and one of his closest friends growing up.

Judging by the look on her face, she was aware of his realisation, and happy with it too.

“I wish I could break you out of here, it’s not fair to you that you’re being punished for a crime you didn’t commit.” She shook at the bars indiscreetly in between them, as if her strength alone was enough to reverse the decision of an entire proxy government.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve kinda given up all hope of magically being let out though.”

“I’ll tell you what: one day, I’ll come back with everything I need, and I’ll help you escape, and we’ll go live in the mountains together.”

“But, I can’t ask you to do that! It isn’t fair to you.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ll manage. Besides, this way, I’m keeping my promise to you.”

“Promise-.” Adrien was transported back to the palace gardens.

...

It was the annual festival, the day where Queen Emilie always invited all the local children to come onto castle grounds for a day. Adrien and Marinette were sitting in a corner, surrounded on all sides by leafy green hedges.

“Marinette, do you think we’ll always be friends?”

“Yeah, duh. And even if for some reason the world breaks us apart, I promise I will always try and find a way back to you.”

“And I promise I’ll do the same.”

...

“But- but we were kids then! I couldn’t possibly ask you to still hold yourself to that.”

“But I want to, Adrien, and I’ll always want to.” She lowers her head, pointedly watching her feet scuffing her shoes against the ground. “And, you’ve read my letters, right?” She peers at him through her lashes.

He turns away, hand on the back of his neck, fighting a blush that threatens to vividly bloom on his cheeks.

“Mmhm, I have.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a loud bell rang out, and Adrien could hear the footsteps of guards swapping over their shifts.

“And I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Marinette said, jerking upright and pivoting in the direction of the entrance she came through. “I hope to see you soon, Adrien.”

“Me too. And Marinette?”

She looked back, smiling.

“Thank you. For tonight, and the letters, and the presents, and just, everything.”

Nodding at him, she left, just as soundlessly as she had come, leaving Adrien clutching onto the promise of a better future, one with her by his side.

#cookie writes #ladrien june #ladrien june 2021

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blushnote · 4 years

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could u please do a sub vernon imagine where he asks to have his hands tied w silk to the headboard n u won’t stop edging him n hes just a whining whimpering mess begging to cum to the point where he’s calling you things like miss and mommy even though u didn’t ask him to

↳ requested | 2.3k words

↳ sub!hansol smut

a/n: thank you so much for your patience, anon! i really hope you enjoy it, and again, sorry for such a long wait ;w;

you couldn’t deny your surprise when hansol had interrupted your late night make-out on the couch, the skin of your lips tingling, bruised, as he made an interesting suggestion:

“i want you to tie my hands.”

he practically whispered it so that you wouldn’t hear the nerves in his throaty voice. you sat back, your thighs squeezing on each side of the boy’s waist, realizing that hansol was one-hundred percent serious and this fantasy was something he’d been ruminating over for a while. there had never exactly been much of a dominant-submissive dynamic in your relationship – the sex was just sex, and it was perfect. you seldom imagined hansol wanting to be dominated or tied down.

but that took a turn very quickly. the next evening (after purchasing some long, baby pink ropes of silk from the store) the boy’s wrists were woven above his head and fastened to the bedrail. as you stared down at him, examining his toned, pale chest, the veins subtly straining from his forearms while he experimentally tugged against the silk, you felt this overwhelming urge to ruin him.

in the best way possible of course.

you rose to your knees while he blinked up at you glassily. undoing the knot of your satin robe, the material slid off your shoulders, revealing to him the garnet, lace lingerie hugging your body and accentuating your shape in all the right places. considering that his hands would already be groping every inch of you, it was amusing to see the boy fumble and squirm.

after tossing away the robe, his eyes probed over your breasts and thighs, until you etched lower down hansol’s body and you were looking at his growing, flushed cock that twitched against his abdomen. he sucked in a sharp breath as your fingertips pulled in a featherlight touch along its side.

“are you going to be a good boy tonight, sollie?” you purred, your fingers ghosting back down.

“mmhm.” he mumbled, his eyes shining behind his black bangs.

shaking your head, you gave him a disapproving glance. “use your words, sweetheart. if you can’t answer properly then maybe i shouldn’t touch you at all.”

“n-no!” hansol yelped, lifting his head from the cushion. “i’ll be such a good boy, i promise.”

those words crackled straight to your heat. you adored his groans, always so deep and gritty, but when his voice trembled and turned into a desperate plead for the first time, you swore your heartbeat faltered. because he obeyed your order, you rewarded him, properly wrapping your soft hand around the boy’s cock, your thumb rubbing against his slit to make his fingers curl at the headboard. you then reached for the bottle of oil at the end of the bed, and hansol’s eyes shone.

he watched in quiet agony as you poured some onto your palm. the second your hand returned to his cock, hansol pressed his cheek into the pillow and whined through his teeth, his hips bucking upward as you stroked him slowly. the added slick to the oil was a magnificent sensation.

“does this feel nice, baby? hm? you like when i play with your pretty cock like this?” just to be a bit cruel, you started pumping him faster, occasionally rubbing your palm flat against his head.

it effectively stimulated him, for hansol’s chest arched from the sheets and he wrestled slightly against his silk ties. knowing how sensitive his head was, you held his length with your other hand and continued the rubbing motion of your palm. he was so sweet trying to hide his face.

“y-yeah, feels really g-good. please, more!” hansol whined into his pillow.

this level of responsiveness was something you had yet to see from him. he didn’t exactly speak much in bed, it was more heavy breaths, aggressive grunts, and the occasional curse hissed between his teeth. if you had of known that tying his hands and making him promise to be your good boy would reveal this whimpering, unbelievably sensitive side of him, then you might have proposed this idea yourself. however, you weren’t going to allow him to cum just yet.

instead, you completely removed your hands, leaving his cock to strain against his abdomen while small pearls of his cum dripped onto his skin. hansol mewled, his hips falling back to the mattress, cheeks rosy in his frustration and pleasure. you spent a minute massaging his thigh in order to appease the fact his orgasm had been unkindly forfeited.

“it won’t be as fun if i just let you cum, sollie.” you chuckled. “but if you keep behaving so well for me sweetheart, then i promise, i’ll make you feel good.”

at first, hansol didn’t respond, just bit his lip and shook the hair from his eyes. you leaned forward, taking his chin between your fingers where you forced him to look at you.

“and you are going to behave, aren’t you, baby boy?”

“yes,” he gulped, nodding his head, “i just want to make you happy.”

your heart warmed greatly, and you kissed the space between his brows. “i know you will, sollie.” you could tell he wanted to reach out in the moment, that he wanted to touch you more than anything, his wrists wriggling against the rose silk.

as you travelled back down the boy’s body, you made sure to suckle a few bruises against his chest and trace your fingertips over his nipples. the manner in which his breath hitched was immensely satisfying, especially when your tongue softly swirled over one of the pink buds, causing hansol’s cock to start repetitively twitching. by the time you were hovering at his length, you pumped him a bit until the light amount of oil had disappeared.

then, you pressed kisses up a prominent vein, hansol’s eyes watching your every movement until you reached his tip and drew a tentative, slow lick. his teeth dug into his lip and his head titled back, to which you could see his adam’s apple bobbing when you tongued against his leaking slit.

but he was allured to the scene unfolding between his thighs. he was watching you again, his jaw clenched as you began sinking down on his cock. your hand curled around the expanse that you couldn’t yet reach. hollowing your cheeks, you pulled upward, coating him in your saliva, a lewd sight that always rendered hansol unable to think. taking a steady breath through your nose and relaxing your throat, you sunk down once more.

you were able to move past your hand until nearly his whole cock was stuffed to the very back of your mouth. despite the accumulating drool and intense urge to cough back him out, you maintained the position and swallowed around him. hansol whimpered, his hips gently lifting in an attempt to fuck your throat, but a hand was pushing him down to the mattress. you started suckling, purring, pressing your tongue, searching for any type of vibration that would ensure his pleasure.

“ff-fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back against the pillow, “nngh—pl-please, please, please.”

hansol kept stammering the word like a broken record. one of his favourite weaknesses had always been deepthroating. it was something about how wet and warm the inside of your mouth was, how your tongue worked against him, the way you would moan with tears streaming down your cheeks just because you wanted to make him feel good. every time your air supply shortened, you would pull off his cock and take another breath, only to submerge a few seconds later.

you swallowed tightly around him again, and hansol couldn’t help himself. he planted his feet flat on the mattress and thrust up past your lips, so desperate to fuck your teary face and have his hot cum splatter your throat like ice cream. he was right on the edge, and you knew that. his cock was beginning to throb and his adamant, rough curses were a clear indicator. and yet, you didn’t allow him the satisfaction. as soon as you removed him from your mouth his hips withered on the bed.

“nn-no! was so fucking close!” he wailed, his cock bobbing against his stomach. “please mommy, i just want to cum!”

immediately, you froze. what did he say? did he actually call you that? the butterflies erupted in your lower tummy. hansol didn’t even seem to take note, too overwhelmed by his lost orgasm.

swallowing tautly, you drew circles to the boy’s thigh. “n-not yet, sweetheart.”

“but it hurts, miss,” hansol sniffled, his cheeks glossy, “it hurts so fucking bad.”

dragging your fingertips gently over his cock, you smiled, heat crawling up your face. nothing had ever sounded so attractive. you couldn’t deny how much you loved it. “does it now, sweetheart?”

“y-yes…” his hands withered against the headboard in complete desperation, though he seemed to realize he’d need to relax if he wanted more stimulation. “m’sorry… i just—”

“i know, baby,” you cooed sympathetically, “i know your pretty cock is aching and that you just want to cum.” you entertained his fantasy. “mommy is going to let you, alright? you have to be patient.”

hansol nodded. he really was trying his best to behave.

“i do think you deserve a reward.” you acknowledged, to which the boy’s face immediately perked.

standing on your knees, you straddled the boy’s lap and slid a hand over your stomach, until it cupped in between your thighs and you felt the heavy wetness that soaked through the lace. one hand pulled the material aside while the other streaked fingers between the folds and massaged your clit.

a low whine reverberated in hansol’s throat; his eyes completely blackened by lust as you touched yourself right before him. it was taking everything inside him to not rip from his silk bindings and pull you straight over his face, to bruise your hips as he pressed your pussy onto his tongue. he had a slight obsession with eating you out. when you plunged your fingers deep into your heat, your legs started trembling. hansol whimpered again. he hated that he wasn’t the one to make you shudder.

“does my good boy want to have a taste?” you hummed, pulling out your sopping, sticky fingers.

“yes, yes please,” hansol quickly spieled, “please, let me taste you, mommy. i’ll do anything.”

“open your mouth, baby.” you instructed.

exactly as he was told, hansol parted his lips and welcomed your digits into his mouth, where his tongue quickly lapped at your slick. he suckled intensely, his eyes fluttering shut as though it would permanently fuse your sweetness to his memory. the drool started gleaming around his lips as he hummed, so much calmer now that he had something in his mouth. you brushed the damp, black strands from his lashes, praising him for how well he’d cleaned your fingers.

“such a good baby boy,” you told him, cupping his cheek, “you’d do anything for mommy’s cum, wouldn’t you?”

hansol licked his lips, nodding immediately. “i only want to make you feel good, miss.”

“i want to make you feel good too, sollie.” you purred.

smirking, you held onto the boy’s neglected cock and positioned yourself above him. hansol’s chest was heaving as you pulled your underwear aside in order to drag the head of his length along your soft, wet flesh. he gritted his teeth, curled his fingers, felt the loud, broken moan rupture from his throat as you finally guided him into your opening. then, you were sinking down, your thighs shaking upon the magnitude of the stretch and how pleasurable the sting was.

you knew that he wouldn’t last long with you bouncing on his lap. at even the slightest swivel of your hips, hansol choked out a gasp and his arms were squirming. deep inside your heat, he was throbbing more than he ever had, and when you clenched around him experimentally, he started to sob.

“mommy, please! i’ve been s-such a good boy! please just let me cum, i-i can’t take it anymore.”

splaying your hands next to his hand, you rolled your hips, adoring how his face contorted.

“do you think you deserve it, baby?” you asked, though hansol only tried bucking into you.

suddenly, you began lifting yourself from his cock, and the boy burst, hot tears glimmering down his cheeks, rosy and wet, the black hair catching in his eyes, his whimpers full of lust, desperation.

“pl-please don’t! i’ll do whatever you want! i’ll beg for you mommy!”

kissing his forehead, you couldn’t help your fondness, “do you really want to cum that bad, sweetheart? do you want to be my good boy and cum inside of mommy?”

“yes!” hansol beamed, his hands straining against the pink ribbons, his gritty voice bubbling with excitement, “yes mommy, please! can i please cum inside you? i promise it’ll feel so good! i’ll make you feel so full mommy, i swear!” he pleaded unabashedly, his eyes bright.

there was no possible way you could continue denying his pleasure at that point. just as you anticipated, it didn’t take much for hansol to reach his orgasm. while you leaned over him, bouncing and swiveling in his lap, watching his eyes flutter shut when the euphoria became too overwhelming, he reached his climax. with a loud groan that cracked from his throat, hansol released deep inside you, his cock wildly throbbing, to which you could feel every pulse of his cum that filled your heat.

you were both breathing heavily in the afterglow, a thin sheen coating hansol’s body as he slowly began to soften inside you. his wrists had gone limp against the headboard, imprints of the silk ribbon carving red upon his milk skin. carefully, you untied him, and his hands immediately fell onto your thighs. he smiled at you in a complete haze while you removed the damp hairs from his eyes.

“since when did you have a mommy kink?” you chuckled quietly.

the boy’s face tinted pink, and he quickly covered his expression with his wrist. “i-i dunno,” he stumbled, slowly pulling his hand down his face, “it just… kinda happened one time when i was masturbating. and i couldn’t stop thinking about calling you that.”

“don’t worry, sollie,” you reassured him, patting his warm cheek, “i like it too.”

#seventeen smut #vernon smut #seventeen scenarios #vernon scenarios #hansol smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt fanfic

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barschter000 · 3 years

Text

FANGAN CHARACTER DESIGNS YO HOLLER

I have been encouraged to post some of my fangan peeps' appearances and I shall do so with gratitude

Baiko Omori - Ultimate Lucky Student

Fitting his talent, Baiko looks average. His skin is tan from working in the sun and under his clothes, he is built quite wiry. He has an oval face and clean skin. His slim lips are always curved into a mysterious, blank smile and has a small, straight nose; the rest of his facial features are hidden by his bangs. He has rectangular, attentive, deep and soft blue eyes that display his emotions very clearly.

Baiko wears a dark blue turtleneck sweater and a used-looking light brown trench coat with a stand-up collar and big buttons that reaches his knees. Latter belonged to his grandfather. The collar of the turtleneck conceals an old scar across his throat that was stretched as he grew. He wears straight dark brown suit pants and shiny brown business shoes. He also carries a golden pocketwatch around his neck.

Baiko has long, dark brown hair and his slightly-tousled bangs reach over his eyes and up to the middle of the bridge of his nose. His hair dips a little into the collar of his coat, then bends and continues outside of the collar until his waist. He has an ahoge which curls to a square with soft edges.

Ei Hagakure - Ultimate Ghost Whisperer

Ei is a tall and lanky girl. She has dark skin and in her underweight phases, her bone structure becomes visible. She has a long face with half-closed eyes that make her look smug. Ei has three earlobe piercings on each ear. There are a hanging golden star and moon, a glob of green goo, an eyeball, a cartoon ghost, dango-like puffy balls colored gradient purple and a button.

Ei has dark-brown, almost black, frizzly hair that she keeps in two big buns on her head. Strands are falling into her face and framing her jaw. Inside her two buns, she keeps the antennas of her gear. They extend when she is scared.

Ei wears a lab coat that she has dyed pink. The symbol of her university is printed on the coat's lapel. Under her coat, she wears a loose t-shirt with a light-blue and yellow batik design that is stuffed in her pants. Her sweatpants-like pants are dark purple with a sand-colored strap and (the area on the end of a sweatpants where it tightens around the leg).

Ei's ghost detection device hangs around her neck. It is a vintage lunchbox with a surreal motto on it. One side is filled with a monitor, the other with three speed-indicator-like displays and a foldable keyboard.

Etsuya Iwata - Ultimate Opera Singer

Etsuya has an average body build and a slim face. He wears make-up, dark lilac-blue eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. He also added an artificial beauty mark above his upper lip. Etsuya has brown, rectangular eyes, so dark that they seem black.

As for clothing, Etsuya wears a mix of costumes for his roles. He wears a white loose shirt which is stuffed inside a dark red long and wide skirt with a golden vine pattern. A golden, glittery matador jacket is draped over his shoulders. A tag saying “Prop for: Etsuya Iwata'' is attached to its collar. Additionally, he wears dark brown slippers.

He has blond hair and styles it to round, big curls into a ponytail. A rose is tucked behind his ear.

(Etsuya is kinda just entirely based on the opera "Carmen" aksjjs)

Hideaki Yukiyama - Ultimate Mathematician

Hideaki is a small, thin boy. He has a round face and big, circular bright green eyes. He has a button nose and is usually seen with a wide grin. Hideaki styles his red hair to part in the middle and stick to the side like a clown or an owl.

Hideaki’s daily attire consists of a button-up shirt that looks three sizes too big for his frame, shorts and mid-calf high socks. The shirt is half black and half white, the black part is made out of velvet and has arithmetic operators in all colors and sizes on them. A cheap squirting prank flower is attached to the collar. His socks are green and red striped. His shorts and shoes are part of the uniform of his boarding school, his shorts are therefore strictly gray and straight and his shoes neatly shiny black.

(tbh I'm not satisfied with Hideaki's design yet. His early design was way too bright and chaotic but this one is kinda.... too dark and gray when I imagine Hideaki? I can recolor the shirt in also green/red but I fear that that's too much on the eye??? Idk man I'm an absolute fashion disaster and so is Hideaki am9sjehe)

Ichini - Ultimate Robotics Engineer

To be honest, I have a vision of Ichini but I don't have details since I haven't really done much with robots before. What I know that Ichini is absolutely massive and mostly uses angled shapes. Xe is a robot from the neck down. Xe has square, bulging shoulders, thick arms and giant hands. Instead of feet, xe just has flat metal clumps. In general, xe is very unproportional, wide torso, slim hips, short legs, also considering that xir head is still human and way too small for the rest of xir body. Xir hair is jet black with a cyan stripe, it's styled into one giant spike or multiple spikes that stand up from the back of xir head.

Jun Nagao - Ultimate Escapologist

Jun is of nearly average build, just a little thinner and smaller. His complexion is sickly. He has a round face. Due to his facioplegia, his expression is always stern, almost annoyed. His thin, straight eyebrows, slim lips and empty, light-gray eyes play a role in that. His brown hair is shaven. At the back of his head is a bald spot where the weapon hit that knocked him unconscious.

(The same weapon (probably a bat, a pipe or a baton) caused his head injury that lead to the paralysis of his face. It was the first abduction incident.)

He wears a long-sleeve shirt which is a bit oversized and of a yellow that almost seems dirty. The sleeves end in black leather and have a leather strip with a small buckle attached to them. The leather ends are folded up as not to hinder Jun's hands. The sleeves can be fixated like a straitjacket like a belt on several points on his chest and back, the other straps lined up in two rows like trench coat buttons. The leather looks used.

His tight pants are black and gray striped, horizontally but swirling down his legs. They're held up by an old brown leather belt with metal-rimmed holes on the entirety of it. On each belt loop hangs a different type of lock. Jun wears a chain around his neck like a necklace. The keys hanging from the chain fit the locks on his hip. In between the keys, two bobby pins can also be found.

He wears clunky-looking black boots that reach a little over his ankle, so that the ends of his pant legs disappear in the shoe. The black and yellow shoelaces are tied strangely and differently on each boot.

Kaida Tsutsumi - Ultimate Stock Broker

Kaida is small for her age and has inherited the classic looks of her family: slim, blonde hair and semi-rimless glasses. Her hair is cropped short and parted to a formal side parting. Her clothes are very formal as well: She wears a full, dark green suit, a white shirt and a tie that is held in place by a silver tie pin.

(Hm, I feel like Kaida needs more details in her designs and I really don't know what since they gotta relate to her talent somewhat.)

Kyo Kido - Ultimate Horror Author

Kyo is tall but his bent posture decreases his height. Though he is lanky, he has broad shoulders that don't quite fit him.

Kyo has a long face with slim features and high cheekbones. There are dark circles from tiredness under his white eyes. His hair is straight and dark blue; one side of his head is shaven, the other grown out to his shoulder.

He wears very casual clothing, a black t-shirt with a grey skull on the breast pocket stuffed into black ripped jeans, and worn, dirty white sneakers. Over the t-shirt, he wears a blue checkered flannel shirt. The t-shirt and jeans have strange red stains on them.

(idk if I'll add that as "OfFicIaL" but I just had the most random thought, what if the stains were soup stains that didn't wash out and that's why he doesn't like soup kjwjeheehe, everyone is like "Oh my God, that's probably blood on his clothes, eek, that's so creepy!" and Kyo is just standing there with his soup stains)

Maxis von Läuterbach - Ultimate Knight

Maxis is tall and wiry, however, seems slender. Because they are half-German, half-Novoselic, their complexion is accordingly Caucasian. They have yellow eyes with slits which makes them look dragon-like. They also have a big hawk nose and slim lips. Their hair is of a rather dirty blond, reaches to their chin and is parted in the middle. A golden circlet is placed on their brow.

Maxis' outfit is inspired by German medieval fashion and is mostly in blue and green. They wear a light blue tunic with a damask pattern and a golden belt where they keep their sheathed sword, a long cape, tight leggins, and loose brown leather boots.

(For reference, I searched up some medieval clothing, found this and took inspiration from the guy with the green cape in the bottom right corner. Fun fact, that guy is labeled with "Fürst" which translates to "prince", so yeah even in their clothing, Maxis goes full "You have reached the house of unrecognized talent.")

Miyoko Iwata - Ultimate DJ

Miyoko dresses in loose, mostly white clothing that is splattered with neon green, blue, yellow and pink paint. Her outfit consists of an old jeans jacket, a loose top, and wide ripped pants. She has styled her white hair into many independent ponytails. Most of her face, meaning half of her forehead, her eyes, and half of her cheeks, are covered by her visor. It is a black display with a white rim that displays kaomoji-like eyes in correspondence to her current mood. She has brightly painted nails.

(Yeah, Miyoko just goes >o<. Also when she is so utterly disappointed by something that she doesn't even have words for it, I imagine her visor just displays "......" Also I may or may not have stolen that visor idea and design from Godot from Ace Attorney but yeah, I did.)

Rokuro Nakatani - Ultimate Fraud

Rokuro has a slim, femininely shaped body and a chiseled face. He has slick black hair, one strand is falling into his face. In the style of a true con man, he wears a black suit without a tie and a long coat with a fur collar over his shoulders. His eyes are colored like emeralds and there is always a smug smile on his thin lips. Rokuro wears elaborate earrings and a myriad of big rings with gemstones set in them.

Shiori Ishimaru-Owada - Ultimate Team Captain

Shiori is tall and is built athletically, so she has broad shoulders and is decently muscular. She has an angular face, round eyes and short bushy eyebrows. Her eye color is a sort of pinkish. She has thin faded cut scars on her entire face. Her hair is brown-blackish, sorta shaggy and tamed into the stump of a ponytail. Bangs still fall in her face.

Shiori is dressed according to her talent and mostly in the colors of her ice hockey team: blue and orange. She wears a training jacket with the name of her team on the front and her surname and her number, 11, on the back, orange sport shorts which expose her toned legs, blue sneakers and a simple white shirt.

In addition, she has an elastic sport bandage around her left ankle and blue boxing bandages around her wrists and palms.

Tamae Shiroma - Ultimate Whistleblower

Tamae is a small, chubby girl. She is snuggled into comfortable clothing: a dark blue hoodie, black sweatpants and sneakers. She mostly wears her hood up and under it, a baseball cap that she can pull into her face to hide it. Under her cap, some of her locks spring out onto her forehead. Her hair is dyed lightly purple and she has an undercut at whose sides the dye is fading and her natural hair color, black, is coming through. Most of her hair is hidden under her cap though.

She has a round face, a big nose and squinting ink-black eyes. Her eyebrows aren't dyed and bushy and slightly bent upwards.

#fanganronpa #fangan #fangan oc

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00thisandthat · 4 years

Text

Anything, Please!

the little puppy begs for painful pleasure and gets exactly what he wants (and a little extra).

contains: rope, a vibrator, begging, mommy kink, sub!jeno, dom!reader, petnames (baby boy, love, puppy etc.), slight choking, mentions of eating the reader out, praising, slight degrading

—

"come on, please?" jeno begs, tugging your sleeve and looking up at you, desperate for an answer.

"baby, im scared. we've never done anything like this before, you know?" you brush your hand through his soft, fluffy hair, your thumb landing on his cheek, carressing it softly.

"i know but i could always tell if its too much. just, please," he presses his forehead on your arm. "please, i need something," his breath shakes. "a-a vibe or a-a spank, just something, please, mommy..." the last word came out as a whisper.

you two have always been quite sexually active. but you never dared to go anywhere further than your shared mommy kink.

you do love the idea of a breathy, sweaty, blushy jeno, strapped to a chair, legs spread wide, showing off his glory, shaking due to the vibrator attached to his dick. his abs contracting, his jaw hanging open and his hisses. bringing him to his limits until he cries and begs for permission to cum.

you're just scared to hurt him. jeno's a sweet boy, he would never try to have your feelings hurt. he'd try to endure the harsh edging you're into just for you to be happy.

"mommy," he whines "please, i'll be okay. i promise i'll tell you if its too much. i-if you don't want to be too rough, it's okay, i just want a little challenge."

you sigh, instilling your trust in him. "you promise okay?"

he nods. "promise, mommy."

you first start planning, scanning the room to find anything you can possibly tie, fuck or spank him on. and then your eyes land on his desk chair. yeah, he'd look real nice with his legs spread open and cumming nonstop.

"okay, i have an idea." you hold his hand, standing up from the bed and leading him to his chair. he follows behind like a little boy in a shopping center. he sits obediently, fingers fiddling with each other, eager for your next move. "stay right here, got it?"

"yes, mommy." he smiles.

you turn your back and head towards your closet. you've never told him about your collection of sex toys, so when you do get them, they end up hidden underneath your stacked clothes. you feel the rough texture of the bdsm rope you ordered a month ago and pull it out. you also pick up a small, pink vibrator to match his adorable build.

you meet him back in the bedroom, sitting straight like an obedient puppy.

"did you do anything while i was gone?" you ask, untying the cord holding the coiled rope together.

"nope, none." he says, proudly.

"good boy." the peachy blush spreads across his cheeks. i wonder if it'll be as pretty on his ass.

"okay, i'm gonna tie you to the chair, arms and ankles and you're going to be the goodiest boy for me when i play with the vibrator i'm gonna attach to your dick, is that okay, sweetheart?"

"yes, mommy. very okay actually..."

you walk behind him, kneeling down and tying his hands to the wooden post on both sides. you continue by also tying his ankles on to the corresponding posts.

you pick yourself up from the carpet, in awe of the art in front of you. who knew such a big man would look so little in front of you?

"you know, jeno, red suits you well." you climb onto his lap, sitting still with your arms wrapped around his neck.

"thank you, mommy." he smiles. the way his eyes curve into little moons make your stomach crazy.

your eyes travel from his lips, to his chest and down to the growing bulge below you. you bring your hand on top of the tent, palming it with applied pressure. you earn a groan from the pup, bucking up to fuck your hand faster like a slut. you slap his dick, which was followed by a hiss mixed with a high pitched whimper.

"baby boy, don't be doing things i don't allow you to do. you wouldn't want to be bent over and teased, would you?" you said lowly, your lips just inches away from his burning red ear.

"y-yes, i'm sorry mommy."

"is it feeling okay?" you whisper.

"mhm."

you decide to slide your hands inside his shorts and pull his delicates out of its cloth shell. it was very stiff, veins angry, needing to just cum all over your hand.

you spit on his dick, glancing up at him when it finally fell on the tip. he exhales the moment the warmth spread to the rest of the head. you get to work, your hand rubbing just the head, not even warming up to get faster. just straight up abusing his beautiful delicates.

the needy puppy buries his face in your neck, staining it with his warm pants. you feel his thighs squirm and twitch right under you.

"f-fuck, please spit on it more, please, mommy?" his hand lands on your thigh, squeezing it.

"since you asked so nicely." you kissed his forehead. you spit once more onto his throbbing dick. he throws his head back when you press the warm saliva on the tip. when you remove your thumb, precum begins to leak out his slit, coating the head with a thin white film.

"looks like you're gonna cum soon, darling."

"y-yeah, i'm really close." he manages to speak.

jeno's face had sweat dripping from his forehead down to his neck, the tips of his hair soaked. his chest contracting from the orgasm that's slowly building up. his dick, red and throbbing. it's honestly breathtaking, you could just choke him and ride him and mark his neck and his chest. that's for another time though.

you had other plans. you can't just let him cum easily. it's no fun. and jeno doesn't like that.

you take your hand off of his dick and reach for the pink vibe that sat on the carpet, waiting for you to use it. jeno snaps out of his dazed state and questions why you stopped. "u-um, is that a vibrator?"

"mhm." you turn the dial and the first setting looks and sounds promising.

you press it on one side of his dick. he jolts from the immense pleasure and moans loudly. he bites down on his lip, repressing the moans.

you notice the muffled sounds and decided to dial it up a little to further stimulate him. he's forced to moan like the little slut he is, enjoying the vibrations roaming around his dick. "i'm sorry love, but you can't hold your precious moans back, you wouldn't want to get punished now, would you?"

he heaves. "n-no, i'm good, i-i'm a good boy. please don't punish me." his hands switched from being wide open and balled into fist. his legs shaking from the sensation his orgasm brings.

you feel a warm and sticky fluid slowly coat your fingers. the tip was oozing with precum, oozing more than before and almost a pure white. "m-mommy...ah..."

"hm?"

"can i please cum now? please, please? i-i really need to," he hisses. "i really can't hold it back anymore~"

you imagine the messy and sweaty state he'd be in after he cums. his eyes rolled back, panting, sweat covering his sculpted chest and cum splattered all over his thighs and coating his now glossy dick. your daydreaming is interrupted when he begs once more. "mommy~ please! i need to cum now, please please please please."

you push your hand onto his neck, squeezing lightly to create a little tension. you lean towards him, looking down at his pleading eyes. "then cum. you're going to cum lots for me, aren't you?"

he nods, he hums, he "yes, yes! i promise, i will!" speaks.

you stimulate him further, jerking him off ass well. tears start rolling down his soft cheeks. his moans escalate a note each second until he reaches his high and you feel his warm cum explode all over your hand and wrist.

you look down in awe at the mess he's made, his cum still leaking out bit by bit. "what a messy little boy you are~" you giggle.

"you...y-you told me to make a mess."

"it's okay. i like it." you swatch some cum on your pointer finger and slid it inside his mouth. his puffy lips looked pretty resting on your finger.

"taste good?"

he hummed.

"i sure hope i get to taste you soon." he mumbles.

"why wait?"

his eyes glisten.

#yes this is way overdue #im so sorry #but i hope its still good #sub!jeno #sub!jeno smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #sub!nct #sub!nct dream #nct dream #nct #smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #dom!reader

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

TRUE COLORS ~ Ch. 5

You want to start the series? Masterlist

Pairing: DBH!Connor x OC!Maya

Words: 1.159

Warning: processing the suicide (Stratford Tower scene)

"There is a visitor waiting at the door.", the mechanically female voice stated. Maya frowned, she expected no one but she imagined who it could be. She put her brush aside and opened the door moments later. First, she was happy then, it changed into shock.

"Connor, hey- wait! What's the matter?", she asked concerned as she saw the android's face. There was blue blood splattered on the right side of his chest and spread on his jacket.

"Can...can we talk?", Connor asked low and looked through his lashes hopefully at Maya.

"Sure! Of course, come in!", Maya hurried to answer and stepped aside. She closed the door and followed Connor into the living room. From the corner of his eyes, Connor noticed a new painting on the canvas stand. It was the continued sketch he had seen on the desk the night before. Now, more outlines were to be seen and the first greyish-blue color was added on the lower half of the painting but Connor still had no idea what it would be.

"Come, sit down, please.", Maya said and caught his attention again. Like the day before, they sat on the couch side by side but this time, Maya was closer to Connor to build more privacy between them. Out of instinct, she reached out for his arm and placed her hand there.

Connor stayed silent for a while but she saw that he was troubled. She saw his LED constantly flickering yellow.

"What happened to you?", she asked carefully. Even her soft voice seemed to have startled him. She worried that something worse might have happened.

"Are you shot, Connor?", Maya asked, concerned as the android stayed silent. He looked down, noticed the blue blood and the bullet hole in his jacket and realized why Maya was worried about him. She sounded like Hank earlier.

"I’m alright. It’s nothing serious.", he said matter of factly. Maya took a breath to calm herself but she was still worried.

"But you got shot? Connor! Come on, please, talk to me. Tell me what happened. I'm worrying about you.", she admitted low but desperately.

"You're worried?", he asked surprised and finally, he looked into her eyes.

"Of course! Connor, you're injured!", Maya said frustrated. His soft brown eyes were just trained on her and he reacted as he saw her glance.

"I- I got shot. By a deviant. The Stratford Tower. Markus and his message. They jumped-"

"Whoa, slow down. I can't follow you.", Maya said and Connor stopped with his rambling.

"Step by step. I saw the Stratford Tower in the news. You were there? With Hank?", Maya asked and Connor nodded. Slowly, he calmed down and she felt how the android relaxed. His erratic yellow LED slowed down a bit.

"Hank and I arrived at the scene and we started with our work. Even the FBI was there. I analyzed the scene as usual. The deviants had been jumping from the roof with parachutes to escape but...one of them was left behind.", Connor made a break. His LED was spinning again and Maya expected to come to the tricky part now.

"It hid in a locker. As I opened the door, it shot me and Hank dragged me into a safe spot but the SWAT team was about to kill it. I... I couldn't take the risk to lose information so I left the hiding spot and ran towards the shooting deviant. I could dodge the bullets and grabbed its arm.", Connor told what happened, still a bit too fast but Maya was able to follow.

"What happened then?", Maya asked carefully. The LED was glowing red as the memories came back into Connor's mind. Suddenly, he wasn't looking like an android, rather he looked like a scared kid. Maya slid her hand down his arm to reach his hand. Connor watched how she interlaced her fingers with his own. It was a reassuring touch and Connor noticed that he liked the feeling of her skin against his own. She was warm and soft and just this small move calmed him. This touch calmed him more than the memories about her earlier in the elevator.

"The... deviant killed itself as I was connected to its memory. I- I felt it dying. Like I was dying.", he repeated his impression and made a pause to look at Maya, "I was scared.", he whispered. Maya squeezed his hand carefully to show him that he wasn't alone.

"Hey, it's okay to be scared."

"No! It isn't! You don't understand. The emotion wasn't part of my program to protect myself from danger. I... I really was feeling it as if I would have been dying.", he said and Maya understood slowly. For him, the prototype, the deviant hunter sent by CyberLife, it must be stressful to develop emotions. And it wasn't just any emotion: the fear to die was one strong emotion even for humans and Maya just could imagine how overwhelmed Connor must have felt.

Once again, she squeezed his hand and drew small circles on his skin with her thumb. The silence wasn't uncomfortable even as it stayed like this for awhile. Maya snuggled her head against his shoulder and for the first time, Connor snuggled back as he placed his head on top of Maya's. He smelled her scent and shampoo: a mixture of sweet strawberries and lovely flowers.

"It feared to die but it pulled the trigger nevertheless.", Connor whispered, still processing the whole thing. Maya raised her head to look at him again.

“I’m so sorry you had to experience this. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you.”

"You're the first who is just nice to me.", Connor stated with a soft smile.

"Oh, but...there is no reason to treat you other than nice. You deserve that like everyone else.", she answered smiling. Connor watched her. His LED had calmed down back to a soft blue. Maya knew that Connor couldn't understand that but he looked at her in a way that butterflies were dancing Tango in her stomach.

"Thanks for helping me.", he said low with a soft smile. The smile fastened her heartbeat because it was the sweetest and purest she had ever seen.

"Of course. Consider me as your friend and friends help each other."

"Do friends do this?", he asked and raised their folded hands slightly without letting go of her. Maya's cheeks turned pink and she tried to wiggle out of the holding but Connor kept her hand in his own even stronger.

"Oh..uhm.. yeah. To show support or...affection.", she explained low. Connor smiled and copied the way she had stroked his skin before. He drew small circles on the back of her hand.

"I like that.", Connor said smiling and this time, Maya was the one who relaxed. She leant back against his shoulder and together, they watched the night spreading over Detroit.

#dbh connor #dbh #connor dbh #dbh connor fluff #dbh connor x reader #detroit connor #detroit become human aesthetic #detroit become human connor #writing #fanfiction #fandom

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Tiny Terror

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso

Hi, all! Here's my entry for @bnhabookclub's Bingo Event for the prompt "Adopt a Pet"! Hope you all enjoy some cute Shinso fluff~

Hitoshi scowled when pounding rain, not pleasant sunshine, greeted him as he strolled through the glass doors of the convenience store. The small fabric awning shielded him from most of the onslaught, but the sheer volume of water falling from the sky was inescapable; the canvas overhead bulged with pooling rainwater, and a sheet of fat droplets cascaded from its edge. The force of the drops propelled them inward, leading them to splatter over the soft cloth of his white tee-shirt. Beyond the waterfall streaming from the awning, puddles blossomed in the streets, rippling with the continuous rainfall.

When on Earth did this storm blow in? he wondered with a weary sigh. He tossed the plastic bag of canned coffees and mochi snacks over his shoulder while using his other hand to scratch the tufts of his lavender hair thoughtfully. The weather report hadn't predicted a rainstorm, so Hitoshi had neglected to bring an umbrella. It wasn't a terribly long walk back to the U.A. dorms, but in this deluge, he would be drenched within ten seconds. He pouted up at the cloud-choked sky. There's nothing for it. I'll have to wait it out, he decided. He walked to the large glass window and eased himself down on the sill, pushing aside a small flowerpot of violets to make himself comfortable, then pulled out his phone to scroll through his social media feed.

"Bah," he mumbled. Ninety percent of the posts refused to load. The convenience store wasn't a dead zone, so he surmised that the torrential downpour deadened the signal. He closed out of the app and shoved his phone into his back pocket, then disinterestedly stared out into the street. Despite the storm, people were still strolling out and about. The air thrummed with splashing water and the smacking of raindrops against the rubber umbrellas. Occasionally a car would zoom by and throw up an impressive arc of the dirty rain puddles, sending it washing over the sidewalk like a great wave. When the car was going fast enough, the sloshing water would kiss the tips of Hitoshi's Converse.

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow as a little mew drifted into his ears. The lavender-haired boy searched for the source of the sound, but there was no animal in sight. He began to wonder if he had imagined it until another tiny meow floated out of the alleyway on the side of the building. Hitoshi eased off of the windowsill to creep along the brick wall, not wishing to startle whatever little creature was voicing its opposition to the pounding rain. His eyes widened, and he blinked confusedly when all that greeted him was a big green dumpster and some sodden flyers that had blown in from the street. Just as he was about to turn around and resume his perch, the mew sounded again. He glanced down at his feet.

"Oh. Well, hello there." The sodden white kitten toddled on its unsteady legs to paw at the equally white front of his shoes, then raised its bobbling head to meow curiously at him. Hitoshi grinned and squatted down to observe the wee creature. It was incredibly small, most likely too young to survive without its mother. "Where's your mom, little one?" The kitten responded with another miserable mew. "Gone, huh?" He concluded and peered down the empty alleyway. He spotted no mass of fur, nor any nook or cranny a mother cat could hide. "Unless some cruel person dumped you here," he muttered angrily under his breath.

Hitoshi glanced down when the stumbly kitten thumped its head against the hem of his jeans, leaving a circle of dark blue smudged with brown behind. The water streaming down the small incline of the alleyway crashed against the kitten's stubby thin legs, making it stagger and wobble in the current. It whined and jumped on its back two legs to sink its tiny, needle-like claws into the jean fabric and steady itself in the speedy flow. Hitoshi chuckled and gently rubbed its wet tummy, displacing the clumpy sodden fur. "Whatever the case, you're a long way from home, huh?" The kitten meowed sadly.

"First things first, let's get you outta this rain," Hitoshi smiled and plucked the kitten up by the scruff to cup it in his palm. The corner of the awning shielded them some, but the ferocity of the pounding rain and bubbling current from the overflow dampened them both. Hitoshi kicked his feet annoyedly when he realized his socks were soaked through with the dirty water, and similarly, the kitten shook itself. Hitoshi smirked as tiny little water droplets spattered down his front, leaving coffee-brown dirt stains behind. "You little asshole," he laughed and used his index finger to scratch it under the chin. The baby cat began to rumble with a thundering purr and tilted it's head back so Hitoshi could pet all along the column of its throat.

Hitoshi cupped the cat to his chest and returned to his perch on the windowsill. Now subject to the breezy wind, the little thing was beginning to shiver terribly. Hitoshi shrugged off his jacket and set the kitten down on his lap to wrap the thick cloth around its body several times. The kitten's head poked above the mound of material, sniffing the dark fabric with its small pink nose. "What do I smell like? Coffee? Mochi? Exhaustion?" He joked. The kitten meowed matter-of-factly and gripped the metal zipper in its pin-needle teeth, tugging on it fiercely and growling. "What a tiny little terror you are. First, you splash me, and now you try to destroy my jacket after I'm kind enough to give it to you." The cat stopped yanking on the metal piece and blinked up at him with big blue eyes. "Yeah, little man, I'm talking to you."

The cat went back to terrorizing his jacket zipper.

Ignoring the squirming cat warming up on his lap, Hitoshi glanced out at the street. The rain was letting up; it was dripping more slowly from the overhang, allowing him to see more of the road and stores across the street. The puddles rippled more peacefully, as smaller drops caused less of a disturbance. People were venturing out from within the shops to jog quickly to their cars or destinations. Squinting, Hitoshi glanced up at the sky; what were once ash-gray clouds were lightening to a light hue, and spears of sunlight punched through their wispy frames to beam down to the earth. Puddles of light began to appear alongside the water puddles, golden and warm and bright.

"Well, what am I going to do with you?" Hitoshi wondered aloud and glanced back down at the kitten. It was now purring loudly, near-asleep, and staring at Hitoshi with bleary squinty eyes. Smiling, the lavender-haired boy softly stroked the patch of fur between its ears, and its purring jumped in volume. The kitten then yawned, flexing its pink sandpaper tongue and squeezing its eyes shut. When it finished, it smacked its lips and stuck out a little paw to nudge at his finger. Hitoshi smiled at the flash of its small pink pads when it wound around his middle finger and pulled his hand across the bunched-up jacket so it could snuggle into his palm. "I guess there's nothing for it…" he sighed and used his phone to snap a picture. He sent it to the Class 2-A group chat.

Me: I've made a friend. His name is Tiny Terror.

Ochako: T. T. for short! He's adorable. :D

Fumikage: He doesn't inspire much terror just looking at him.

Eijirou: Tokoyami, I can see you grinning from here. You think he's cute, don't you?

Fumikage: Be quiet! >:(

Tenya: You are NOT bringing that home.

Denki: He's got a name, RUDE. Come on, Iida! If you ask nicely I'm sure Hitoshi'll let you hold him.

Tenya: That's beside the point!

Tooru: He's so small! Did you rescue him from the rain, Hitoshi? How admirable~ \^u^/

Momo: I have some cream I can give him!

Izuku: I saw some DIY cat toy recipes on YouTube the other day! Let me find them.

Mina: Why were you looking at DIY cat toy videos?

Izuku: … I like to see the kitties play with them… >///<

Ochako: Aw, Deku, that's so cute!

Tenya: Why are we still discussing this? I said NO! Put him back!

Kyoka: Wow, way to be heartless. >.>

Katsuki: No one cares about your "orders," Four-Eyes.

Tenya: You guys are mean. :( … He is cute, I'll grant you that much.

His phone continued to ping with message notifications as the group discussed the newest addition to their lives. The rain was but a sprinkle now- certainly manageable enough to trot back to the dorms. Hitoshi bundled the tiny cat in his arms and stood up. The kitten peered up at him and meowed fearfully.

"Don't worry," he smiled kindly and bopped his little pink nose with a fingertip, "we're going home."

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @sadistiks @wesparklebitch

#bnhabookclub #bnhabookclub event #bnhabookclub bingo event #hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku hero academia #my hero #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

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vantaestummy · 4 years

Text

Quick sick Yoongi drabble

A/N: this cane to me while i was sleeping. sweet and short and of course, love my taegi. for imagery, i imagine yoongi to look like he does in the selfie that jimin took after they played just dance! (you know exactly what i’m talking about 😉)

TW/// emeto

The tour bus swayed on the uneven road, the nauseating sensation akin to that of being on a boat. Taehyung was such a good boyfriend. When was he not.

He places a cool towel around Yoongi’s shoulders, the rapper hunching over the girnourmous square-shaped bucket that was stuffed under the seats. It was actually used to pack shoes but, the boys had forgotten that it was there. This is a more important occasion, Taehyung thinks.

Yoongi’s been leaning over it for the past thirty minutes, his legs crossed with the bucket pulled into his lap. His head bobs along with the movement of the bus, the boy hissing every time they hit a sharp turn or bump. Namjoon and Seokjin are two rows away, worrying themselves to the point of sickeness. Jimin and Jungkook are with Hoseok, advising that he put in his headphone because things are probably going to get a bit messy. Jungkook thinks it best for Jimin to do the same. He knows his two boyfriends very well. At least Hoseok will own up to his squeamishness but Jimin is far too prideful to admit that he’s just as bad. Maybe even worse.

“Your hairs getting so long, baby. Let me pull it back, okay?” Taehyung mumbles, tying at Yoongi’s honey blonde fringe with a shooky hair tie, combing through his dark roots with love and care. Yoongi hasn’t said a single word since he started looking utterly nauseous. His lips are pouted as he sniffles, his mouth parting every so often, false alarms. It’s when Taehyung is done with his hair that things take a turn for the worst.

Yoongi’s shoulder roll as he starts to dry cough into the bucket, each time the sound growing more and more wet. Saliva pools under Yoongi’s tongue, gravity doing its thing as it starts to dangle from his bottom lip. He coughs a few more times, all painful and wheezing. Taehyung is right beside him, running circles into his back and scratching up and down the length of his curved spine.

“Should we stop? I can ask Sejin to let us stop for a break.” Seokjin asks, worry coloring his tone. His eyes are wide, as well as even a bit wet. Namjoon entwines their hand so that he can give the older boy’s wrist a soft kiss.

Taehyung sighs with a shake of his head. “We’re twenty minutes away from the venue. It’s better that we get there so hyung can get off of this bus for good.”

They had taken Yoongi’s medicine before the trip, stocking just enough for the duration of the drive, but so many of the roads had been blocked off due to construction, lengthening the journey without warning. They weren’t prepared for this, but Taehyung was going to do everything he could to make sure Yoongi was as comfortable as possible.

“Baby, breathe. We’re almost there.”

Yoongi sniffles, spitting into the bucket as he intakes a deep breath. His knuckles burn red as he grips the sides of the bucket with pure vigor. Things seem okay until, they’re not.

Yoongi gags fruitlessly, his little toungue popping out of his mouth as he leans foward. He continues to gag, more ropes of spit dripping into the bucket. Thank goodness Jungkook has convinced both Jimin and Hoseok to put in their headphones. It has taken them some time to realize that, just because they are protecting their own wellbeing, doesn’t mean they love or care for Yoongi any less. They are in fact, doing everyone a favor. One puking member of BTS is better than three.

“That’s it baby. It’ll be over soon. I’m right here. Jungkook-ah, please get me a bottle of water.”

“Bet.” Jungkook stands from his chair before reaching up to the overhead railing, grabbing a bottle from the pack of waters they had stocked. He hands it over to Taehyung, his gaze empathetic and sorrowful when he takes note of how miserable his hyung looks. He’s been in his boat one too many times before. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world.

Yoongi’s upper half rocks back and forth, each jolt of his body caused by the coughing/gagging sounds that his throat emits. He shakes his head as he spits into the bucket, his nose tickled by all the mucus. His face scrunches as he sneezes and as fucking cute as that is, now is not the time, Taehyung has to remind himself.

Yoongi’s silence has been troubling Taehyung ever since he grew so quiet, but that worry is long gone when he starts to heave.

Yoongi gags, the sound more like a retch as a splash of kimchi falls from his mouth and plops into the bucket. His head hangs low as he retches again, this time, a stream of orangish vomit pouring into the bucket, barely giving Yoongi a chance to breathe before his stomach is once again in his throat. A thick stream of bile is drained from his body like a faucet, filling the bucket halfway with a sickening sound, the puke piling up and up until it looks like a gallon full. Taehyung winces as he rubs Yoongi’s back, to the point of tears. He wishes there was more that he could do but really, there isn’t much at all.

Yoongi rocks, gargling out two more larger rounds of his lunch. The amount of bile he heaves after each bout of vomit becomes less and less until there isn’t much more left in his stomach. At the end, he is left spitting and sneezing, his face scrunching up in the most adorable way every time. Taehyung really wants to coo but the bus kind of smells like vomit and he thinks it best that Yoongi get some fresh air, now that they’re finally at the venue.

The bus pulls up to the back entrance with one loud screech. Hoseok and Jimin are hauled off by Jungkook, the smell starting to get to them. Namjoon and Seokjin make their way to the back, watching helplessly as Taehyung opens the bottle of water, handing it to Yoongi so that he can rinse his mouth out.

“Is there anything we can do?” Seokjin asks, his voice cracking. Namjoon holds out his hands for the bucket, his sweater paws enough to protect himself from the rims splattered with undigested food bits.

“Let me take this. We have mic check in a few hours. The best we can do is let Yoongi-hyung rest, yeah Jin-hyung?”

Seokjin nods, at a loss. The two leave Taehyung and Yoongi to fend for themselves, the older boy dragging his hands down his face, frustrated and still a little queasy.

“Please don’t look at me. I’m so embarrassed and I just want to be alone.” He mumbles, his chin and his cheeks and even his nose are tinted the prettiest shades of pink, even if the color comes from his illness.

Taehyung shakes his head before tucking a strand of Yoongi’s growing hair behind his ear.

“I am not going to leave you like this. You’re sick and you’re crying and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I bet you money that each and every one of us has puked on this bus more than twice. Remember last month? When Jungkook ate six cups of spicy ramen and spewed all over the seats? We couldn’t get the smell out of the leather for weeks. And that was because of a choice he made. This wasn’t your fault baby.”

Yoongi giggles tearfully, rubbing at his eyes with his oversized sleeves. His face is what gives him away, the downward curve of his pouted lips, the sadness swimming in his eyes. He’s being way too hard on himself for Taehyung’s liking, and the younger boy can’t handle it. He loves his boyfriend way too much to just allow him to hate himself, for something that he didn’t do on purpose.

“‘M not crying...” Yoongi weeps. Taehyung chuckles sadly before scooting closer.

Taehyung moves Yoongi’s hands way from his face gently, caressing his reddened knuckles and searching for his eyes. Yoongi avoids his adoring gaze, tear streaks plastered to his chubby cheeks.

“Baby please look at me. I love you and I want you to look at me when I say this.”

Yoongi sniffles; biting at his lip as to clamp in a whimper. He looks up, Taehyung’s boxy smile there to greet him when he does. Yoongi giggles, his gums showing.

“This is not your fault. You have no reason to be embarrassed. If anything, all of us were so scared. We just want to make sure you’re alright. Now, we have about three hours before mic check and all I want is to cuddle you while you wear one of my big sweatshirts, is that okay? Can we do that please?”

Yoongi giggles, covering his lips with his sweater paws before keeling over and slumping into Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung pets at his hair lovingly, happy to see that Yoongi’s natural flush has returned.

“I love you, Tae-ah.”

“I love you more hyung. Do you feel better? Can you drink some water for me?”

Yoongi nods. “But only if you let me keep on your sweatshirt for the mic check.”

Taehyung thinks that can be arranged.

“Deal.” He says, before the two of them start to laugh for a very long time.

A/N: did i say short? 😬

#bts sickfic #sick bts #emeto #sickfic #sick #my fic #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!taehyung #sick!taegi #tw throwing up #tw puke #tw vomiting

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ragewerthers · 4 years

Text

Mucked Up

Summary: While on a frog hunting mission for Sania, Noct gets into a little trouble with the bog and with Ignis.

Will he be able to fix this? Or did he really muck things up?

A/n: Hello all! This fic was created from another lovely prompt from my friend @bgn846! She asked for: 'Noct and Prompto go frog hunting for Sania. One of them gets stuck in the mud. Hilarity ensues.’ This fic grew sentient about halfway through and went in a different direction then I expected, but I hope everyone can enjoy the silliness, the whump and the fluff that will ensue! You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018892 Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3822

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

The squelch of mud beneath their boots made Noct’s nose crinkle slightly.

“Why do Sania’s frogs always have to thrive in the muddiest part of the swamp?” he grumbled, slapping at his neck as another mosquito buzzed and landed on him, intent on stealing more of his royal blood.

Little bastards.

“Did you ever consider that it’s because they’re… ya know… frogs?” Prompto teased as he followed carefully behind Noct on this little adventure Sania had set before them.

“You’re hilarious,” Noct deadpanned, growling as another mosquito swooped down to avenge his fallen brethren only to meet just as grim a fate by the Kings hand. “And what is with these bugs?! Why don’t they go after you?!”

“Because when Mama Ignis told me to put on bug spray I listened,” Prompto said, pointing to himself with his thumb as he puffed out his chest proudly. “You, on the other hand, were too busy trying to make sure your tackle box had those new cactuar lures because we both know you thought you’d get to fish. Which, surprise surprise, you can’t do in a bog.”

“There could be fish in there!” Noct tried to argue, looking out into the murky water only to watch as a giant bubble of swamp gas burbled up and belched into the air.

“... if there’s a fish living in that then he is a monster and should probably be left alone,” Prompto said honestly before gagging and covering his nose as the scent of the rancid swamp gas finally wafted over to them. “Blegh! Scratch that! If a fish is living in there it’s probably a daemon and we definitely need to leave it alone!”

Noct nodded quickly as his own hands came up to cover his nose, his eyes watering from the smell now surrounding them. “Oh… oh my gods… did the swamp just die?!” he gasped, waving one hand in the air to hopefully dispel some of the smell and succeeding in sending it back toward Prompto.

“Dude! Not cool!” Prompto cried, retching slightly as he turned tail and fled from the smell.

“It’s not like I did it!” Noct argued, trying to get away quickly as well, only to find himself listing forward as his upper half moved but his legs refused.

Arms wheeling in the air like a windmill, Noct failed to keep his balance and fell forward regardless of his valiant attempts. His hands sank into the squishy swamp mud, the force of which sent a good few glops splattering onto his face. “UGH!”

Prompto turned just in time to see the almost faceplant and honestly after getting bog gas wafted at him he found himself giggling at the swampy vengeance.

“That’s what you get for being terrible!” Prompto called from the firmer footing near the edge of the swamp. “Now come on! I think I heard something croaking over by that willow!” Turning on his heel Prompto began to walk away, leaving a glowering Noct to try and stand up.

“Hey! Wait for me!” he called, pausing a moment as he realized what Prompto had implied about his fate. “And I didn’t do anything!” When all he got back was a cackle Noct decided that as soon as he caught up with his friend he was going to give him the swampiest hug of his life! Once more he made to step forward and almost immediately repeated what he’d just done. His body tipping forward as his legs stayed firmly cemented in the…

“Uuuugh!” Noct groaned, looking down at the mud now encasing his boots and around his shins. He only just stopped himself from running his hands through his hair in agitation considering they were covered in mud, dead plants and whatever else the bog had claimed as its victim. “Prompto! Hey Prom! Come back! I… I think I’m stuck!”

“What?” Prompto’s voice called from somewhere in the thicket of the surrounding forest.

“I’m stuck!” Noct shouted back, reaching down to try and somehow yank his own leg out of the muck and mire. It wasn’t until he heard a shuttering click that he knew Prompto was back and he groaned, looking up to find his friend with the biggest smile on his face and his camera in hand. “.... really?”

“What? You know that I have to document our adventures no matter what!” he teased, only just keeping a giggle out of his voice.

Noct was less than impressed. “Is that so? Where was this camera when you got poison ivy on your butt? Or the time you spilled curry on your pants? Or the time you kissed your Chocobo?” “That was one time! And I was asleep!” Prompto squawked back, his cheeks going pink at the memory. “And don’t think I don’t know that Gladio took a picture of that moment!”

This time Noct did laugh, smiling innocently. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about? Gladio? Do something like that? Oh what will the Shield of Lucis think when I tell him what you think of him?”

Prompto squeaked at that and shook his head, waving his arms wildly in front of him “Nonono! Don’t say anything! Then he’ll definitely be on the hunt for more embarrassing photos!”

Shaking his head at his Prompto’s reaction, Noct pretended to give a deep hum of thought. “Well… if you can stop taking embarrassing photos of me and help me get out of here, I’ll consider it,” he said with a nod, causing Prompto to grumble even as he dismissed his camera back into the armiger.

“You’re a real stick in the mud, you know that?” Prompto mumbled though he smiled at the word play and glanced around for some sort of vine or stick for Noct to grab a hold of.

“Oh my god! You’ve been hanging out with Specs too much,” Noct said with a light smile making Prompto chuckle as he knocked a stick against a rock to test its strength.

“More like not enough. He would’ve had at least seven bog and mud induced puns at the ready,” the gunner joked, trying to carefully make his way closer to Prince, picking his way along the more sturdy edges of the swamp.

Noct contemplated that as he tried to twist a little to better face Prompto as he moved. “I mean… you’re not wrong. He would’ve been having a field day here,” he said, imagining Ignis with that look of slight disapproval at his mistake mixed with delight at such an easy target to tease. For all that people thought they knew about Ignis, no one ever pegged him for having a wicked teasing streak.

“Yeah. He probably would’ve said something like… ‘Oh Noct… I do hope you aren’t feeling ‘bogged’ down.’” Prompto said, pitching his voice a little lower and trying to go for Tenebrean, but hitting something that sounded more like the worlds most obnoxious snobbish royal.

Noct instantly snorted into a ridiculous laugh and shook his head. “A-Astrals that’s terrible!” Noct laughed, shaking his head. “Besides you didn’t add enough Iggy into it.”

“Oh? Well then go ahead, master of impressions. How would Ignis respond?” Prompto chuckled, looking down at his feet as he finally found what he considered to be as a good a place as any to brace himself.

Noct hummed in thought for a moment before puffing his chest out a bit and putting his hands on his hips, one of his hands coming up to push up non-existent glasses. “Noctis, do you know how terribly terrible those stains are going to be to get out?” he spoke, his own voice tipped into a deeper Tenebrean accent that sounded like a drunk version of Ignis.

Prompto instantly burst into a cackle at the sound, the force of his laughter making him hunch over and needing the support of his rescue stick to keep him upright. “O-Oh my gahahads! What was thahat?! It w-wasn’t even a pun! You were j-just berating yourself!” Prompto wheezed.

Noct couldn’t help laughing a bit as well and smiled over at his best friend. “What?! Tell me I’m wrong!” he called over Prompto’s laughter. “And you know that’s what I’m gonna hear when I get out of here! ‘Oh Noctis, what am I going to do with these socks? That’s it! Vegetables for a week! Beans and shame for you!’”

Prompto was crying he was laughing so hard, sending Noctis into a giggle fit of his own, though once he had enough breath he couldn’t help adding to the banter.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum! How dare you ‘swamp’ me with all this cleaning?”

“Noctis, this is ‘moss’ unbecoming of a royal!”

“Oh Noct, I can only ‘lichen’ you to a bog monster right now!”

“‘Marsh’ you be so messy?”

“Come now, surely I don’t sound that harsh?” a cool and accented voice broke through the laughing fit the two younger men were having and it was like they had been visited by Shiva herself and frozen in time.

Turning to look up at a small incline that led to the swamp, Prompto and Noct were both met with a rather unamused looking Adviser and a slightly smirking Shield.

Quickly, Noct ducked down, starting to dig his hands into the muck around his legs and startling Prompto. “Noct?! Dude, what are you doing!?”

“Digging my own grave, obviously!” he shouted, getting a snort from Gladio which was quickly silenced by another look from Ignis.

“That’s enough,“ Ignis’s voice spoke calmly, but with enough behind the words to still the motion of the other two. “Would someone care to explain what is going on here?”

Prompto turned his head back to Ignis, feeling the color drain from his face as those green eyes locked on him like a Coeurl ready to pounce. “N-Noct’s stuck,” he squeaked, feeling just a little stupid now for holding onto the stick he’d found to rescue the prince.

Ignis arched an eyebrow at this and turned his attention back to the young Prince who had finally stopped digging in the mud and was looking anywhere but at them with his arms crossed over his chest. “Is that true, Noct?” he asked.

“..... maybe,” Noct mumbled petulantly, mostly a front to hide how embarrassed he was over the fact that he really was stuck and also how he felt a bit of guilt for making fun of Ignis without him knowing.

“I see. Well. While I’m sure you both have an extensive knowledge of what I would say in a time like this, let me impart a bit of advice. Just three simple words,” he said, his voice eerily calm in a way that had Prompto and Noct shrinking back a little. “Noct can warp.”

And with that, the Adviser turned on his heel and headed back towards the direction of the haven, leaving Gladio still standing on the small hill. The man looked down at the both of them and shook his head.

“And let me impart three little words as well,” the Shield said, lifting his hand and counting off the words on his fingers. “You. Fucked. Up.” With that he turned and followed the same path the Adviser had just taken.

Noct stood there for a moment, watching his two advisers… his friends… leave. In that moment he felt more gross than any swamp gas bubble.

“You made Mama Ignis mad at me!” Prompto shouted from the sidelines, snapping Noct out of his thoughts as he turned to see a flushed and angry looking Prompto glaring at him.

“What?! You’re literally the one who started it!” Noct shouted back, narrowing his own eyes and watching as Prompto huffed at that.

“I was joking about his puns! You were making him sound mean!”

Noct opened, closed then opened his mouth again only to close it for a second time. After a moment he sighed, letting his shoulders droop. “I was,” Noct said after a moment, rubbing a hand on his arm and shaking his head.

Prompto’s glare slowly fell at that and he ran a hand through his blond hair. “Yeah well… so was I. I just… don’t like upsetting Iggy. He doesn’t deserve that. And… we really do have terrible Tenebrean accents, dude.”

Noct winced at that, realizing that not only had they both teased Ignis behind his back, but they’d also made him sound like that. Oh god, did Ignis think that’s how they saw him?!

Noct groaned and ran two muddy hands over his face, not really caring anymore what he looked like. “We gotta make this right. We will make this right.”

Prompto gave a little smile at that and nodded. “Yeah. We will. But uh… you might want to get out of there first. I can’t believe we didn’t think about you warping out.”

This time Noct groaned for a different reason and dropped his hands. “That’s because we were too busy being idiots. Specs always has our backs… even when we mess up.”

That knowledge only strengthened his resolve as he picked up a glob of mud, readying it to lob toward the edge of the bog.

Once he was free… they were going to make this right.

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

“I thought your clothes were supposed to warp with you?” Prompto said as they made their way back toward camp. Nocts boots, trousers and one sock now trophies to the swamp.

“Yeah well… so did I. I wasn’t focusing properly,” Noct grumbled a little as Prompto giggled, but soon he felt a soft bump to his shoulder and he glanced over to see the gunner smiling gently at him.

“It’ll be okay, Noct. We can right this with Iggy,” he promised, making the Prince give him a small smile in return.

However, as they got closer to the camp, both of them could hear Gladio and Ignis talking. It looked like they were both facing Ignis’s camp stove, their backs turned to them as they neared and unaware of their presence.

“Iggy? It’s okay,” Gladio said, his voice soft making Noct and Prompto frown as they glanced at each other.

”No. It’s not,” Ignis’s clipped tone answered back, shoulders hunching a little. “It’s not okay. It’s not alright. It’s not fine.”

Prompto and Noctis paused as they watched Gladio frown, his hand coming up to rest against the Adviser’s back. “It is. Or… at least it will be, right?”

Noct definitely frowned at that. Of course it was going to be okay!

Ignis’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve ruined it.”

What?! Their friendship?!�� No, no! Noct couldn’t believe what he was hearing! He was the one that had ruined everything!

Gladio ducked his head a little, his hand coming up to hold onto Ignis’s shoulder and gently moved him so the man would look him in the eyes. “Hey. None of that. You haven’t ruined anything, I promise,” he tried to reassure, but the way Ignis turned his head away showed how little he believed in Gladio’s words.

“It appears I can’t do anything right today,” the Adviser whispered and then… and then, to Noct and Prompto’s horror they watched as he brought his hand up, wiping at his eyes.

They.

Fucked. Up.

“Iggy NO!” Prompto shouted, darting ahead and startling Noct, Gladio and Ignis, the latter two both turning to look with bewilderment as Prompto raced toward the haven.

Noct watched for another second before his mind caught up and he took off as well, his chest feeling heavier than he’d ever felt it before. “Ignis please, I’m sorry!” he shouted, quickly clambering up the rocky face of the haven to get to where Gladio and Ignis still stood stock still.

Prompto was the first to get to him and quickly wrapped his arms around Ignis, burying his face against the man’s chest. “I’m so-OOF!” His words died on his lips as he soon felt Noct running into them as well. Sadly, Prompto’s first attack had left Ignis unbalanced and so with Nocts extra force there was no stopping them tumbling back and into a giant heap on the haven floor.

“Wh-what’s gotten into you tw-!” Ignis began before being silenced by a litany of apologies.

“Ignis I am so, so sorry for what I was saying back there and it wasn’t fair or funny of me to make fun of you like that!” Noct spoke quickly.

“Yeah! What he said, Iggy! I never meant to upset you and you know we don’t think of you like that!”

“Guys?” Gladio began, but paused as Ignis shot him a look before glancing back at the two still hovering over him with the most earnest faces he’s ever seen.

“You really mean that?” the Adviser asked and Prompto and Noct instantly nodded.

“You’re the best, Specs. I’d literally still be in the swamp if you hadn’t showed up!” Noct tried to explain.

“Exactly! Did you see what I was trying to use to save him? A stick, Iggy. A stick!!!” Prompto lamented, covering his face with his hands.

“I hope you know that you haven’t ruined anything,” Noct spoke up again, leaning back a little and nudging Prompto to do the same so that they weren’t crushing Ignis. “We… we were just being stupid, ya know? Teasing and joking, but it was unfair to do that and about those things. You are only ever looking out for me.”

Prompto nodded as well, giving Ignis a small smile. “Not to mention you also have some of the best puns. We never meant to make you feel bad or like you ruined anything. I’m sorry we made you feel that way, Iggy.”

Ignis looked between the two of them, the equal looks of uncertainty and worry still in their eyes and as they moved back he slowly sat up as well, rubbing his lower back a little. “While it definitely isn’t fun to walk up on two people whom I consider to be my friends talking about me in such a fashion, I can assure you that it would take harsher words then that to truly hurt me. I have had to deal with the Council since I was sixteen, remember?” he asked, looking between the two as they ducked their heads a little.

“Still… you shouldn’t have to compare us to the Council in terms of how much we hurt you,” Noct mumbled, still unable to look up at Ignis, Prompto nodding from the other side of Ignis where he still knelt.

With a little shake of his head, Ignis leaned forward, resting his hands on both of their shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. “What I was trying to say is that I’m fine. I promise. And I really did find some of those puns to be good, though the accent was a bit offensive,” he conceded, watching as they both turned their heads so quickly toward him he thought they were going to snap something in their necks.

“But… but you… you said that things weren’t alright?!” Noct quickly tried to explain.

“You looked so sad! And… and you were crying!” Prompto pointed out before jumping as he heard Gladio let out a bark of laughter from behind them. “What’s so funny?! We hurt Ignis!”

The man in question shook his head with an almost fond sort of exasperation on his face. “While I appreciate that you two were so quick and so willing to right your wrong, I’m afraid to say that my lamenting was over what we are having for dinner.” “... what?!” Ignis chuckled a little and brought a hand up to cover his mouth. “My apologies. I was working on a new recipe before we realized you two had been gone too long. By the time we got back it had already overcooked and needless to say after trying it again it just… wasn’t coming together quite how I wanted,” he explained, watching as dismay appeared over their faces. “As for the tears you can attribute those to some rather pungent wild onions. As I said before it would take more than what you two sa-..!” Ignis was knocked back once more as Noct and Prompto launched at him, enveloping him into the biggest hug he could remember.

“I’m sorry if I made you two worry,” he said quietly, but was instantly silenced by two pairs of eyes looking up at him with slight annoyance.

“No… you don’t get to apologize. We messed up. And we’re sorry,” Noct reassured and Prompto followed it up with a nod before hugging him a little tighter.

“Can you ever forgive us, Mama Ignis?” Prompto asked, and Ignis really couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping, making the other two relax a little at such an honest reaction.

“Of course. I forgave you both before I even made it back here,” he said with a nod. “Now, while I really do appreciate the hugs I think it’s best if I get up and get cleaned up considering Noct has decided to honor me with a bog hug.”

Noct instantly squawked as he sat back in horror, realizing that he had indeed coated the Adviser in mud and schmutz. “Oh Astrals, I’m so sorry, Specs,” he apologized again, only stopping as Ignis sat up with another chuckle.

“It’s fine, Noctis. I assure you,” he said, carefully getting back to his feet as Prompto and Noct followed suit. “It’s nothing a little soak in some... ,” His words stalled out as he finally took in the other two. “Noct… where… how… what..,”

Gladio snickered a little at the look of confusion, walking over to Ignis and wrapping an arm around his waist as he looked at the Prince. “I think what Ignis is trying to ask is… what happened to your pants?” Noct looked down, face turning red as he remembered where they now resided.

“... the bog ate them,” he said quietly, the campsite quiet for only a few beats before a snort from Ignis shattered the silence.

The poor Adviser was laughing so hard he was squeaking, having to take off his glasses to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes.

Gladio, meanwhile, was chuckling beside his partner and turned to look back at the other two. “I think you broke him,” he teased, getting a small swat from Ignis who still was trying desperately to stop laughing, but was failing miserably. One look at Noctis had him wheezing again and turning away with an apology as he continued to laugh.

Noctis couldn’t help smiling at that and shook his head. No. If anything he felt he had finally fixed things. And if that meant standing like a pantless bog monster to get his friend to laugh then it was worth it. Click “Prom!”

“I told you I have to document everything! And Ignis cry laughing over you in your underpants is top tier material!”

Still worth it.

#ffxv #my fics #f3s #gladiolus amcitia #ignis scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #prompto argentum #non-tickles #I hope you like this my friend!#I loved getting to write a little silliness and h/c!!!

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vintage-story-time · 3 years

Text

Family Peepers by David Crane

Chapter 9

Jimmy groaned.

He had enjoyed watching his mother and sister with an inbred voyeur's

glee, but now his cock was hammering, badly in need of attention. He

had hoped to dip it into one of their fuck-holes. But it seemed that

the women were quite content without his prick. He grasped his

cockstalk, tempted to relieve himself by a hand-job, but then

hesitated, still hoping to be invited up a cunt hole.

His daddy was even more desperate as he crouched in the doorway, his

eyes blazing as they registered the incestuous scene, the images

branded into his brain. His cock was harder than it had ever been

before, even in the days of his desperate virginity. He felt as if his

hard-on extended right down to his heels, as if his massive prick was

rooted to the floor, like a tree.

Virginia dropped her creamy face back into her daughter's crotch,

plastering her lips to the girl's pussy slot. Then, without breaking

that sweet contact, she began to revolve. Her ass and hips slowly

circled around, turning like a compass around the focal point of her

head. Moving on her knees, her ass hiked up and her heavy tits swinging

under her, she shifted around into the reverse position. She knelt

beside Bonny's eager, upturned face. Then she threw one leg across and

straddled her daughter's head.

Bonny gazed up into her mother's soaking, gaping cunt crater and she

began to whimper hungrily. Her tongue was flashing out even before they

made contact and her lips were sucking as if they were already clamped

on that wet cunt gash. Bonny had always enjoyed giving head to her

girlfriends, as much as she loved getting it from them, in fact, her

mouth being as horny as her cunt. But the very idea of sucking her own

mother's cunt was driving the girl wild.

Thighs rippling, Virginia slowly lowered her crotch onto her daughter's

face. Bonny's tongue shot out to meet that juicy pussy. Virginia's hips

jerked and her pussy circled just above the girl's hungry mouth like a

hairy hawk seeking soft, pink prey. Bonny's tongue extended, eager for

that swooping assault. Then Virginia went down the final inch and her

steaming cunt was glued to her daughter's mouth.

Bonny sucked with joy, her tongue slithering up into the woman's creamy

fuck-hole as her parted lips pulled voraciously on the open folds.

Virginia's ass swung from side to side as her belly pumped up and down.

She sucked with joy and felt her daughter's magic mouth massaging her

pussy.

And Jimmy could wait no longer!

With his mother on top in this inverted love scene, her ass churning,

the woman was in the same position she'd been in when her son had

fucked her asshole. The frantic lad crawled around behind his mother's

ass, following his jutting prick like a ship behind its prow.

Virginia's ass cheeks were spreading open as she ground her cunt down

into her daughter's face, and Jimmy gazed with fond memories at his

mother's tight shit hole. But he could see her cunt, as well. Those

hairy cuntlips were split widely and his sister's tongue was darting in

between them and the boy realized that there was room for a prick, as

well as a tongue, in that soaking fuck-hole.

She might reject him again, he knew and feared, but it was sure worth a

try!

He grasped his enormous prick by the hilt and levered the cock-knob

down into his mother's crotch, from under her ass. His flaring cockhead

rested on his sister's forehead for a moment, then slid down and nudged

into Virginia's cunt. The woman jerked and gasped when she felt a hot

slab of cock-knob throb in her pussy slot. She started to raise her

head, to tell the boy to switch to her shit chute so that they wouldn't

be sinning by incest. But her lips were glued so firmly on her

daughter's soaking cunt that she couldn't seem to break the contact,

and she didn't want to, anyhow.

What the hell, she reasoned. If a mother sucks her son off and takes

his prick up her asshole, does it really matter if he fucks her cunt,

too? Smiling on her daughter's cunt, she shoved her ass back against

her son's flat belly.

Jimmy paused, with only his cockhead pressed into her rippling cunt

slot. He no longer felt like a virgin, having unloaded his balls in her

mouth and her ass, yet he was, and the boy was savoring the expectation

of technically losing his cherry, lingering over the final seconds of

his hated virginity. He held his mother by her lush hips and worked his

cock muscles, making his cockhead flare in her cunt slot.

Bonny, finding the cunt she was sucking suddenly stuffed by a huge

cockhead, squealed with delight. She began to tongue her brother's

prick-knob and her mother's cunt together. Her taste-buds went wild as

they registered cockmeat and cuntmeat together. Jimmy's piss hole was

drooling and his pre-cum slid into Virginia's drenched cunt gash, and

Bonny was lapping those sweet nectar up in a succulent blend.

"Yeah, fuck my cunt," Virginia moaned, her lips stirring on Bonny's

cunt, causing her clit to vibrate.

Jimmy began to edge his enormous prick up into his mother's open fuck-

hole. As his cock-knob disappeared in her pussy, his bloated balls came

sliding down his sister's upturned face. Bonny lapped at his cockshaft

as it glided through her mouth on the way to her mother's pussy.

Bonny was in seventh heaven. The girl loved to suck cunt and adored to

suck cocks, but this was the first time that she had ever known the

pure ecstasy of sucking on both of those sweet delicacies at the same

time.

With a jolt, Jimmy fucked his cock balls-deep up his mother's clinging

cunt hole. She sighed into Bonny's cunt and Jimmy gasped, thrilled to

the core at having his thundering prick enveloped in a hot pussy for

the first time.

Virginia's firm cunt muscles began to work, pulling and dragging up his

cockstalk. The boy thought that her cunt felt even better than her

mouth or her shit chute. It had been impossible to imagine anything

that felt better than fucking her mouth or fucking her ass, yet it did.

Her cunt walls were sucking on his pounding cockmeat as well as any

mouth and her firm cunt muscles were contracting around his prick so

that her fuck-hole was as tight as her asshole.

The boy held every inch buried up her pussy for a long moment, savoring

the joy of it. Then he slowly pulled back out, until only his cock-head

was in her cunt, paused, then fucked in to the balls again.

Bonny tongued up and down the underside of his prickstalk as it fucked

in and out. That fat cockshaft pulled out soaking with cunt cream and

shoved back in drenched with the girl's frothy saliva. He fucked

through his sister's parted lips and into his mother's pussy with long,

rippling strokes. His balls slid over Bonny's face and she tongued

them, thrilled at how full of cum they were, and eager to drink that

cum out of her mother's soaking cunt when her brother shot his creamy

wad into that smoldering grotto.

Jimmy was shuddering under the magnificent double sensation, having his

prick sucked and licked at the same time that he was fucking it up a

cunt hole.

Bonny was vibrating with a dual delight, too, sucking and being sucked

all at once, and sucking on a double load, to boot! She didn't know

which end of her nubile body was more excited, her mouth or her cunt,

her tongue or her clit.

And Virginia, naughty mother that she was, was transported to pure

bliss. The horny woman was eating out her daughter's delicious pussy

while that sexy little nymphette tongue-fucked her with gusto and, at

the same time, her lusty son poured the prick into the depths of her

pussy.

Virginia had been in threesomes before, and plenty of them, but never

one as wonderful as this, with the frantic joy of incest added to the

physical sensations.

And that three way fuck-suck looked good to the burning eyes of her

husband.

Jack could bear it no longer.

The tormented man had to empty his balls before the fucking things blew

up! A man who enjoyed playing the voyeur at any time, even with total

strangers, he was driven to the heights of lust by this family fuck-

scene. Incest in all its forms, with a bit of lesbianism added, set the

man aflame. He grimaced and gasped and staggered.

He reached down and grasped his prick. It was like trying to grab hold

of a spurting firehose. His cockrod bucked so hard that it tossed his

fist off. Groaning, he grabbed again, clamping his hand around the

thick root of his cockshaft as if he were strangling it.

He gave his prick a slow push-pull. His hard-on seemed to be throbbing

all the way from his tight asshole up to his flaring cockhead, like an

iron rod that stretched right through his shuddering loins, transfixing

him on his prick.

Jack thought that he was going to shoot with such dynamic force that

his cum would arc all the way across the living room and splatter onto

their naked, churning bodies. The thought reminded him of how, earlier,

he had hosed his nubile daughter with a massive jism-load.

He wanted to move closer.

Still seeking to avoid incest, himself, although reveling in the sight

of it being performed by the other members of his naughty family, Jack

studied the cluster-fuck.

His wife's head was down, buried in his daughter's crotch, and his

daughter's head was hidden as his wife squatted over her face. His

son's eyes were closed as he fucked his enormous cock into his mother's

pussy. They were all preoccupied. Why should they notice a stealthy

approach?

Jack began to creep across the room behind the battering ram of his

pounding prick, stepping bowlegged around his bloated balls. His

cockhead was dripping, splattering a string of pearly drops across the

floor in his wake. He moved up and stood over them. His gigantic prick

was casting an elongated shadow over his wife's grinding ass.

A glob of spunk fell from his piss hole and splashed onto Virginia's

ass, but the whole scene was so creamy that she didn't notice the added

dampness.

Clenching his teeth, his lips squared back and his nostrils flaring,

lack began to beat his meat.

He intended to unload his cum-load and escape before anyone was aware

of his presence.

But then Bonny saw him...

#Family Peepers by David Crane #Chapter 9

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yfere · 5 years

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M9 Signature Combat Moves (and what they say about them)

AKA, I nerd out over battle strategies and patterns.

Fjord: Fjord is lovely and my favorite person to watch in battle, because his main combat strategy is, get out of dodge, then distract the enemy away from your friends, then get out of dodge, get your friends out of dodge, shove a healing potion down your unconscious friend’s throat while you’re getting them out of dodge. He’s all for the guerilla warfare, and is understandably upset whenever someone implies that it’s not super noble and heroic looking, because it works, right? Keeps him and everyone alive. So among his signature moves are:

Thunderstep. Which he uses to a) bampf himself and his friends (but mostly his friends) out of harms’ way or b) bampf some help to his friends. And by friends we mostly mean “Caleb” because this poor man needs everyone he can looking after him so he isn’t ground into meat paste in .02 seconds. Routinely holds the spell while Bad Shit Is Happening so that he can use it at the exact right moment.

Major Image. For those times you really want the enemy to be looking the other direction while you get out of dodge, or, to encourage them to massacre the group that is not you (an effective distraction!)

Misty Step. Getting some distance, like a hero.

Summon Greater Demon. For chewing spellcasters he doesn’t like to bits, but mostly for absorbing damage from all the mooks that might otherwise be targeting his squishy friends.

Beau: Beau is also lovely, so lovely that she takes precisely the opposite approach to Fjord in battle. The nature of what she does means she is in the enemy’s face. Grappled in every other fight (3/4 of fights?) and on the main? Thinks escaping from the grapple is a fuckin’ waste of time. She’s right where she wants to be, punching your lights out, and learning how better to destroy you all the while. And sure, it might be dangerous, especially when the creature holding your limp unconscious body splashes acid whenever it’s damaged, but hey. The logical upgrade to punching ghosts is to be a punching ghost. So for this violent, curious bean, you have:

Sentinel. I’m sorry, did you forget who you were fighting? You’re fighting Beau. You’re not fighting anyone else. And she is going to stay in your face, whether you like it or not.

Step of the Wind. Used less often for running away from things than running towards things, like things she wants to punch. But also for running towards other goals--like the Plank King who can put an end to the fighting on the docks, like her friend who is burning in lava and needs to be rescued. The reason she has so much movement, you see, is so she can drag your sorry ass out of trouble.

Stun. And that’s why she’s not leaving your space. The power that gets all of the worst creatures completely destroyed. Bye bye giants, bye bye Lorenzo, bye bye Krynn warrior--no, fuck! Well, whoever was responsible for offing the spellcaster is responsible for that, not Beau.

Extract Aspects. Wherein her punches and curious nature help her friends fight more effectively. Hey--hey CALEB! They’re not super wise! Wait--is Caleb down again? Fuck! JESTER! They’re not super wise!

Caleb: The easiest way to describe Caleb is to say that he has two battle modes. By and large, he is the nice and helpful support caster, making his friends more powerful and his foes a lot weaker while he ducks as much as he can out of the line of fire. But there’s another side to Caleb....when things truly go to hell, he brings hellfire raining down upon you, giving no fucks about anything but death. Leaves scores of incinerated bodies in his wake. Makes Fjord do a happy jig. So for him, you have:

Haste. Along with expeditious retreat, this is the spell that leads the whole party to just take it as gospel that Caleb is “as fast as balls.” In general, Caleb casts Haste on people less as a kind of strategy and more to display in his kooky way his love or favoritism or Desire for Friendship. Wants to get on Beau’s good side after telling her his secrets? She gets all the hastes. Feels guilty about leaving Nott to nearly get mauled to death by a dragon? She gets Haste. Needs to demonstrate to a stressed-out Fjord that he supports him in these trying times? Haste. And even if it’s not combat, we should never forget Hasted chopsticks to show love and friendship for Jester. Caleb....maybe you should use your words instead of your spell components, yeah?

Slow. Fuck you, you are not attacking his friends. Bye bye multiattack, bye bye, crazy AC. He’s so keen on saving his friends that he never even manages to wait for Caduceus to make landing the spell easier for him. It’s like a debuffing race between those two.

Fireball. From Caleb, fireball is a death sentence. You have the fleeing giant, but also...........all those pirates. All those gnolls. When Caleb casts Fireball, chances are it’s when he’s passed the point of caring about his own well-being and is only interested in fucking up other people. Downed with a crossbow bolt and just barely revived by Fjord, his only thought is to stumble forward, bleeding profusely, and finish what he started--make everything blow up.

Counterspell/Wall of Fire. So far, used in tandem, and to accomplish the same purpose--to put a big middle finger up at other spellcasters. His goal is to block their line of sight to his important people, bonus points if he can also light some people on fire, and if you even think about fucking with his spell he will smack whatever you try to the ground. Even half dead from exhaustion, he’s just better than you, and he’ll let you know it.

Nott: Like Fjord, she is all about guerilla tactics, about distracting and attacking, and hiding to attack again. She really likes attacking, and has the kill count to prove it. Also like Fjord, Nott is invested in the purchase and dispersal of healing potions--to the point where she annoyed him by buying the potions he requested (so that he could give them to people in trouble) only to keep them herself (so that she could give them to people in trouble). But unlike Fjord, she utilizes the running strategy not to get herself or others to safety necessarily, but rather as another form of distraction, to draw attention to herself and away from the others. For her, you have:

Phantasmal Force. The spell most likely to make her turn up her nose at Fjord and say, “but do you need me to make the illusion even more realistic?” She takes a great deal of pride and joy in it. Absolutely wonderful--a spell to distract in creative ways, to control other people to “thinking things that aren’t real,” the targets justify the illusion, and it deals damage! While Nott uses it for distraction, she also employs it for more creative purposes, like making Avantika relax and change priorities by thinking her journal was recovered.

Bonus Action Disengage. Or more strikingly, not disengaging. Nott will run like hell, and she will take the hit so that the people she loves won’t.

Bonus Action Hide. When the going gets tough, crawl behind something and wait it out, or wait for a good shot. Sometimes works brilliantly--other times what you’re hiding in is a burning building or beneath a bridge actively being collapsed on top of you. The moral of the story Nott takes from this is, running is probably better. At which point you do what you’re more used to--dashing.

Fury of the Small. "That’s my secret. I’m always small.” There’s an interesting commentary to this being a goblin racial trait, because in Nott’s case it probably isn’t fury at things bigger than her so much as fury at being made a goblin, a fury that only grows more potent with time, and more deadly.

Jester: Imagination that kills you, with humor and cuteness! You have to wonder if the pink bits on her dress are floral designs or blood splatters. This woman is a terror, and a person who loves to enter the fray--to the point of picking bar fights with her friends for the thrill of it! You might think, “oh, the cleric wants to get in my face to hurt me, I’ll just make her suffer” but the truth is, the one suffering is going to be you.

Spiritual Weapon. As Iconic a weapon as Fjord’s falchion, and used a lot more frequently. Bludgeons people until they’re nothing more than bloodstains on the ground. Other clerics wish they were as good. Especially Shakaste. Poor Shakaste.

Invoke Duplicity. There to help her friends whenever Jester can’t--or shouldn’t--get somewhere herself. Will fight furniture when Jester needs to look around for a way to help Fjord. Will walk over lava to harm a giant as a distraction. Will, sometimes, be sent over to heal someone who needs it. The beauty of it is that, besides distracting and protecting, it allows her to be wherever she is most needed for a spell.

Inflict Wounds. Jester likes one thing above all, and it is to fuck people up. She’ll do it through her duplicate or she’ll do it herself, but one way or the other she’s going to wind her hands around you and make you bleed through your eyeballs. She’ll cast it on hydras. She’ll cast it on dragons. She’ll cast it on fire giants. She’ll cast it on her best friend who thought that this was a friendly brawl. And it is. Jester is nearly always friendly when she’s destroying you.

Hellish Rebuke. Unless she’s not being friendly. Once upon a time, she had a quip for when she was attacked. Now she will scream and cry out, and just the sound of it will send icy pain to whoever dared to hurt her.

Caduceus: Of everyone in the M9, the most averse to close combat, or more broadly to making a target of himself, ever. Is surprised and upset whenever creatures get close to him, or get it into their heads to attack him. He’s the support. You shouldn’t even notice he’s there. Here are some bugs--how about you attack those? What do you mean he has to get close to do touch-based healing--nope, nope, healing word it is, and only after people are unconscious to maximize its usefulness.

Hidden Step. He really doesn’t want you to notice that he’s here. If he doesn’t do this, he might try literally sinking into the ground to avoid you.

Bane. The quintessential Caduceus spell. Aptly named for how miserable it makes all his enemies. Works beautifully both for protecting those who are close to the enemy, and gels very nicely with Jester fucking shit up and Fjord distracting the enemy and whatever the hell Caleb is planning to do if....if they fucking wait for him to cast it..............

Sentinel at Death’s Door. He really doesn’t want his friends to die. It’s expensive. And there’s a certain impatient ass of a wizard who just might have died instantly if he hadn’t been hovering around him at the time. Sigh.

Path to the Grave. Caduceus is not one to get his hands dirty. Well, dirt is fine, but not so much the living blood of his foes. No, he likes to deal his damage by proxy, through his bug swarm but especially through Yasha. She already deals so much damage, and isn’t it beautiful to watch her deal twice as much of it? Bonus points if it makes Yasha look like the big scary target, and not him.

Yasha: As always, Yasha is a hard one for me, because I want to distinguish Travis-Yasha from Ashley-Yasha, but the fact of it is I haven’t seen much of Ashley-Yasha for a while. So it’s hard. But there’s one thing in particular that has stood out to me about Yasha and the way she works, and that is

Rage. Or rather, her hesitation to rage. She’s a fighting machine who isn’t happy being a fighting machine, and there are so many times she chooses not to fly into a rage and start hitting things when she thinks being calm and talking things out is an option. She asks the lightning-creature a question, asks if it was sent from the Stormlord. “Yeah...he’s going to attack you,” Matt says. But that’s the important thing--she didn’t instigate. Ever. She didn’t get angry first. She waits, and tries everything other than the killing, until she’s provoked past the point of reason. You could even argue this as a story justification for her low initiative rolls--she just doesn’t want to get angry and attack. Not unless she has to.

#critical role #cr spoilers #meta #fjord #beauregard #caleb widogast #nott the brave #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #yasha nydoorin #I also want to do a non-combat post

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xonxsm · 4 years

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pastel || bnha x male!reader

---》 two 《---

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

class went on normally, with a few glances occasionally being thrown at the [h/c]-male, to which he never noticed- he was too busy daydreaming about kermit and pepe the frogs' forbidden love.

'mi amor,' [m/n] thought to himself with a weird voice, looking at the "man" he formed with his fingers, imagining it as kermit. setting his head on the desk he made kermit kneel in front of pepe, with kermit holding out imaginary flowers.

'i cannot hold this inside me anymore... my beautiful boyfriend, dear pepe, my love, will you marry and run away with me?' pepe let out dramatic tears and nods aggressively, [m/n] about to make both hands 'kiss' before aizawa brought him to his attention.

"we will be choosing a class rep today."

almost everyone started talking at once, mostly about how much they wanted to be class rep and why them people should choose them; until iida shushed everyone by saying they should choose by voting. [m/n] looked lost.

bruh. i just started, like, two hours ago. i don't even know anything about them- wtf lol-

sighing, he doodled the poop emoji with hearts and flies surrounding it before folding it up and submitting his 'vote'.

midoriya and momo ended being chosen as class president and vice president respectively, while iida sulked in a corner. bakugo- an ash-blonde boy started shouting about the people that voted for broccoli while explosions went on around him.

:o boomboom be handsome tho, me hearteu umu

the bell rang right after that. [m/n] stretched, excited for food, but quickly slouched as he realised he had no idea where the canteen was. he decided to just follow the others, and grinned when he arrived, quickly running to the line to get food.

<<>><<>><<>>

PROBLEM, TwT.

holding his tray he walked around, hoping to spot an empty table. there were many empty seats, but [m/n] being the little antisocial bean he is he refused to walk up and ask if he could sit. he was about to leave the lunch room and go eat in the bathroom AlOnE before he spotted a pink-haired and skinned girl frantically waving him over to sit at her table.

grinning he strutted over with his tray, his tail flicking slightly as he sat down beside an electric blonde. "heyyyy-"

"hey! i'm mina. this is kaminari, bakugo, kirishima annnd sero." mina gave him a big smile while he munched on his sushi rolls.

"yoe." [m/n] mumbled with his mouth full of rice, waving. quickly finishing his rice balls he was about to reach for his banana milk when suddenly loud alarms started blaring. [m/n] let out a soft whimper as he massaged his ringing ears. confused voices and shuffling of students filled the lunch room.

"warning: there has been a level 3 security breach. this is not a drill." an upperclassmen stood up, screeching about how this hasn't happened in three years and everyone ran out of the lunch room, [m/n] somehow getting caught up in the crowd. he could feel tears building up, slowly getting harder and harder to breathe. just as he was about to collapse on the floor- a hand grabbed him and roughly pulled [m/n] to the side, slamming him against the wall.

waht. oh shiddy tiddies I'm being pinned against de wall. a flustered [m/n] looked up into curious red eyes. "uh- thankz."

kirishima only grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. [m/n] shyly fiddled with his tie, looking behind kirishima when he heard a familiar voice shout. he looked over to the floating dude shouting about the breach caused by the 'press'. everything was sorted out, everyone stopped running and went back to what they were doing before. [m/n] yeeted himself outta the corner, quickly walking back to the cafeteria with a still grinning kirishima in tow.

walking back to the table where he was sitting before the breach he dramatically dropped to his knees to where his fallen tray was, his food splattered on the ground. "Noooo... me love, me zalmon roll, me banana milk." clutching his chest with a sad look he picked up the fallen tray and food before casually dumping it in the trash can, a happy look immediately on his face as he let out a smol burp, setting his phat ass on his seat.

kirishima only stared at him like he was the most unmanly thing in the whole universe. BiPoLaR MuCh Ay-

"E." [m/n] stated as he stared at the approaching group he sat with before, munching on a bag of chips he pulled out of n o w h e r e.

realising he was probably blocking the standing group from getting into their seats he stood up in shy, his ears lowering as he stepped aside for them to pass and sit down. mina, sitting in the middle immediately pulled him down next to her, giving him a smol noogie before successfully stealing [m/n]'s last chip.

"beach." [m/n] sulked, throwing the empty potato chip bag in her face, to which she somehow dodged and it smacked bakugo square in the face.

"HEY YOU LITTLE-" [m/n] shrieked, quickly retrieving the empty bag, placing it on the side as he shifted away a little. bakugo only huffed and continued eating his food, while [m/n] sipped on a banana milk that magically appeared.

uncomfortable silence filled the table as [m/n] shifted awkwardly in his seat, feeling like he was the cause. he was about to get up, using "i wantz some more banana milk" as an excuse before mina pushed him back down.

"hey, are your ears and tail part of your quirk? ooo wait CAN I TOUCH THEM? THEY FLUFFY 🥺"

a certain green-haired boy across from them listened in, hearing the word 'quirk'.

"yez! me tail and earz are part of my quirk. i can alzo zhift into a wolf, and like, run really fast. and zure you can touch me earz," [m/n] replied, lifting his ears a little as mina pet his ears like how you would pet a dog- as he let out really soft purrs from his throat.

and scribbling intensifies for midoriya.

"you talk weird," kaminari blurted out, his ears immediately turning a little red. "not that its bad or anything-"

"yeh, itz juzt me long azz tongue, it makez it kinda hard to form wordz- zadly i can't control itz length."

but, i have good tongue technology. [m/n] let out a soft giggle before cringing at his own voice, pouting slightly as he felt mina stop petting his ears. IMMEDIATELY turning red when he felt something poking his tail.

"ZLKDFJNKZ WOMAN!" he quickly jumped up, shifting his tail to cover his growing um... area before shooting mina a glare. "DON'T TOUCH ME TAIL!"

then he dashi ran outta the lunch room to the bathroom, feeling his whole body turn hot as the others stared at his disappearing figure confused.

<<>><<>><<>>

[m/n] boredly stared on as midoriya decided to give iida his position of class rep. not even bothering to continue his story of pepe and kermit, he laid his head down on his desk again, yawning a little.

"psst!"

sero and kaminari poked his ears as he looked over. "dude, you ok? you just zoomed outta there."

[m/n] coughed, slightly embarrassed as he moved his tail closer. "yeah, totally finez."

totally did not get a boner because someone touched my tail. ahem. he was grateful for the fur on his ears, feeling them heat up as he buried his head between his arms.

[m/n] was still groaning internally as the others cheered for the new class president, the one and only iida tenya.

<<>><<>><<>>

"for today's hero training we will be having three different instructors; with them being me, all might and another person you will meet later." aizawa droned on about the training, holding out a card with the word 'rescue' with all caps written on it. he pointed to a rack full of suitcases where the costumes were put. [m/n] rushed over after aizawa told them to get ready- he was quite excited to put on his costume which was shipped to japan after it was completed in [your country]. grabbing a suitcase with his name he skipped to the changing rooms, humming.

[m/n]'s suit was rather child-like, but also kinda revealing. short-sleeved [h/c] shirt with a long v-neck that was tucked into a pair of black pants that folded in mid thigh- and of course a hole in the back so he could comfortably tuck his tail out. then some bandages that acted as gloves and socks, and black boots. to top it all off a [f/c] cloak that reached his knees.

he checked in the suitcase, hoping to find a collar but was disappointed to find nothing.

well i didn't order for one to be made, i guess-

he stuffed the suitcase and collar into his locker and quickly ran out to where the bus was, lining up as iida told.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

word count: 1536 words

ahem.. no, [m/n] isn't in heat.

from what i read from other uh more mature fanfics hybrids have sensitive ears and t a i l s. so yeah [m/n] isn't in heat. it's gonna be weird if he is already in heat after he joins yuuei for like five hours.

the pepe and kermit part gave me inspiration, so I'm going to be writing a whole book dedicated to their forbidden love.

. . .

just kidding lol no-

unless~ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

#bnha #mha #bakugo #todoroki #deku #midoriya #kirishima #kaminari #yaoi #anime #manga #malereader #hybrid

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