#this is so self indulgent and we do not apologize pls enjoy
Text
Cramps
Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy.
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate.
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for.
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period.
Your cycle had been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag.
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military.
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it.
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response.
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood.
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration.
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.”
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man.
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work.
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband.
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending.
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie.
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!”
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath.
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-”
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.”
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door.
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway.
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it.
You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood.
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear.
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants.
Your period had come.
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie.
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ”
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply.
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.”
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first.
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.”
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply.
“Thank you. You’re the best.”
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘”
“Oh shut up, meanie.”
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍”
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way.
Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch.
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband.
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?”
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest.
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace.
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you.
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-”
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse.
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem.
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.”
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.”
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him.
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you.
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you.
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza.
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-”
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?”
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?”
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.”
“I think I can make that happen.”
About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest.
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy.
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth.
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you.
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core.
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you.
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices.
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period.
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man.
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths.
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.”
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds.
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt.
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot.
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool.
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over.
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue.
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name.
“Frankie, holy fuck.”
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could.
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.”
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt.
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace.
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over.
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him.
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity.
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him.
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate.
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word.
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.”
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there.
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did.
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.”
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in.
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.”
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high.
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss.
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss.
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight.
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.”
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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stubble-matty healy
a/n: hey loves <3 idk why i'm suddenly deciding it's a good idea for me to post my writing on tumblr again (or why the first thing is i'm deciding to post is just pure filth) but here we are. i've had this in my notes for aggeess and since everyone's in their matty era rn i thought i'd feed you all. pls be nice i am actually shitting it posting this. (also apologies to all my old moots who now have matty healy in their feed when they do not want him! love u all x)
warnings: just pure self indulgent smut tbh (but it's cute, I promise!) smoking, fem!reader
wc: 1,691
I’d never really been an early bird. The morning air was always a little too cold on my skin for my liking and I didn’t much enjoy the taste of coffee, nor the sound of my alarm, which I set each night despite knowing I’d sleep through it every time without fail. My pillow never felt quite as fluffy as it did in the evening and the noises of the bustling city I’d grown somewhat fond of only existed to annoy me as I prised open my tired eyes. And yet, with him…I was every bit a morning person.
There was just something different about waking up to him. Even at 7am, with my alarm blaring from my phone and the barely conscious thought that I had to be up for a meeting soon flitting around my brain, I couldn’t help but smile to myself whenever I opened my eyes to see him beside me. Especially on those rare occasions like today that I woke up before him, languidly turning onto my side to see the man I loved still dozing peacefully.
He was such a pretty sleeper, his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, lips parted and warm breath tickling my bare skin with each soft snore. His curls, which he’d recently developed a penchant for flattening down with obscene amounts of hair gel, were splayed out haphazardly on the pillow and I smiled sleepily at the sight, moving to brush a few stray locks from his eyes. I pressed a a featherweight kiss to his forehead and he stirred, a contented hum slipping from his lips, but didn’t wake, much to my delight. I so wanted to bask in this moment just a little longer, scarcely having the pleasure of seeing my boyfriend in a state so unadulteratedly vulnerable.
Minutes passed and, still draped in my sheets and his limbs that he’d aimlessly tossed over me in the middle of the night, I watched Matty with a sleepy smile painting my mouth. My eyes traced his every freckle which, after nearly four years together, I thought I’d become familiar with, only stopping when I noticed his eyelids slowly flutter open.
He yawned and sluggishly rubbed a fist against his eyes, dazed with sleep as he blinked up at me.
“Morning” I smiled, finding him wonderfully endearing when he was barely over the threshold of slumber.
“Mph, g’mornin…” He croaked out lowly, eyes falling shut again as he buried his head further into my neck, placing a sloppy kiss to my jawline. “How long have y’been awake?”
“Not long. Couple of minutes, maybe.” Matty hummed, lips never once leaving my skin as he peppered a listless trail of saccharine kisses from my jaw to my neck. His two day old stubble brushed against me and I giggled at the sensation, squirming under his touch. “That tickles…”
“Sorry.” He smirked, looking up at me with a familiar cheeky glint in his eye, still managing to tease me in his drowsy state. “Need to shave."
I shook my head, scratching the light shadow of facial hair that peppered his jaw.
"I dunno...I kinda like it. You look quite fit."
"Yeah?" Matty snickered at my words, his laugh a little rough with sleep, and nuzzled his cheek against mine, intentionally grazing my skin with his stubble. I pushed him away, biting back my playful smile.
"Stop it. You're gonna give me beard burn."
"You've never complained about that before, love..." He chuckled but pulled away from me, sitting up to lazily reach for the packet of cigarettes resting on his side-table, pulling a smoke out with his teeth.
I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was implying and wanting no part of it. I had work in an hour or so; choosing to engage with him and his incessant virility was a dangerous game that I wasn't too sure I had the time to play.
"It's barely seven o'clock, Matthew. Get your head out of the gutter" I chided, eyes fixed on him as he lit his cigarette, the sheets pooling at his waist and his unruly curls flopping forward.
He grinned sleepily, blowing out a thin trail of smoke from the corner of his mouth before turning to look at me, propping himself up on one elbow. "S'always deep in the gutter with you, darlin."
Jesus.
I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling restless under his half-lidded gaze. He knew it, too; more than aware of the effect he had on me, especially at times like this where the border between love and lust blurred in the hazy morning light.
"Even when you've just woke up?" I cocked a brow, stealing the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a long pull.
Inching closer, Matty smirked and slipped a hand beneath my pyjama shirt, his thumb kneading soft circles against my waist.
"Oh, that's when it's at its deepest." Claiming the cig back, he took one last drag before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray, wasting no time in pulling me flush against his warm body. His lips met mine in a matter of seconds and I practically purred; the first proper kiss of the day far better than the buzz any amount of espresso or nicotine could give.
For a minute or so, the two of us remained locked in a kiss, a barely-awake display of affection that only turned to desire when Matty's hands fell from my waist, fingers hooking under the cotton waistband of my underwear.
"Matty..."I mumbled against his mouth, brushing away his hand only for it to fall right back into position. "Mph...I've gotta get up for work."
He pouted, pulling away somewhat breathlessly.
"Please" His voice radiated with a fervent desperation. "I'll be quick. Jus' wanna taste you before you go."
"I-I dunno. I really can't be late again."
The heat between my legs said differently.
"Please, love..." He reiterated, almost whimpering now. "Promise you won't be."
He was already practically between my legs at this point, fingers splayed out against my hips as he planted sloppy kisses to my stomach, my shirt now somehow hiked up just below my breasts.
This man was going to be the death of me (and probably my career, by the looks of things.)
"Shit, Matt" I shook my head lightly at my the love of my life as he lay at the foot of the bed we'd shared for years, gazing up from between my thighs with sleepy adoration and the morning sun on his face. I could do nothing more than sigh in defeat. "Fine. But you're looking after me if I lose my job over you."
"Always" he breathed out softly.
It took him no time at all to pull down my underwear, letting them bunch up at my ankles as he turned his full attention to my thighs, which already glistened with my own slick.
"Fuck, love" He drew a sharp breath, languidly nibbling at the skin just below my pussy, leaving lazy, haphazard marks on my inner thighs. His grip on my hips grew tighter. "So beautiful."
"Thought you said you were going to be quick." I whined, bucking my hips slightly. Matty chuckled, his warm breath brushing my bare cunt.
"God, so needy" He quipped jokingly and I lifted my head from the pillow to shoot him a look. Brave words for a man who'd just practically grovelled at my feet for a taste of me. "Alright, alright. You don't need to tell me twice."
And with that his mouth finally got to work, lapping up my dripping arousal with a fervency that let me know just how much he desired me. Matty didn't always want to admit it; sincerity was difficult for him at the best of times, but he'd crawl into my skin if he could. Moments like this, when his mouth and attention was on me and me alone were his special way of letting me know that I was all his.
The speed at which his tongue worked at grew with each passing moment, no longer idly circling my clit. I gasped, hands grasping at his curls as I felt the familiar burn of his stubble against my inner thighs, an added sensation I was rarely lucky enough to experience. Thank fuck he hadn't bothered to shave.
"Feel good, gorgeous?" I let out a strangled moan in response and Matty hummed in satisfaction against my core, the soft vibration only bringing me closer to orgasm. "Good. S'my pretty girl."
He said nothing more, the room only filling with the sound of pleasure; my desperate whimpers and the sloppy sound of his tongue as it drew shapes against my bud intermingling in one sweet sonance. With each lick, I grew nearer to release. Matty knew my body well enough to know I wasn't far from cumming, feeling me writhe beneath him, mumbled expletives slipping from my mouth as he told me just how good I tasted.
"Nearly there, darlin'. Doin' so well." He quickened his pace, breathing heavily as he coated my pussy in his saliva. "Wanna cum for me, yeah?"
I nodded, although I wasn't sure he could see me, the coil in my lower stomach tightening.
"Y-yeah."
"Thought so" he breathed. "Go on then, love."
And I did, coming apart beneath him, loosing myself momentarily in a feeling of burning pleasure only he could ever elicit from me. I sung his praises, his name falling from my lips as he slowed, his featherweight kisses to my clit allowing me to ride out my high. Matty let out a throaty groan himself, getting off on knowing he'd done this to me.
Hazily flopping my head back against the pillow, I felt Matty clamber up the bed, watching me with loving ardor as my chest heaved.
He hovered above me, his hands positioned firmly on either side of my shoulders as he leant down to kiss me, his (not quite) beard glistening with my juices and his lips slick and wet.
"How's that for beard burn, aye?" He smirked against my mouth and, despite my exhaustion, I found just enough energy to smack his shoulder playfully.
"Dickhead."
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I know your inbox is probably full but if it's alright I'd like to send a lil something something in.
Could we see a little blurb about the sleepovers between Jonathan and reader? Like them hanging out together, asking stupid hypotheticals, reading comics, stuff like that?
" okay but if one day you turn around and I'm just a horse, what would you do?"
" why would you be a horse?"
" why are you dodging the question?!"
pls never hesitate to send me stuff my dear !! i will always gladly answer so no apology needed <3
i LOVE this blurb request and im kinda bummed i cant squeeze in sleepovers due to plot so this is purely self indulgent and i so hope u enjoy <3
“pssst bee.” you shouldve been asleep hours ago.
a sigh. “bug—”
“psssssssssst,”
“bug im so tired—”
“pssssssssssssssssssst,”
jonathan flings up from the beanbag. “okay. fine. im up. yes, what do you need?”
“what would you do if one day you turned around and i was a horse?”
you cant see his face too clearly in the moonlight, but you swear you see jonathans eye twitch. “when i agreed to sleepover—”
“you invited yourself, actually.”
“i thought we’d be asleep by like two. max. it’s now four in the morning and im about to cry from exhaustion.”
you scoff at him. “weak. weve stayed up later before.”
“sure, but we’re supposed to be up in like three hours for school and—”
“why are you dodging the question, jonathan?”
he sighs again, knowing he cant do anything else but play along. as if he’d want to do anything else. he had only been complaining to get you to roll your eyes at him and use that mock stern voice that always makes him smile.
“if you suddenly became a horse, i would feed you the best apples around.”
you rest a hand against your heart, oddly touched. “youd really do that?”
“of course.”
“aww. see, now i feel bad for keeping you up—”
“that way i can then hop on your back and make you take me everywhere. can you imagine how much money id save on gas?”
you hear, rather than see, your pillow collide against jonathans face.
giggles erupt in the room afterwards. theres no doubt youre both deliriously tired and will regret staying up so late once morning comes, but for now youre so happy you could melt into your blankets and float away.
“can i sleepover tomorrow, too?” jonathan asks, his voice laced with sleep and warmth.
you hum, your eyes drooping as you roll over and get comfortable in bed. “of course, dummy.”
“cool.”
“goodnight, bee.”
“goodnight, bug.”
#ask#anon#come home blurb#m’s writing#m speaks#set before season 1 !#i love them so much#so so so much
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“The best gifts of life” (Jing Yuan & Reader)
A/N: LMAOOO pls I'm so sorry again, this is so self-indulgent I'm crying, bear with me don't look at me and don't read this, I am having my rare lee moment before I either stop posting stuff for another year or finally get to work-
“J-Jing Yuan, I'm dyihihing!”
“Sure you are, my friend~”
You were alone in the garden with the general, your high-pitched giggles filling the air around the two of you, as you tried to escape his playful grasp. His free hand was softly squeezing your right hip and side, his wiggling fingers occasionally teasing your bottom ribs while he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you in place with ease.
“I'm sohohorry for tickling y-you! It wohon't happen again!~”
But you both knew it definitely would happen again.
“I bet you'd try again if I let you go,” the general chuckled. “You can't help yourself when it comes to making me laugh, can you?~”
His fingers danced all over the side of your ribcage, getting dangerously close to your underarm...
“Nohohot there!~” you squealed, immediately pressing your elbow to your side, trying to hide your ticklish spots from him. Jing Yuan laughed softly, a playful gleam in his eyes.
“Not the ribs, not the belly, not the armpits. What's next? Are we gonna have to check every inch of your body just to see where else you are ticklish? Maybe you'll like some other spots more~”
You could only giggle and squeak in response, wiggling around in his hold as his fingers brushed over the sides of your tummy.
“P-plehehease!~”
“Your weak spot really is everywhere, isn't it?” he teased. “Nowhere is safe!”
A few more giggles escaped you, making Jing Yuan smile, before he decided to let you go.
“Alright, alright. Sorry, I got a little carried away, my friend. Are you feeling okay?” the white haired man asked, a hint of apology and care in his gaze.
“H-huh?.. Oh,” you immediately stopped giggling as soon as Jing Yuan let you go. Well, that was a little bit... disappointing? “Y-yeah, I'm good. Don't worry about it.”
“...Do you not want to get up?” the general asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to the side out of concern. He was surprised to see you in such a still position, wondering about the sudden silence. “Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no, Jing, please don't worry! I just...” you blushed slightly, looking away, your voice quiet as you mumbled, “...I didn't want- I-I mean-! I mean you didn't have to stop...”
“I didn't have to stop?” Jing Yuan repeated your words in a soft and quiet voice, staring at your back for a few more moments. Ooooh...
“You enjoyed it,” he said with a grin, “You enjoyed being tickled, did you?”
“H-hey now, I didn't say that!” your cheeks became even more red in a second, and you frowned at the general in embarrassment.
“Oh? But do you deny it?~” Jing Yuan chuckled at your quick response. “Okay, so you didn't enjoy being tickled, then?” he teased. The white haired man looked right at you, an endearing smile on his face as he waited for an honest answer.
“Y-you're so meannn...” you practically whined, this time not daring to turn around to look at him, your face felt like it was on fire.
“That's not quite of an answer,” the general teased, amused. “Is that a 'yes' or a 'no', my friend?”
“...That's just not fair.”
“Is it really that embarrassing to say that you like the tickles?” he grinned as you kept trying to dodge his questions, “How about I make you a deal? If you admit to liking being tickled, I promise to do it often”.
You could've sworn that Jing Yuan had a hard time holding back his amused laughter when he saw how quickly you turned around to look at him, your eyes wide and face flushed. You stared at each other silently for a few seconds.
“Sooo..?” the general smiled, raising his eyebrows expectantly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“...I... don't mind it, I guess,” you huffed, looking away.
Another short pause.
“I had fun too, my friend,” the white haired man confessed to you in a gentle voice, letting you know there was no need to be embarrassed, “I enjoyed playing with you like that”.
“Stoooop, you're not m-making all of this easier-”
“And I'm glad to hear that you ‘don't mind’ it, because that means I can do this!~” the general suddenly made a move towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you with a playful grin and tackling you to the grass, as his wiggling fingers found your ribs again, making you burst out into another giggle fit.
As the saying went, the best gifts of life were the little things...
A/N: bro I would let him tease me until I fricking scream and sob and lying on the floor and I would still thank him ...wait nononono listen, listen- nononono listen, listen-
#honkai star rail#tickle drabble#tickling#my stuff#lee!reader#ler!jing yuan#jing yuan#reader insert#BRO HAS NO SHAME AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE#naaah that's definitely a lee mood bruuuuh-#somebody just bake me into a damn pie already#AND LET HIM EAT IT 🫵🏻#i'm so gay for everyone in this game bruh#i'm so cringe today 😭#DELETE LATER
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SO.
EVERYONE STFU BUTTERFLY BANDAGE PART 2 JUST DRAWPED!!! FIRST of all,,, ily and yr giant beautiful fucking brain i’m saur serious rn we are 2 chapters into this shit nd it’s already taking over my life 🤣
NOW PLS #EXPLAIN YRSELF BCUZ HOW THE FAWK DID YOU GET INFO ON SECRET GRINDSET LORE,,, the parts about y/n’s ex hit a wee bit too close to home i fear 💀 yes i’m y/n thx for asking. but i fucken love how you wrote it the way you described the emotions is fr like?!?! you wrote it even more accurate than it FEELS does that make sense prob not anywhomst WE MOVE (killing y/n’s ex btw)
y/n nd changbinnie wit their joint slay I CARE THEM SAUR MOCH i love how y/n is always thinking of bin even when he’s not around like she fr loves him that’s ha bff 🥹🫶🏽 AND CHANATHAN. EVERY FUCKEN SCENE WITH HIM GOT ME FEELING LIKE A REPRESSED VICTORIAN MAN FAWKKKK WHEN Y/N SAW HIM COME OUT THE POOL?!?! MASSIVE L FOR TUMBLR USER GRINDSET
i want that smut scene injected in my fucking veins btw. legiterally feels like a gift from the gawds to have my fav writer write about my fav mans 🫡 i lost my shit so many times when reading like when chan got all flustered about not having condoms and WHEN Y/N SAID “MINE”……YEAH IT’S OVER FOR ME GIRLIES LMFAOOO miss y/n is down catastrophic prehistoric paleolithic for channie i #understand ha
THE LAST PART HAD A BITCH SWEATING BTW,,, LEE KNOW BE KNOWIN 🫣🫣 THE WAY HE WAS ACTING GOT ME FAWKED UP I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MADE YR MEOW MEOW DISLIKE Y/N?!?! MISSUS RIN WIT THE TWISTS ND TURNS
apawlogies for all this eye amn’t responsible for the person i become when i read yr fics,,, lit rally shaking moaning throwing up for part 3 I CAN’T WAIT ILYSM QUEENIE
MY DEAREST DARLING GRINDSET…WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN ㅠㅠ you always leave me giggling like a schoolgirl over your messages thank you so much for taking the time to read it and send in your thoughts!! i can’t say it enough seriously ♡
SECRET GRINDSET LORE…i want to say i’m glad you related as the reader but in this case i’m very sorry if it brought up any unpleasant memories for you 😭 take me w you we are on our way to run over the reader’s emotionally neglectful weasly lil ex!!! and i’m so touched you think the emotions were conveyed properly…i feel like that’s smth i need to improve on so it’s a huge compliment to me that you felt that way!
i’m so thrilled you like binnie and the reader’s relationship 🥰 she really does just adore him and support him despite all their bickering they are besties!!! HAHAHA that pool scene was truly so self-indulgent i know it was akin to fanservice but ykw…shirtless channie getting flustered was a must! DOWN PALEOLITHIC…HELP SHE ABSOLUTELY IS!!! she’s got it so bad for him if it were anyone else i’d be like girl…stand UP! but it’s channie so i think she gets a pass <3
lino is AWARE‼️ my meow meow…i have to admit it was tough making him a lil cold to the reader when i live my life wearing lino-loving lenses LMAO but please do not think ill of him…he has his reasons…(ominous)
please don’t apologize i’m not kidding when i say reading your feedback makes my heart soar!! you are so observant of every little thing it means a lot to me 😭💗 i’m so glad you enjoyed this part and that you’re looking forward to the next!! i love u so much MWAH
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Runaan@NYCC 2021 AU headcanons
If Runaan actually attended in person with the characters voiced by the VA's who will attend: gosh the muns got self-indulgent, this is long
Runaan leaves home for NYCC 2021 and sends Ethari a single Pleading Face emoji every time he thinks of him
Ethari gets 2472496 Pleading Face emojis while Runaan is away
Runaan brings his favourite book(s) with him to keep him company and also for Serotonin
Rayla mentions this to Callum
Runaan is all WHy did you Tell the HUMAN
but Callum did the exact same thing
Runaan is unexpectedly supported and he's not sure he likes it
they also make a plan for what he (and Rayla) can do if he ever gets very overwhelmed
Ethari@Rayla: Rule #1 is, do not let him shoot anyone
Rayla; *very serious nod*
he rehearses what he'll say at the panel beforehand, using flash cards
and some of the cards say things like "Thank you" bc Ethari worries he'll forget
Ethari color coding the flash cards for "Social" and "Informational" so Runaan can flip through them if he's put on the spot
he also asks Ethari what he can mention about him+what's off limits bc he doesn’t want to make Ethari feel exposed or anything
Runaan: please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a
host: so let's open it up for a little Q&A now-
Runaan, internally: *bleep*
Under the table he starts flicking through his flash cards
he doesn't realize there's no tablecloth and everyone can see him do it
he watches the recording of it later to find all his faults but Rayla sits right next to him and she's all, "Yes yes they saw you and guess what, no one assassinated you over it, it's okay!"
Runaan goes Soft™
it's like he can feel Ethari there with him through Rayla's words
he has to thank her but words aren't his style so he offers to let her drag him out of the hotel for the first time that trip
ten steps outside and he has regretti
but he promised and his honor is at stake now so he keeps going
Rayla takes him to a bookstore
its slightly outside his comfort zone but it's quiet, and the city streets are so noisy
Ethari texted her a list of recharge spots, and one was a bookstore, with a reading nook, so she takes him there and they curl up on pillows and hammocks for a while
Another time they go out to a coffee shop at 3am
Runaan sends Ethari a Pleading Face emoji
Ethari replies with “!!” and “IT’S 3AM GO TO SLEEP YOU HAVE A PANEL IN THE MORNING”
Runaan just sends him another Pleading Face
Runaan has noise cancelling earshrooms if he needs them
Ethari wears them while he hammers
Ethari sends Runaan jokes to distract him just before his panels start
And Runaan lies down at night to talk to Ethari with his phone near his ear so it feels like back home when Ethari cuddles him
Ethari sending his own homemade "good luck" memes just before Runaan’s panel, so Runaan can fall back on showing them to the audience if he gets nervous, which he does, and they LOVE it, and Runaan is like, “I can see my husband has some support in the human lands, I'll be sure to tell him,” and the room cheers and Runaan is like "Aaaaa this is making me feel so seen but also yes, my husband deserves all the support"
Runaan sleeps surrounded by like 8 extra pillows in the bed so he can feel as snuggled as when Ethari's actually there
and one is Ethari's
Ethari lending Runaan his scarf bc it smells like him
and Runaan not only sleeps with it right near his nose but he wears it during the panel
Runaan wearing his serious face at the panel and answering hard or angsty questions, and the whole time he has earshrooms in and their lil stems are pokin out of his ears
If Runaan is here then all the other characters with VAs at NYCC are also here, so it’s a panel of actual characters
Viren using chopsticks to try and steal one of Runaan's earshrooms out of unbridled curiosity, and Runaan just. takes them away from him. without looking over. and slaps them on the table like. no, bad human, do not steal my earshrooms while I'm talking.
Claudia's flipping through a book but it's a recipe book and she's looking up mushroom soup
Ethari made Runaan an anti-dark magic charm so he's safe and no one can use it on him, so he feels safe attending the panel at all
someone asking about Lachir and Runaan just brightening
also pspsps that person is @hoothalcyon
Runaan goes off for ten minutes unprompted and uninterrupted about his moonstrider, it's about as animated and excited as anyone has ever seen him
Clauds over on the side making big heart eyes
she asks if he has a picture and he says yes and she bounces over to him and squeals loudly
Rayla texts Ethari just then and Ethari gets a FaceTime call going so everyone can see Lachir in person back home, because ofc she is fine and alive
and Lachir looks derpily at the camera like "wat dis"
She do the blep, sniffs camera, makes it smudgy
Ethari laughing and protesting off screen
the entire panel and audience is all "awwwwww"
Viren loudly demanding a cute pet so people will like him too
Runaan does a discreet lil happy stim and it's so discreet that barely anyone catches it except one or two ND's who are like aaaaa
Rayla slipping behind Viren and putting an adoraburr on his ear tho
"One cute pet, courtesy of Xadia! You've had your Adorapox vaccinations, right?" she chirps sassily
yes the pox look like adoraburrs
you are very contagious and very adorable
Janai, someone asks her about Amaya and she gets flustered and Runaan feels seen
audience question during the Q&A: Runaan, who would win in a fight between you and Janai?
Janai, immediately: Me.
Runaan: Her.
Janai flexes, literally
Runaan is happy to give her the spotlight, which is why he lied, bc ofc he thinks he could take her, he'd do it at night and he'd steal her sword first, obviously
nowhere in the question did it say "fair" fight
Amaya is in the audience and she keeps signing flirty things at Janai no matter how loud the room gets or who's asking who what, and Janai keeps getting more and more flustered and distracted
Runaan has one (1) moment where he's actually relieved his husband isn't there
Ethari would want to tease him so badly
Q: Runaan, are you a good dancer?
Runaan: I'm passable, with the right partner.
Q: So can you show us some moves?
Runaan, blushing: Distinctly not.
whistling and clapping ensue
Rayla jumps up and grabs Callum's hand and says, "I can show you some moves!"
and they dance very sweetly and cutely with some basic Moonshadow moves
and Runaan is like "I can't tell if this is worse"
Q: Runaan, how did your marriage proposal go?
Runaan, after a long flustered moment: ...Successfully. *taps his horn cuffs*
Q from someone wanting to know how to follow Runaan on social media: Runaan, you're amazing, where can we find you?
Runaan: The Silvergrove, but you can't actually-
Q: No I mean, what if we want to follow you?
Runaan: You'd need to know the key dance, and that's protected information. Also, stalking isn't nice.
Q: But you stalk people.
Runaan: *dramatic eyebrows* And it isn't nice.
Next Q: Has Ethari ever gotten hurt, and what did you do?
Runaan: *crushes water bottle*
Host: Okay another question then!
his answers would be really short if he did not feel comfy interacting, which is probably most of the time
Rayla took away Runaan's bowblade before the panel started
Runaan: but that's my emotional comfort trick weapon
Rayla: No. Ethari's Panel Rule #1. No stabbing or shooting people.
they pass a weapons display in the artist alley and someone made a replica of the Bloodborne bowblade and Runaan’s like, hm that looks familiar
Runaan wandering the con and talking to all the cosplayers with cool looking weaponry tho
he takes pics for Ethari
Runaan wandering the con and asking Runaan cosplayers, "So who are you supposed to be?" bc he genuinely doesn't know
he doesn't think he should be in the pictures for security reasons but he takes pix of Rayla posing with everyone dressed as Runaan
social media gets flooded with pix of his hair from the back though
#itssosoft trends on Twitter
Rayla sets up a pic where half a dozen happy fans get to brush Runaan's hair at the same time, and he's stuffing his face with moonberry surprise so he doesn't get nervous
it actually makes him look happy and social and Ethari is like HOW, HOW DID YOU MANAGE THIS, MAGIC
people shyly approach him and ask if he and Ethari can adopt them and he says yes
he ends up in a coffee shop zone with a couple dozen people gathered around and tells them the importance of found family in Moonshadow culture and he doesn't understand why they're all crying
Rayla teasing Runaan and telling him to tell a pirate story
Runaan is like, "Spoilers for Season 5"
some superfan nerd like mun tries to get him to admit how much he knows about Xadia and history and the show's plot, and he does that one line that all stabby people say. "I could tell you. But then I'd have to kill you."
he gets half a dozen volunteers and he is so concerned
Runaan, Protector of Secrets
Soren starts to spill about 14% of a secret and from across the entire con hall a green fletched arrow just zips by
Soren is like "You know what, never mind"
Cracky: Viren runs through the room looking for protection, and Runaan is like ugh fine who's after you this time, and Viren's all, "No one, my children are just being so silly and I just need a break for five minutes, can we please have a grownup conversation about something serious and angsty, please I’m actually begging you"
Runaan spots the adoraburr on Viren's ear and he's like, "Adoraburrs get lonely if they're alone," and he puts another one on Viren's other ear
and then a bunch more so they stack like a hairband and they're happier
Runaan just smirks and walks away
the adoraburrs start squeaking to each other and Viren is like, "Ugh, I preferred my children's terrible puns" and the adoraburrs get huffy and all hop down and abandon him
he does not in fact get adorapox because Viren believes in inoculation
some attendees would try to convince Runaan to "seek asylum" in NY and not return to Xadia or something, and he'd be like "But. Ethari."
they remind him that if he goes back he has to wait in a coin, and he doesn't get it
"Wdym. Ethari is there. Not here. I have to be there."
"BUT. COIN."
"BUT. ETHARI."
Rayla's like, I ain't Naruto running all the way back
She clicks a car fob and there's a *boop boop* noise
and this hovering coin like Tenser's Floating Disk shows up and they hop onto it and surf into the distance
Rayla shouts "SPOILERS FOR SEASON FOUR I KNOW WHO DIES AND IT’S-"
and Runaan is like "RAYLA DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO SHOOT YOU, I COULDN'T DO IT LAST TIME AND I CAN'T DO IT NOW, DON'T GET ME IN TROUBLE I SWEAR TO THE M-"
talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, everyone hopes they come back next year too
#NYCC 2021 headcanons#runaan#ethari#rayla#moonfam#viren#claudia#soren#janai#amaya#tdp crack#this is so self indulgent and we do not apologize pls enjoy
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Prompt 138 and 189 for Dames pls🥺🥺
138. "Were you just masturbating?" and 189. "I don't know what to do." / "Then let me teach you," with Damian Wayne.
i claimed i was going to start writing shy readers, then i immediately wrote the boldest reader ever 🤰 that’s my legacy. set when Damian still lives at the manor at about 19 <3
The house was suspiciously quiet. You knew that Bruce and Alfred would be gone, but considering how your texts were left on delivered, Damian had probably forgotten you were coming over. Or, some grand adventure had carried him away for the night. You tried to brace yourself for disappointment as your footsteps padded through the echoing halls of the house. Worse case scenario, Damian had forgotten and you’d get to make dinner and spend time with Alfred, like last time.
Even after being Damian’s girlfriend for several months, the Manor still intimidated you. It’s structure was confusing and sound travelled oddly, like it was cushioned by the breath of the Wayne family ghosts. You weren’t freaked out, per se. But you did sneak a little quieter while looking for Damian.
When you couldn’t find him in the library or with his pets in the observatory, your last option was his room. Again, you were daunted with the task of remembering which door was Damian’s, since they all looked the same.
A muffled sound drew you to the middlemost door in the hall. Damian was the only one who lived at home anymore, so it had to be him.
Still spooked by the rest of the house, you took the handle and eased it open as quietly as you could. Damian could be napping. He could be painting, or sketching, and neither would make a good moment to disturb him. He could be—
Touching himself. Naked.
Damian had just gotten out of the shower. His bronze shoulders were dotted with water drops, and his short, tousled black hair was shiny and damp. There was a sexy, tired edge to his face that told you he’d had an awful day - then it broke into shy bliss when his thumb brushed his tip. One hand held him up, sitting at his bedside with his legs spread and a towel open under his thighs. He was stunningly hard. The long, girthy dick that you’d only glimpsed on accident before sat awkwardly in Damian’s hands, and it occurred to you that this was the first time he’d ever done this. He’d never pleasured himself before.
Not once. If you thought about it (and you did, often), Damian seemed too prude and impersonal to satisfy himself that way. It was more in character for him to beat on a punching bag for a couple hours instead of destressing... like this.
You locked your surprised gasp in your throat, arm jerking to slam the door. A thousand apologies came to mind. But you couldn’t lie to yourself.
It was hot, and you wanted to watch.
This, of course, was right when Damian noticed you. Before you could blink, he was across the room, the towel was around his waist again and he was snarling at you, face explosively red. Damian cursed in Arabic. He moved to slam the door in your face, spitting in shame, but you were in the way of the frame. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor.
Your boyfriend, with his moist muscles, his sexy scars, getting a hard on for you... Thinking about you a little too deeply in the shower, and emerging to resolve it himself... Damian had only gotten turned on with you once before - you’d been making out, hands in each other’s shirts and tongues in each other’s mouths, only for him to suddenly bolt up and disappear. You wondered what he’d been thinking about. Or even better, who.
Stupidly, you asked, “...Were you just masturbating?”
“No, I was battling Clayface,” Damian snapped. “What do you think I was doing, L/N?”
“Wait!” You yelped, but you couldn’t understand why he’d want to. “Was... Is this your first time doing that?”
Damian glared at you hard enough to steamroll you, shame leaking out of his pores. If you dared to look between you - and you did - he was still painfully hard, and so, so big. Drool pooled into your mouth without your permission, and you had to audibly swallow it to be able to speak again. When Damian realized where you’d peeked, he blanched. He was still soaking wet. (You probably were, too).
He shuffled in place, and did something that surprised you. Damian avoided your eyes. “Why should you care? And - and what are you even doing here?”
“You texted me that you missed me last weekend. You wanted to teach me chess, and I think you said that we could talk about the book we’re reading together,” you babbled. “We... we made plans for today? It’s okay if you don’t remember... um, it looks like you had a very hard day...”
To help your predicament, you added with a sigh, “...Very hard.”
Damian cleared his throat. He put a hand on the doorframe beside you, bicep raised by your face. “...I - I did. Miss you.”
Again, you gestured to his towel. “I can tell.”
He shot you a flat look that very clearly read, not funny. Damian forced himself to stand still, at a total loss for words beyond that point. To you, it looked like an opening.
“Maybe I could...” you hooked your finger into the waist of his towel, moving deeper into his space, “help you with that?”
Damian smelled like pure sex. Beneath that was his heady bodywash and shampoo, which floated off him like his humidity did, intoxicating and full of flavor. It was like stepping into the radius of a love spell. You already loved Damian, but the heat coming off of him made you want to show him how much.
His expression was demure. Damian lifted his chin to snatch up his remaining dignity, and you didn’t miss his sacrifice of vulnerability. “...Yes. I didn’t... I didn't know what to do.”
Damian’s answer winded you. Your sudden role-reversal was strange, but the newness was welcome. Usually, you were the embarrassed one that Damian was teaching, so an opportunity to teach him - especially about something like this - seemed irresistible. And Damian admitting that he wasn’t equipped for something? He might as well have dropped down on one knee and given you a ring.
“Then let me teach you.”
He allowed you to slide past him, and quietly, aware of his self-indulgence, shut the door with a click. Damian shuffled back to his bed and sat down, chewing his lip. As cute as he was when nervous, you wanted him to enjoy this, so you gifted him a warm, sweet kiss before you eased your hand around his thigh. Damian returned it with a muffled hum, warmed by the taste.
You both sighed. The stress seem to leave his frame like air out of a beaten balloon, relaxing his back. Still, his fingers twitched at his sides, and only more so when you chased your kiss to your knees and encouraged him to lay back.
He had the courage to watch, so you found the charisma to ask him, “Comfortable?”
Damian nodded, shy.
“Can I touch you, beautiful?”
Again, Damian closed his eyes and shivered out a gruff yes.
Opening the towel was a gift within itself. Damian’s bulge practically opened it up on it’s own, popping free, unrestrained. If it seemed big before, it was huge in your palm. Just holding it made Damian hiss. His cock was proud and freshly cleaned, begging to be tasted. A string of drool slid off your tongue and pooled around his rosy tip, making Damian gasp and wince. You rolled the wetness down his veiny shaft, reveling in his little noises, the way his toes and fingers curled in delight. Not once did you forget that you were the first person to ever touch him like this - neither did Damian, who looked at you like he would do anything to be touched.
“Like this,” you whispered.
The shape of the tip was made for your mouth. Once he was nice and slick, that was the first place you took him, curling your tongue around his dripping, bulbous head. Damian melted, shoulders first. Taking even a little bit of him into your mouth required your lips to wrap around him, and you sucked until the fit was snug - an inch or two in. Otherwise he hung in your hand, desperate to be squeezed. You closed his shaft in your fist and twisted, hastened by pre-cum and spit, until Damian’s thighs tensed into rock.
Finally, you took his closest hand curled it around his cock. With his knuckles under your palm, you showed Damian how to guide himself into your mouth, and how to do it without you. His chest puttered up and down with every drag, his hand working at a dangerous pace. Soon, he was a pro with enthusiasm. Damian met your mouth with his hand every time.
With a shaken sputter of your name, Damian came. Like a dam, he flooded into your mouth, filling and filling until it felt like you’d drank an entire cup of his cum. It drizzled over your chin and down your neck, which fluttered with every breath and mouthful you gulped down.
“I-I think I understand, now,” Damian said, throat hoarse and breath spent, “but just in case... Would you mind showing me that again?”
#damian wayne smut#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x reader smut#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne#dc smut#dc comics smut#dc comics#dc
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studying ~ bo x reader
Description:
Just a little self-indulgent Bo x Reader drabble.
You're a stressed college student and Bo helps you study.
Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!
Word Count: 1,046
This is the first time I've published a Bo fic so pls be kind tysm :')
xxx
The soft knock on your door did little to pull you from your spot on the couch, under a blanket, surrounded by piles of paper - not that it mattered. Just seconds after the knock, the door opened, and you listened to the familiar footsteps of your boyfriend as he walked in your direction.
“Oh, honey,” he sighed, kneeling in front of you, pulling your blanket down just slightly from your face so he could meet your eyes.
You made the decision, in your mid-twenties, to go back to college after dropping out the first time round. At first, it felt like a great decision - you were acing your classes, you enjoyed all the material, and it almost felt easy. A year in, though, things were headed a little south. Your work was piling up, the classes were becoming a drag, and you had no motivation whatsoever to tackle any of the tasks on your list. And that’s how you ended up here: on the couch, hiding under a blanket, textbooks and paper all over the coffee table and floor, crying like a kid doing math homework.
Releasing the blanket from your grip, you didn’t react to Bo’s presence, and knowing how much stress you were under, that didn’t bother him. He raised a hand to your cheek, wiping a few stray tears away with his thumb, and you fixed your eyes to his face - his furrowed brows and worried expression.
“What can I do?” Bo asked, a genuine willingness to help take some of the weight off you. That alone was enough to set you off, and Bo was quick to pull you into his arms, joining you on the couch. For a few moments, he held you in silence as you cried, stroking your hair and placing kisses on top of your head, before he switched to gentle hushes and reassurances. “I’ve got you, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot. I’m here.”
“It’s so hard!” You sobbed, fingers grasping at his shirt for comfort. “I just can’t do it…”
He hushed you again, and you felt him shake his head, “I know it’s hard, honey, but that’s not true. You can do it. You’re just overwhelmed, and that’s okay.
Your thoughts were way beyond incoherent, as were your words, so you just cried and let Bo hold you - which he was happy to do for as long as you needed him to. The sound of his heartbeat through his chest began to settle you, and gradually your breathing matched his. Before long, your tears subsided too and you finally had it in you to pull away and look up at him. “I’m sorry,” you started, but he was quick to dismiss any attempt at an apology.
“We’re not doing that,” he said simply, “you don’t have anything to be sorry for. All you have to do is sit right here whilst I get you a drink and order us some food, and then we’ll get through this together, okay?”
X
The next hour was spent side by side on the couch eating your favourite food, in the company of your favourite person - it was almost enough to make all your stress fade away. Almost.
When your food was finished and the dishes washed, it was time to start tackling your long list of to-dos, and the stress came flooding back almost immediately, your heart threatening to pound its way out of your chest. Bo, observant as ever, reached out a hand and placed it on your knee as you both sat cross-legged on the floor, giving you a reassuring squeeze.
“Alright, where are we starting?” He asked, “Let’s get something easy out the way, yeah?”
You nodded, taking a breath, eyes scanning the piles of paper and folders scattered on the table. “I need to write out some flash cards,” you sighed.
“Okay, that’s easy enough,” he agreed, passing you a pen and highlighter with his free hand.
With Bo by your side, you completed your flash cards within just twenty minutes, and he rewarded you with a sweet kiss to your temple. “See,” he said, leaving you one more kiss, “you’ve got this. What next?”
“Essay plan? For my literature essay.”
Bo nodded, watching as you reached for your notebook and the book you were studying, a smile appearing on his face as he watched you jump right in - writing out the essay title, and planning out each point you would make. After a while, he stood from the floor to make you both yet another drink to keep you going, resuming his spot on the floor.
Over the course of the next three hours, Bo helped you analyse more of your literature texts, research for your upcoming presentation, and organise your notes into folders. Eventually, you both retired to the couch where Bo laid back and let you get comfortable on his chest as he promised to read you the next chapter of the book you were studying.
“...Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset,” Bo read, but the steady beat of his heart had lulled you to sleep long ago. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Bo said softly, brushing his fingers down your back to wake you gently, “you wanna go to bed?”
You hummed a response, listening as Bo closed the book and placed it with the, now much smaller, stack of paperwork.
You don’t quite recall how you got to bed - whether Bo had carried you or perhaps you’d stayed awake long enough to walk, no doubt with Bo’s arm around your waist - but you were awake enough to feel Bo settle down in bed beside you, pulling the blanket up over your shoulder before he shuffled close, draping an arm over you.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, shuffling forward to rest your forehead on Bo’s chest, “for helping me.”
“Of course - you did good. I’m proud of you.” Bo responded, voice low - barely above a whisper.
“Love you, Bo.”
Placing a kiss to your head, exhaling out of his nose just slightly - amused by your determination to not let sleep get you just yet. “I love you, too.”
And with that, you slept - the first stress-free sleep you’d had in a long time.
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Hi! Could you do an azriel x reader where they have a huge argument but it ends with fluff? Thank you!
pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)
warnings: mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, shouting, swearing and a butt ton of angst but with some fluff at end
a/n: this is kinda self indulgent because i’m vvv depressed rn and for some reason angst rlly makes me feel better so i hope u enjoy!! pls comment it rlly means the world <3
—————————————————————————-
You knew Azriel was stressed. His hands clenched, lips red from excessive chewing, his gaze stormy and sharp words hurting anyone that pried to deep. You knew you should leave him alone and let him finish whatever he needed to do, but it had been a week and while you had noticed he was stressed, he seemed oblivious to your pain.
You had woken up a week ago with a heavy head, your entire body weighing you down, making everything seem too loud and too bright. The first day you had laid in bed all day, barely eating and when Azriel found you hours later he simply presumed you had just taken an early night.
But you couldn’t sleep.
A few days later you were practically withering away. You had barely eaten in days; you couldn’t sleep, and you missed your mate horribly. Every part of you ached as you dragged yourself into the shower, desperate to scrub away the layer of dirt you could feel on your skin. You stood under the scalding water, hands moving on their own accord to wash your skin, your head moving a million miles an hour as your eyes itched from the hot tears that were mixing with the even hotter water.
You leaned a hand against the counter when you got out, your legs shaky and weak from the lack of food you had consumed, you considered just getting back into bed, but you knew you needed help. You had gotten like this before and it always ended in some form of unhealthy coping mechanism, but you had promised Azriel you wouldn’t do that again so you instead you pulled your clothes on again, not bothering to dry your hair and dragged your feet to the kitchen.
When you didn’t find him there you frowned but went about making yourself some toast to quell the nausea brewing in your stomach. With your food you padded through your house but couldn’t find him anywhere, feeling more hot tears spill as you realised he was out.
You knew his job was hard, but your heart ached as you realised he truly hadn’t noticed the change. You sent a pulse down the bond as you sank to the floor in tears, your head heavy and heart numb. You didn’t get any reply, so you tried sending another one, to no avail, almost as if he were waving away your cries for help.
You cried for about fifteen minutes, before standing and going back through to your room, sitting on your bed, and staring at a blemish in the floor as you fiddled with the toy you had kept since you were young. You felt guilty for the thoughts running through your head, never wanting to make Azriel alone but feeling so lost in your own head that all you wanted to do was die, to feel the lightness you vaguely remembered enjoying as a child. You were standing to move to your bathroom, itching for your razor when you heard the front door open, relief flooding through you that he was finally home.
You walked out the room, fiddling with the sleeves of your oversized hoodie as you went to meet him. He was standing in the kitchen, shoulders tight and your heart panged at the sight of him, stressed and tired. You considered turning and leaving him but remembered that he told you to always come to him when your head was being cruel, so you shuffled forward, wrapping your arms around his back, and pressing your face between his shoulder blades, breathing easier as you inhaled him, your heart feeling some form of peace at last.
But he shrugged you off, moving away from you and you felt white hot dread fill you.
“Not right now (y/n), I’m busy.” His voice was cold as he made himself a cup of coffee, not offering you one as he usually would.
“I- I know I just haven’t seen you in a while.” You fought to keep your voice steady, but he didn’t seem to notice or care about the breaks. You felt your breathing getting deeper and your hands were tingling as the panic rose in you.
“That’s because my jobs fucking important!” he shouted and you flinched, tears swarming in your eyes as you wiped your sweating hands on your hoodie, stepping to him.
“But you said I should come to you if-“ he cut you off by slamming his hands down, shoulder hunched and glare furious as he shouted at you.
“Will you just fuck off! I have important shit going on.” You stopped where you were standing as he picked up his mug, storming out the room and slamming the door to his office behind him.
Tears spilled out of your eyes and you stumbled as you sat down, legs and hands going numb as you hyperventilated, the panic attack hitting you full force as you sobbed into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds so you wouldn’t bother Azriel anymore than you already had. You counted your breaths as you dug your nails into your palm, trying to calm yourself down and thankfully, slowly your breathing began to return to normal as you wiped at your eyes.
Of course he didn’t care. No one else does, you don’t deserve him, and you should be thankful that you have someone so good to you. Half your brain was arguing in his favour as the other half protested, but he hurt you, you can’t let him in again, this is what happens when people get to close.
Your head kept arguing with itself as you pulled yourself upright, walking through to your room and climbing under the covers of your bed, crying yourself to sleep, head pounding and somehow heavier than before.
--
You woke up to an empty bed and pounding headache. You dragged yourself out from under the covers and went to receive a glass of water and some painkillers, finding Azriel in the kitchen.
He smiled softly at you when you came in, but you averted your gaze, going to the sink and filling a large glass.
“Would you like a coffee?” he asked, his hand coming to your hip, but you shook your head, pulling out of his grip and clearing your throat as a weighted silence filled the room. “I’m sorry I shouted at you,” he muttered, desperate to get you to look at him again, but you just turned away, muttering a small “it’s okay,” under your breath and leaving.
You walked back to your room and sat down on the bed as you sipped your water and taking two painkillers. Azriel followed you in soon after, guilt gnawing at his insides and he stood quietly and watched as you pulled the jumper you were wearing over your head, pulling on a clean one.
He inhaled sharply as he saw the change in your body, moving closer to you.
“Have you been eating?” he asked, and you closed your eyes, facing away from him and staying silent as you no longer trusted your voice or temper. “Baby, you have to eat.” While he said it in a pleading manner, your brain heard it as angry, thousands of comments pertaining to how worthless you were springing to the forefront of your mind.
“It’s kinda hard to eat when you want to die.” You snapped and Azriel felt a pang go through his heart.
“(y/n). You promised me you would come to me if you felt that way,” he was frustrated, hating himself for getting annoyed at you but angry that you were ignoring him.
You laughed bitterly and you went to the bathroom, scrubbing the old makeup of your face, “I did. Or at least tried to,”
You stormed past him, pulling on a pair of joggers before moving to leave the house, but Azriel caught your arm.
“You haven’t done anything stupid have you?” he asked, worry and guilt filling him as your eyes filled with tears, finally looking at him enough that he could see the dark circles surrounding your hollow eyes, your skin dull and lacking its usual dewy finish.
“Why do you care.” You pulled your arm from his grip, stepping back and creating space between the two of you.
“Because you’re my mate and I need to know that you’re okay.” He tried to move closer again, but you stepped back so he stopped.
“Your mate huh? Then why haven’t I seen you in a fucking week, even though we fucking live together! Why are you only just noticing that I’m struggling!?” each word hit him like a blow and only his decades of training stopped him from bursting into tears, falling to his knees and begging your forgiveness.
“I was struggling so much, I couldn’t leave my bed, I wasn’t eating, I wanted to kill myself and as soon as I tried to reach out for help you shut me down.” You head was bowed, tears flowing freely as you sobbed into your hand.
He stepped closer his arms wrapping around you as you sobbed into his chest, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so, so sorry,” he kissed your head, his heart cracking at your next muffled words.
“You only care now because you feel bad. I don’t need your sympathy.”
“No baby, I’m sorry. I care so much I was just tired and stressed last night and I know that’s not an excuse, but you have to know how much I care about you. I love you so much and I need you to be okay.” He tightened his arms around you, bringing the two of you to kneel on the floor.
“I’m not okay Az,” you muttered, and his chest tightened as he stroked your back, allowing you to cry for as long as you needed.
“I know baby, but it’s okay. We’ll get through this, together.” He kissed your forehead lightly and you tilted your head to look at him, eyes wide and glassy with tears. He kissed one of the tears that was slowly trailing down your face away and you sniffed, before he kissed you lightly. He picked you up and carried you over to the bed, the two of you lying down together, tucked safely into his arms as he whispered sweet nothings and apologies to you as you fell asleep. Tears drying on their own.
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birds (not) of a feather || keigo takami.
* pairing: hawks x fem pro-hero!reader
* genre: canonverse(???), terribly indulgent smut, pwp, enemies w benefits
* words: 3,111
* warnings: i just packed a shitload of kinks into this, dom!hawks, sub!reader, daddy kink, dirty talk, semi-public sex (a bathroom), quirk play aka feather play (not tickling), reader is kiNda a brat, fingering, orgasm denial, cum eating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls.,., wrap it before you tap it irl), degradation, breeding kink, humiliation, dumbification, creampie, aftercare (duh), i’m so sorry for this i’ll finish my sfw angst thing now
* a/n: inspired by this text post... oh god, this is filthy. apologies for the slightly late update, but here it finally is!! @toishi is an absolute angel for proofreading this at like 1 in the morning. i hope you enjoy this! if you liked this, feel free to request anything you’d like to see from me <3
there was something about hawks that was infuriating. you couldn't tell exactly what was the breaking point; his messy hair, his plush smirk, or his eyes. his eyes, typically glazed over with a mixture of cockiness and devil-may-care hawtiness, were perhaps the most charming part to him, if you asked any fangirl. the markings around them only made him prettier, but infuriatingly so; and when you put together the entire package of 'hawks,' you got an extremely punchable person.
yet sometimes, during extremely rare instances - perhaps when the light hits him just right or when one of his feathers is placed just perfectly - the word 'punchable' is replaced with 'fuckable.' and when you say fuckable, you mean him fucking you. it only aggravates you more.
you can't recall exactly when you started hating him or exactly when you became fuckbuddies (well, more like fuckenemies), but what you can recall is that the closets at hawks' agency are unreasonably large. not that they can't be used to your advantage, on multiple occasions (especially when hawks ruts).
you're sitting next to hawks as some entrepreneur attempts to sell his ideas to market heroes and gain more profit. none of the pro-heroes sitting in the room seem particularly engaged. you're practically falling asleep; hawks' doodles on your notepad keeping you awake. you can't exactly complain, though the doodles take up space on an otherwise blank page, it's entertaining. you're far past gone being alert, however; your eyelids droop one last time before you see an oddly phallic shaped doodle behind your eyelashes. goddamn hawks.
"really?" you hiss at him, pushing his hand away.
he shrugged, lazily smiling. "you like it."
"like what? lewd imagery in my work notepad?"
"no." his voice drops an octave, fatally gravelly, "my cock."
you flush at his obscene language. "don't-" you whisper, but you're cut off by hawks' muffled giggles as he points to another one of his doodles. a rooster.
you purse your lips. ever-so immature, hawks.
"yeah, but i bet you like the first one a lot more, don'tcha, chickadee?" his pet name has your brain stuttering. "you like my cock so much, hm?"
"fuck you, hawks," you breathe.
"you can try, feather." his voice is dripping with cockiness. "i bet, even in professional times like these, you think about my cock. in business meetings, you look so professional, so serious, but little does everyone know - you're dreaming about my cock stretching your tight little cunt out, making you scream my goddamn name. i bet you salivate just thinking about my cock fucking you good, hm? isn't that right, chickadee?"
you huff, not meeting his eyes as you search for a witty comeback. your silence gives hawks' ego a boost; he smirks wider.
"you know it's true, huh?" he purrs. "you think of me wherever you go. in public, filing paperwork, when you touch yourself in bed... you just like it so much, you're my slut. who knew the nation's favorite pro-hero would drop to her knees to the sight of anyone's cock?"
"yeah, i touch myself whenever i think of you," you mutter saltily under your breath. you ignore the growing arousal in your panties at his provocative words.
hawks goes quiet, eyes wide.
"more specifically, i rub my temples because i get a headache because you're so damn awful."
"well fuck, dove," he chuckles. he leans in close to your ear. "maybe i'll give you something to think about."
a shiver curls itself down your spine. "hawks-"
he hushes you, jotting something in your notepad. he excuses himself from the room, leaving a feather laying on his seat in place of him. you read the note.
"women's bathroom, down the hall to the left. no one uses it."
a pump of adrenaline fills you; your heart skips a beat.
once you slip out, your heart plays a game of jump rope, the rhythm filling your ears. down the hall, to the left... you wonder what hawks has in store for you. your brain recreates images of past escapades you engaged in with the man; a quickie in his office, another in an alley, and once, him fucking you just before a meeting. your panties grow damper, unable to mask the anticipation you feel within yourself.
"hi, sweetpea," hawks cooes as soon as you enter the restroom. "fancy seeing you here."
"you invited-"
"hush, i didn't give you permission to speak, did i?" he snaps. "good girls who behave are rewarded."
a whimper slips out of you, and you nod.
"safeword, birdie?"
"sunflower."
"good girl." he hums. "so obedient, once disciplined... maybe i should do this more. i bet you'd like that... being such a slut when anyone could walk in."
"hawks..." you start, but he doesn't have it.
the hero stalks toward you. if eyes could kill, you'd be murdered within seconds; his irises are dark, pupils blown, and a shadow has fallen over his face. he looks predatory like this - truly living up to his name. it's graceful, the self-control he assumes whence walking toward you.
said self-control is completely abandoned as soon as your bodies meet. you're completely enraptured in his shadow as the man loomed over you, his wings contributing greatly to the effect. he's the predator, and you're the prey.
his arm separates your neck from the wall, his hand clutching the back of your head. the free hand moves itself to caress your jaw in a strangely gentle manner, while his knee pushes its way in between your legs, making your upper thighs into a home. his hand nudges your head forward towards his, and then you're kissing him with such ferocity it's animalistic. tongues clash and you're no longer sure whose spit is whose; it dribbles down your chin the way blood drips from the thirsty lips of a vampire.
hawks growls - he actually growls - while he hastily unbuttons your top and slips his tongue into your mouth. you shamelessly grind down against his clothed pant leg, careless that your wetness will leave a stain.
he pulls away, a string of saliva snapping between you and leaving you two gasping for breath.
"fuck, fuck, baby bird," hawks wipes his mouth with his sleeve. his lips are swollen, their colour resembling a cherry lollipop with a sheen of gloss. damn, he's pretty. you never realized how good-looking a guy in a suit could be.
his eyes are darker than a raven's, and it looks as though he'll devour you whole.
"come." hawks gestures for you, walking towards the sinks and large mirror above them. as soon as you near a foot from hawks, he grabs you, one hand on your waist and the other on your throat.
"look at you..." he tsks, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. you're completely disheveled, hair a mess and eyes blown dark. your top is wrinkled slightly, your breasts peaking out through the unbuttoned gap and your skirt pushed up.
"so messy already..." the hand on your waist moves up and squeezes your breast, tweaking a nipple through your bra.
"you just fucking melt for me, like a good whore," he says.
oh, how you hate how easily hawks can win you over.
"fuck you," you scoff half-heartedly. "are you gonna fuck me, or not? we don't have all day."
"won't be a problem, lovebird," he says breezily. "judging by how much you fucking soaked my pant leg, i could have you coming undone without my cock even touching your dirty cunt.
you glance at his thigh, which has a blatant dark spot on it, and feel your heart race in humiliation. you can only stay silent, knowing he's right. the sensation in your core is painfully obvious to you, as if taunting you more.
"obeying now?" he teases, a wicked smile gracing his face. "bend over the counter, sweetpea."
you huff, obliging. hawks deftly moves his fingers, unbuttoning your shirt. you shiver, your hot skin colliding with the cold, unforgiving marble.
"spread your legs - good, good, like that..." his breath tickles your ear, "you like how the air touches your sopping pussy? how exposed you fucking feel, all spread out for me when anyone could walk in? me, the number 2 pro-hero..."
god, he was so cocky it was infuriating.
"shut up," you grumble.
"what?" his voice is sharp, cutting clean through the air. "is that anyway to treat your daddy?"
you fucking hate the title. you hate how hawks harnesses it as his own, how he so personifies the word - how good it fits him, sounding like sugar off his lips.
two of his fingers meet your clothed folds. "answer me, birdie."
"n-no," you squeak out.
"no, who?" he spits.
"no, daddy."
you inch your head up to look in the mirror, and hawks is smiling.
"what to do with you, what to do with you..." he sounds gleeful, sadistic undertones tinting his words with a faded rose red. so pretty, yet so painful. your head goes back down onto the counter, your cheek pressed against it.
"naughty birds deserve punishment, don'tcha think?"
you can't find it in yourself to form a coherent word; instead, a clumsy moan falls from your lips. hawks' fingers press harder against your cunt; you're sure they've gotten at least a little damp.
compromised in such a position, your senses make you suddenly aware of your surroundings; the way the counter digs into your hips, how the coolness is starting to fade under your body. you're aware of your every breath, the fluttering in your stomach every time hawks presses your clit. you're aware of the inherent eroticism of your acts, and how you don't really hate hawks; no, no, no - how he just infuriates you.
he's the ideal hero, in your eyes - laidback, charming, and yet so skilled at his work. it amazes you. one can only strive to be so multifaceted, and it explains his status as number 2 hero. you work so hard, yet he can achieve all the things you dream in half a heartbeat.
"let's get these out of the way." hawks, hooking a digit into the band of your panties, forces them down in an instant. you instinctively clench at the air which meets your nether lips, your juices leaking out of them like a honeyed nectar.
"so messy," hawks comments. "can't even control yourself without your panties. you like being such a slut for daddy, huh?"
you grumble in protest.
"huh?" his index and ring finger plunge into your pussy, making a loud squelching sound.
"d-daddy," you blurt a moan out, falling apart on his fingers.
"that's more like it, feather." hawks sets a moderate pace on your pussy, curling to hit your sweet spot. the noises from your cunt and mouth fail to cease, and you throw a hand over the latter to muffle your whimpers.
you start to feel a burning sensation rise in your stomach; a toe-curling, warm feeling like sunlight shining in the morning.
"daddy, daddy, hngg- i'm so close."
you're so close to the sunlight, to being showered in the blissful heat. just one more stroke and-
you're suddenly empty, and the light starts to slowly recede.
"daddy!" you complain, shifting your legs and rubbing your thighs together.
"bad birds get punishment," he shrugs. "though i must say... you like it when i bend you over the counter, huh? your little pussy is dripping all over it for me, and i've barely touched you... i bet you're getting off to this right now; when anyone could walk in, huh? filthy slut. you're already begging for more... hm, maybe i should make you lick up the mess you've made..."
"d-addy, no, i've taken my punishment, please let me cum..."
hawks sounded indifferent, as if he were merely studying his nails. "beg for it."
"wh-" you clench your hands in your skirt. you do not particularly enjoy begging - for anything or anyone. despite the pulsing in your cunt, and how hard it is not to give in, you don't want to give hawks the satisfaction of winning. "p-psh, didn't really need your cock anyway..." you grumble. you exhale quietly, calming the adrenaline pumping in your blood from the loss of your orgasm.
something in him changes, and a scarlet feather tickles your lips. you're confused; what does hawks want you to do?
"suck."
you exhale in confusion, blowing the feather away. "suck?"
you crane your neck up at the mirror to catch a glimpse of hawks. he looks deadly - there's no other way to put it. his eyes are sharply trained on you, his wings buff and towering over him. you think you see a bulge in his pants, straining for freedom.
"well?" the feather dusts your lips once again, teasing you to trap it in between your lips. your head drops, falling against the counter. you open your mouth, and the tip of the feather rests on your tongue. your lips close around it, and you hesitantly suck. you're not sure what you were expecting; it's a feather, soft and flimsy in your mouth.
you jolt at an indistinct tickling feeling against your clit. you look back, feather hanging out of your mouth, to see hawks leaning back on a stall. he's not within reach to touch you, so...
"hng!" the foreign object presses your clit. the pressure strengthens against your tight bundle of nerves, and you can feel your slick drip out of you even more. a feather; though hawks made the consistency a bit more solid. the feather pushes against your pussy like a seesaw, making you reach for your high. you shut your eyes tight, lost in the feeling and desperate for release. the feather drags up and down your cunt, eliciting lewd noises, while your lips are clamped shut around the feather in your mouth. saliva pools in your mouth the more the feather teases your wet sex, and the familiar build of tension starts in your stomach.
you yearn for the heat returned in full, to be so fulfilled in pleasure, and you rut against the feather in an attempt to reach your climax faster. the stimulation is suddenly gone, leaving you crying out.
"look at this," hawks sneers. a single, wet feather, dripping in a substance far thicker than water hovers in front of you. "open your mouth."
the feather slips out, and is replaced with a salty tasting one.
the taste of your arousal fills your tongue, and before you're given time to dwell on it, you feel warmth pressing against the back of your thighs. there's a clanking of metal, a shuffle of fabric, and you feel the tip of hawks' cock pressing against you.
"look at you, baby, so desperate for a fuckin' feather," he rasps in your ear. "should i show you how much better my cock is? hmm?"
you nod dumbly, the feather bobbing with you.
"fuck," he groans, pushing himself into your depths. "so wet, so- slick- goddamn baby bird, you like it when i stuff you full of this cock?"
you hum a noise against the feather in your mouth, agreeing. he slipped into your pussy smoothly, lubricated by the abundance of your slick. once in, snuggled in deep, something in the man's composure snaps; he thrusts mercilessly, pounding deep in you. his fingers hold your hips, bruising them, you're sure - and the pain is sweet, a sick lolly against your tongue.
"fuck, fuck, daddy's gonna fuck his babies into you, betcha'd like that, huh?"
you can't articulate your words properly with the feather in your mouth, but you attempt to agree. he doesn't care, continuing with his degradation.
"you're gonna give me my chicks, huh? be my bitch," he pants heavily. god, you can just imagine how he looks; hair falling onto his sweat-matted forehead, his eyes completely lascivious. a wanton moan spills from your mouth, and the feather falls, but hawks doesn't make notice of this. he continues to slam into you, pace unforgiving, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. squelching noises fill the bathroom, echoing off the walls.
you can only moan and clench around him unintelligently.
"look at you... all fuckin' stupid and obedient, all for daddy, hm? so willing to let daddy use you as a cumdump, daddy's personal- fucking- cumslut- but you like that, huh? your pretty pussy's clenching around me. you like being talked down to, don'tcha? such a dirty slut. look at that, you're drooling."
two of hawks' fingers shove themselves into your mouth, and you salivate around them. it's messy, you know, and spit trails down your chin.
"look at me, chickadee," he commands. you crane your neck to look at him, eyes wide. "fuck, so slutty," he grunts. "you really like this, don't you? fuck- exposing your fucking cunt to every guy, huh? being used as nothing but a filthy fucktoy?"
you shake your head rapidly in disagreement, cheeks heating up.
"no?" he chuckles darkly. "just my fucktoy, then?"
you reluctantly nod.
"my stupid lil baby... so pretty with daddy's fingers shoved in her mouth..." he coos, and a surprising, fuzzy feeling emerges from the praise.
his unoccupied hand reaches down in between your thighs to stimulate your clit, rubbing fast circles against the bud. warmth pools and ties a knot in your stomach. the sugared indulgence of release that you'd so craved comes into view; the knot tightening and tightening and you feel fit to burst.
"c-cum for me, baby bird, cum for me, y/n," he stutters, making a guttural sound in the back of his throat. the fingers in your mouth pull out, falling onto your hips.
the tight knot bursts into violent fireworks of ecstasy; your cunt gushes around hawks' cock, convulsing madly. the pleasure shatters you, and everything becomes a haze. you go limp against the counter, thighs shaking. you're not sure how much time has passed - hawks had been fucking you through orgasm, and, at one point, came as well.
"hey, feather," he whispers gently to you. "you did so well for me..." he strokes your back, making a plethora of calming coos and humming sounds
"did so well," you mumble.
"don't worry about anything, dove, i've got it all handled."
your thoughts are all fog, and you allow yourself to lean into hawks. this is one of the rare times you're vulnerable completely to him; at his mercy, after a particularly hard session. rather, it's one of the rare moments that your true feelings are revealed; how your hatred is baseless, built on jealousy and attraction you deny.
not that you'll admit it.
#hawks x reader#keigo takami smut#hawks smut#keigo takami x reader#bnha smut#bnha x reader#hawks#keigo takami#hawks headcanons#luna's writing#bnha headcanons#hawks imagines#keigo takami headcanons#keigo takami imagines#bnha drabble#pro-hero au#bnha oneshot#oneshots#hawks oneshot#hawks drabble#hawks fluff#bnha x female reader
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a penny for your thoughts.
pairing — han jisung x female! reader
genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time
synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands.
note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl
“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.
“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.
“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”
“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.
“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”
“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”
“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”
“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”
Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.
“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.
“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.
“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”
“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”
You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”
“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”
“Absolutely not.”
“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“
“No.”
“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”
“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”
This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”
Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”
“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”
“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.
“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”
“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”
In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.
In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.
In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.
However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.
In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.
The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.
There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.
The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.
But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.
“Let me crash here for the night.”
“No.”
“Let me crash here for the night, please.”
“My answer is still no.”
The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.
By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”
“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.
“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”
Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”
He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.
“Look, I know you don’t like me—“
“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.
“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”
That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”
“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”
You freeze.
“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”
“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.
Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“
“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”
You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”
That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.
“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”
“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.
Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”
The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—
“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”
That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.
“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.
The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.
Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”
If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”
You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”
“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.
“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.
Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.
“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.
“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.
The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.
You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.
“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.
Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.
Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”
You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.
He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”
That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.
As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!
You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.
You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.
Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”
That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.
“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.
“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”
The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.
“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.
He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.
When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.
Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”
For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.
“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.
“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—
Why the fuck did you even do that?
“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”
Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.
You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”
Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.
You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”
“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”
“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.
“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.
From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.
You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.
“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.
However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.
The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.
“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)
He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”
“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”
“Exactly.”
Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”
You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”
It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.
“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”
You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.
“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“
“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”
Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.
It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—
“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.
“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”
“No.”
You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”
“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”
The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.
“I thought you took care of it yourself!”
“Took care of what?”
“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”
You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”
“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“
“Also what?”
“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”
His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.
“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—
“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”
You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”
“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“So what if I am?”
A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.
There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.
You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.
Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.
“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.
“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.
“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.
“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“
Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”
Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.
“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”
The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.
A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.
Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”
“I want you to say it out loud.”
There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.
You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.
You don’t.
“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.
“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”
Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"
You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.
He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.
Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.
“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.
“I don’t know,” you whisper.
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”
The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.
Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”
“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.
“Just...?”
“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”
Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—
“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.
You do a double-take. What? What did he say?
A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.
“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“
“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.
“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”
“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.
An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”
“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”
That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.
You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.
It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.
It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:
1. You spend your days glued to your friends.
2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.
3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)
4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.
5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.
And then the cycle repeats.
But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.
But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.
But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—
You like Changbin, right?
“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.
Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”
“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”
“Yeah.”
“No!”
“You look like a clown.”
“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”
If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.
Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”
“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”
“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”
“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”
You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—
“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.
“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.
What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?
You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.
Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.
Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.
“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”
Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.
“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”
You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.
Something’s not right.
“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”
With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.
“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”
“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”
It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”
As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.
“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.
Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”
Silence.
“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.
Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.
“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.
You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”
It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.
The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.
You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—
You like him, right?
Things have changed.
You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.
That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.
You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.
Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.
The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.
“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.
Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.
“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.
You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).
“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.
Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”
“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”
He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”
“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”
“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”
The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.
“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.
Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”
Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.
Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.
It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.
You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”
Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.
“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”
You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.
Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”
“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”
Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.
You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”
He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.
But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.
“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.
You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”
That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.
The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”
The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.
Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.
“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.
“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.
It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.
He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.
“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.
The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.
The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.
Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—
This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.
“Then don’t,” you whisper back.
That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.
“Color?”
“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.
Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.
The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself. “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.
“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”
“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.
In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.
“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut.
“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.
In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.
The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.
It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.
It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.
“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”
“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.
Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”
“But you can read my mind.”
“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”
The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”
“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.
“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”
The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”
In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.
In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.
In another lifetime, another univer—
No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.
That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.
“Yeah, I’m yours.”
#i'm never writing a oneshot again this is too stressful for my heart#stray kids smut#skz smut#han jisung smut#jisung smut#stray kids dark hours#dom!jisung#sub!reader#jijiri.txt#smut.mine#i winged the ending so pls go easy on me dlskjflkjsa
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Bratty Indulgence
Just a reminder that this is aged up KiriBaku and A bit of NSFW feel since it does have BDSM tendencies.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OUR FAVORITE ANGRY BOY!!!
It just HAD to be the MOST stress-filled day that Bakugou had ever had to deal with at his hero agency. First, the morning started out with the barista messing up his order of a Frappuccino and blueberry scone. He did his best, this is Bakugou we are talking about, to not fly completely off the handle. With a sincere apology and promise from the manager of free beverages for the remainder of the week, Bakugou was satisfied. Then when he had arrived at the agency, Denki was his usual bright self and it was just TOO early to deal with right now.
"Morning, Kacchan! It is such a beautiful day on your Birth - MMPH!", Kaminari's eyes widened at the sudden hand placed over his mouth.
"Keep that mouth of yours shut, Dunce. None of these extras need to know that it is my birthday." , Bakugou glared as he pulled his hand away.
"Right right! Sorry man!", Kaminari held his hands up in submission as Bakugou turned and headed into his office.
Bakugou closed the door behind him and moved to sit back in his chair at his desk. He sighed in frustration at the long day that was ahead of him. In all honesty, he regretted not taking the day off like Kirishima had told him to do. Sometimes his stubbornness really did work against him. He then decided to pull out his cell phone and text his boyfriend.
"Did you really have to remind the extras that it is my birthday today? Now I am going to be bombarded by shitty "happy birthdays" all damn day.", Bakugou wrote Kirishima, not as angry about it as he was proclaiming to be.
Kirishima rolled his eyes fondly as he read over his boyfriend's aggravated text and replied back as he formulated a plan in his head.
"You will be fine, grouchy pants. We all appreciate and care about you so just get to deal with it ;)."
"Fiiiiiine……. But I am still going to bitch about it the ENTIRE time :P. Thank you…….very much, ya loser."
Bakugou smirked at the last text message he had sent to Kirishima. He knew his brattiness was going to get him into trouble. Luckily for him, that is exactly what he had wanted. It had been about 3 weeks since his last "correction" and he much needed the outlet.
The rest of the day had gone unbelievably uneventful, which had just upset Bakugou more. The only thing that really sated his aggression was the "Happy Birthdays" that he had complained about earlier. Now he was pleased to FINALLY go home to Kirishima and to what awaited him when he walked in. With a quick change into a black tank top, black sweat pants, and slip-off black shoes, Bakugou made a beeline for home. Opening up the door, Bakugou was greeted by Kirishima, arms folded with a smirk upon his face.
"Loser, huh? That is not a very nice thing to say to your boyfriend."
"Heh…and what are you going to do it about, loser?", Bakugou began to walk past Kirishima, smirking as he let the brattiness take full reign.
Kirishima unfolded his arms and quickly grabbed Bakugou's wrists and pulled him to his chest. Kirishima chuckled at seeing Bakugou's smirk and shook his head.
"Seems like you just can't wait for some correcting, can you? Well then……..since we can't just ask for what we want, like adults, this isn't going to be very nice."
Kirishima had then led Bakugou to their room, under-the-bed cuffs already visible and waiting for the guest of honor, on their king-size bed. Giving a firm nudge and stare of not to push his luck, Bakugou crawled onto the bed and set himself up in the bounds, except for his left arm.
"Good boy", Kirishima stated as he walked over and sat at Bakugou's left side, finishing his restraints, "Rules remain the same as last time. "Green" is good to go, "Yellow" is I need a break, "Red" is if something is wrong, "Quirk" is done for the night. So then, color?"
"Green. Just get on with it already, Ei. ", Bakugou fidgeted as the on-setting nerves began to take over.
"Ever so eager for your destruction, aren’t you?", Kirishima replied as he placed his fingers under the shirt and upon Bakugou's
bare sides, drawing teasing caresses along the goose-pimpled flesh.
"Sh-Shuhuhut up! D-Dohon't call mehehehe out lihihike thahat!", Bakugou squirmed at the teasing, both verbal and physical.
Kirishima smirked at how easily Bakugou had caved and immediately started giggling. Normally there was just a bit more coaxing but it had seemed Bakugou truly did want this. Happy to indulge, Kirishima fluttered and goosed along the sides and stomach of his giggly boyfriend.
"Oh? Sooooo don't call you out that you are just like your childhood best friend and LOVE being tickled into oblivion. Ooooooh I would never do that."
"Gehehehehe! Y-Yohohou are suhuhuhuch ahahahan ASS! Ahahahaha! NO! No no no no nohohohahahaha!", Bakugou pulled at his bonds to protect himself, but it was fruitless. He could only shake his head as those teasing fingers moved to his oblivion.
Kirishima grinned with playful evilness as he laid his weight over Bakugou's stomach and wiggled his fingers upon his uppermost most ribs. The sight before him was something to be greatly treasured. He watched Bakugou, head thrown back, back arched. and cackling up a storm as his worst spot was tasered without remorse.
"Heh heh heh! I am an ass, huh? Fine then…..I will be the ass that is going to make you sorry.", Kirishima chuckled as his fingers continued their assault on the tender spots upon both sides of Bakugou's ribs.
"SHIHIHIT!! NOHOHOHO!! Y-YOHOHOU CAN'T!! HAHAHAHAH!! YOU CAHAHAHAN'T!! AAHAHAHAHA!!"
"Oh? But I can, you see? You just can't stop me at all. Maaaaaaaybe some nice words will make me go somewhere else."
"PL-PLEHEHEHASE!! I DOHOHON'T WAHANT IT TOHOHO EHEHEND YET!! PLEHEHEHASE!!
"Since you have asked so nicely I will move somewhere else."
Kirishima smiled fondly down at Bakugou as he caught his breath. He pulled away from the blonde and moved higher up on the bed. The balled fists of his angry boy caught his eye and he nodded to himself, having chosen his next spot to play with. Kirishima reached forward and took Bakugou's left fist in his hands. In turn, Bakugou looked up at him and whined at Kirishima's next target but willingly opened his hand. Soon as the fingers were held back and an index finger drawing figures eights in his palm, he was lost to giggles again. Bakugou would never forget the day when his loveable boyfriend had found out that his palms were quite soft and incredibly ticklish to light touches. That whole night was filled with helpless giggles as his hands were held captive to teasing thumbs caressing while cruel arms and fingers held him captive.
"Gehehehehehe! Why? Why thahahat spohohot?", Bakugou tittered out as he shook his head side to side at the feather-light sensations.
"Because you have such adorable giggles when you are teased here. It is such a shame you don't let others hear you this happy.", Kirishima stated as he kept a steady pace on Bakugou's palm.
"Nohohoho way aham I lehetting anyone else hear mehehehe gihihiggle."
"But if you did, you probably would get tickled a whooooooole lot more. Obviously, this would be the only way to hear them so freely after all."
The whine and deep red blush that dusted over Bakugou's cheeks were so worth it. Kirishima knew that there was little to no chance Bakugou would ever let anyone have him this vulnerable. This was his and his alone to treasure and enjoy. To be fair, he often went back and forth himself about wanting anyone else knowing that Bakugou was such a tickling masochist.
About 45 minutes had passed, filled with switched spots along Bakugou's upper body and legs as well as playful banter mixed with laughter, before the code word "Yellow" was spoken. Kirishima had quickly stopped and given Bakugou a much-needed breather with comforting strokes through his hair.
"Doing okay, Bakubabe?"
Bakugou snorted at the silly pet name but nodded his head with a smile. He was beginning to reach his limit which meant Kirishima would finish him off by going for the soles of his feet next. Kirishima had stupidly called
it his "head to toe" treatment and it was a satisfaction guarantee. Bakugou knew he was going to be dead ass tired after this, that was for sure. He had contemplated coming home in his Hero boots just to see the look of sheer pouting upon Kirishima's face again. That "correction" had been spent completely on his feet after Kirishima stubbornly unbuckled each buckle and slipped the boots off. The whole idea backfired for poor Bakugou after having realized WAY too late that those boots of his made his soles much more susceptible to teasing. Kirishima enjoyed the hell out of it greatly.
"Heh heh heh….yeah….I'm Greeheeheen…..I aham about dohone though."
"Finale time it is then."
Kirishima then moved to the end of the bed and slipped off Bakugou's last remaining shoe. It seems one had been dislodged during the beginning of the session. Giggling at the silliness of that, Kirishima had begun to stroke his fingers along the arches of Bakugou's soles. The reaction was instant.
"Hahahahahaha! Dahahahamnit! It TIHIHICKLES!! Hahahahahaha!"
"Oh, it can't possibly tickle THAT bad. You are not even laughing as hard as you would be if I were tickling your upper ribs." Kirishima playfully antagonized Bakugou, fingers caressing at the inner arch and instep.
"Why dohohoes thahahahat TIHIHICKLE sohohoho much!!
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because your feet are a close second to your upper ribs."
"Thahahahat was RHETORICAL!! Aahahahahaha!! ASSHOHOHOLE!!"
Kirishima shook his head and smirked, now wiggling his fingers slowly upon the wiggling toes.
"You never learn, do you? That mouth of yours will always get you into trouble."
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! FUHUHUCK! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Bakugou had tried his best to stay strong and tough out the extreme sensations, but he was exhausted.
"AAAHAHAHA!! QUIRK!! QUHUHUHUHIHIHIHIHRK!! AAHAHAHAHA!!"
Kirishima stopped once again and let Bakugou out of his restraints. Pulling him into a hug and holding him close, Kirishima rubbed Bakugou's back and whispered that he did such a good job.
"Happy Birthday, my Dynamite."
Happily worn out and relaxed, Bakugou yawned out a "Thank You". Soon after, he was out like a light using Kirishima's shoulder as a pillow. Kirishima smiled fondly down at his boyfriend and decided a nap together was just what they needed.
#bnha tickle#bnha tickling#tickle fic#mha tickle#kiribaku#ticklish!bakugou#tickling#tickle blog#ticklish bakugou
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Im not copying Crys but im sharing love.
My mutuals are the best and no one can make me change my mind.
@underfell-crystal: okay, this is clearly a reverse card. I just love your drawings, your charisma, how you write everything of the characters and your ideas, you deserve more attention gurl!!
@the1920sisntaphasemom: I know mostly we talk about my misery but I really appreciate your friendship, you're the mom friend we all need because you support us in the way you can, without counting how awesome you draw mom <3
@ivyprism: your characters, their backstory, their style, the simpness you make us go through, your ideas, your aus, just everything, you're a truly inspiration to me girl, love you (platonically) <33
@avtfol: listen, let me have a chat with that anon because im gonna beat the sh*t out of them. You're amazing, your art, your drawings, everything! And i love your ideas that you share with me for the reactions of the farm bros. I truly love everything you do and im gonna try to support in every way!! <333
@hampal: my dude, mah bruh, JAJSJS, were friends now because i enjoy the random things you send me, they're funny and i can't help but thank you when the storm came and i was scared <3
@okay-kioko: im still shokeeth about how are we mutuals, i love your style and your boys! Thanks to your au we created really good stuff like self indulgent things that isn't bad. I just, love everything you do,, 🥺
@naibawasreblogging: your style is cute and i like what you write too! And i have fun talking to you and how you defend my pronouns, i really appreciate that,, <33
@rainbowut: I just love our interactions! How you simp over my boys because *muack* love your ideas for the boys! And i love bothering you with some outer or tale sanses ;) never stop pls
@ratsoh-writes: I blame you (with affection) about getting me into the aus writing but now i love it! Love everything you do as you, basically, your boys, your headcanons, reactions, everything! And yes, i interact with you a lot and i apologize for that- <33 i beg you, let me marry your papyruses
@913cell: dude your art is just *chef's f*cking kiss* i love the colors you use, how you draw, everything! You deserve a lot more!! 🥺❤ i will never forget the hug you gave Allen and he will never forget it either,,
@mariposawolf: bro, you're the pretty one here, im the ugly friend, your art is so nice to see because of the colors, how you make a snas so handsome it should be illegal, love everything you do <33
@mochamashi: dude you're so cool, all your art, colors, everything!! I don't deserve you as a mutuals </3 pls, teach me to draw
@understuckmuyoko: i know we don't interact that much as I will wanted to but I appreciate that small moments with you! <333
I know that i didn't mention all but they're kinda a lot. I love all my mutuals and you're the best! Please never change what you are <3
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Matchup #3
Hi! @delicateikemenmemes here’s your matchup love!
So I was torn between Theo and Napoleon but I ultimately decided to match you up with...
Napoleon!
Your Song
When you first arrive at the mansion he was honestly mesmerized (he keeps it to himself though since he didn’t want to creep you out)
He immediately starts talking to you, asking how you are and if you need anything. His natural charisma and protective nature draw you in and you quickly become good friends.
He finds your shyness very endearing and loves talking to you about psychology and different stories you’ve read. If there's a book you like that is out during that time period, he will read it just so he can talk about it in more detail with you.
He loves sitting back and watching you teach basic psychology to the kids they teach. (His favorite look on you is when you get excited talking about a subject you love and there a big smile on your face.)
You also insist on teaching Jean how to read and write and Napoleon pretty much feels his heart melt at seeing how much you care about his friend.
One of the first stories you read to him is Napoleon’s Clisson et Eugénie and Jean goes and congratulates Napoleon on his writing career the next day. Napoleon finds it funny though he’s a little bit flustered that his self indulgent writing is still popular in your time period.
He takes you horseback riding with him the next day and if you don't know how he will spend as much time as he needs teaching you how to ride.
He admires the fact that you are so headstrong and assertive about your beliefs because in that way both of you are very similar. (You guys would honestly make the perfect superhero team.)
He thinks you're hilarious and the first time you told him about some of your story ideas, Monsieur de WHAHAHA laughed so hard he fell off his chair. Both of you have similar humor and we can always hear
Your first kiss happened when Sebastian asked you to go wake Napoleon up for breakfast. One minute you were shaking his shoulder trying to wake him and then suddenly you're wrapped in his arms with a tender kiss that sent sparks down your whole body.
Both of you just stared at each other for a moment when Napoleon buried his face in his arms apologizing for the awkward situation. He explain that its a habit and both of you laughed it off (though both of you secretly wanted it to happen again).
You got your wish when you lost a game of Blackjack to Arthur. He made a bet that if you lost the game you would agree to wake up Napoleon everyday (He’s just trying to play matchmaker). He told Sebastian that you volunteered to wake up Napoleon from and now here you are getting your daily kisses!
The more time Napoleon spent with you, the more he fell for you. He goes to sleep every night looking forward to being woken up by you and he plans your activities for the next day before he falls asleep.
Once he realizes how much he loves you, he creates a plan with the other residents to tell you how he feels.
He comes to your room in the evening with a bouquet of flowers and asks you to come with him. He takes you to the balcony where he set up a romantic candlelit dinner complete with a path of candles leading you to your seat. He trains Jupiter to fly above you, dropping rose petals around you as you sit down (That was Arthur’s idea). At the end of your date, he gives you a book of poetry he wrote about how much he loves you, and a beautiful sword (made by Leonardo) that he designed for you.
After you becomes a couple, you two write each other love letters back and forth every week. He saves all of your letters and puts them in a box, reading them whenever he has a nightmare or just feels upset in any way.
One time he walked in on you in your room, posing in the mirror with his red cape wrapped around you after you came back from the thermae. Suddenly he has a new kink. Pls wear his cape more often. He was staring at you absolutely enchanted for about 2 minutes before you noticed him and he snapped out of his trance. He wished he was a better artist because he wants the memory of his cape wrapped around your body saved for eternity. You can imagine what happened after that. 😉(Please let Comte know to buy you a wheelchair)
Speaking of his cape, it’s your favorite thing whenever you're cold. You could be walking down the street and if you're cold, Napoleon will wrap his cape around your shoulders and pull you close (Obviously cuz the cape isn't long enough haha)
He constantly tells you how beautiful he thinks you are and loves seeing you get flustered. He thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world and all he wants to do in that moment is kiss you till you’re both out of breath.
If you ever feel sad or upset, he is a very thoughtful person and will do his best to find out exactly what you need. Sometimes he will take you out for dessert and a date around town. Usually he will pull you in bed with him, cuddling you and making you laugh till you feel better.
He absolutely loves cooking for you and if he doesn't already know how, he will learn how to make your favorite recipes and will surprise you with his amazing food. (You are his queen and a queen deserves the absolute best)
Overall Napoleon is the sweetest most caring boyfriend you can find and he’ll always protect and take care of you. He’ll make you laugh and he’ll keep you on your toes. You’ll never get bored with him around and he will be your best friend for the rest of your life.
Hope you enjoyed it!❤️❤️
Here’s my Napoleon playlist! I’ll always be adding new songs to it so you won’t get bored.
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikevamp napoleon#ikemen vampire napoleon#ikevamp arthur#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp jean#ikevamp comte#ikevamp matchup#ikevamp sebastian
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Hi Three! I’m glad that you’re doing well! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait to read it. I need to read more Atsumu stuff but I’m excited because you’re the one writing it 💕 Also, I want to apologize ahead of time for writing such a long message!
One of my friends also doesn’t watch actor based shows. I had to pause or take breaks because there were times I didn’t really find any interesting dramas or I was too busy studying in college lol. I love Adventure Time! I should really catch up on that!
Iwa, Oikawa and I have a group chat where we talk about our dramas. I think Oikawa would get offended if we watched an episode ahead of him but I also think that Oikawa “looks” like he’d watch that aha. He would tease Iwa when he notices that Iwa starts dressing like one of the actors from a drama and he’d tease me when he sees me cut my hair like one of the actresses xD
Okay Three, you’re making me blush because I would say “prove it” and freak out when Atsumu attempts to kiss me because I have to pause the drama even though he’s already tackling me 😅 Gimme kisses Atsumu!
I love that whenever you share your thoughts on Atsumu! They’re so good and I’m like they’re such a cute couple T_T It’s okay, that’s how you know he’s your anime husband!
I’m curious what you consider slutty clothing for guys. I’m living for this headcanon because I imagine Atsumu wearing athleisure when we’re home. But now I’m imagining Atsumu wearing stuff that shows off his arms or wears tight shirts because he knows I’ll ogle him xD
Thank you Three! I only interact with a few people on Tumblr and y’all are so welcoming. It was the first time I saw people talk about their self ships! I find it wild that there are people who hate on self ships.
You’re right! We watch fiction so we can enjoy it. OT4 ship! I love it! I think I saw your post about it with Rae Hehe! Kid and pet headcanons are the best! While I do like thirsty fics, I’ve been thriving with fluff and comforting headcanons! I love that we can all nerd out <3
Thank you so much! I’ve been overthinking some stuff recently but hearing that makes me feel better because I’ve been trying to not stress myself out. I will stay hydrated and work on taking care of myself! Oh my gosh, it’s okay! Sometimes I forget to check Tumblr so I get all excited when I see your reply regardless of when I read it! Please stay safe and take care Three. Have a good night and sweet dreams of Atsumu 😊
I just never got into real life dramas and shows. There's enough of that crap irl pls give me princesses and wizards and dragons. Also Adventure Time's finale was breath taking and I lowkey still cry every time I rewatch it
Oh my god the slander out of Oikawa's mouth if he noticed you picked a certain hair cut or Iwa picked up a shirt that suspiciously looks like one of the characters clothing. Totally the pot calling the kettle black though when he teases you both about it but the week before you watched an episode without him and Oikawa had ten screaming fits. Plus Oikawa 100% freaking gets fancy haircuts to match "hot actors" he's that kinda guy lolol
Eww god I think Atsumu is my husband. God when did I end up liking Atsumu this is embarrassing 😅
Don't ask my but I so see Atsumu (and Oikawa) in a god damn femboy hooters outfit. Shirt twisted on the boobies and daisy duke shorts to match. I guess slutty could just be shirtless and low hanging sweats. But also booty shorts and crop tops on these fine looking hunks pls. Lemme be good boys all pretty and dressed up
I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to share with me! I know self ships can be kinda personal and even now I feel weird sharing my own sometimes. But 100% fuck anyone who wants to shit on self ships or self inserts. ffs its all fiction and every character you like is just the authors god damn oc. Indulge and think about your anime husbands and wives bc god damn the serotonin ain't free around here we'll take what we can get!
#selfshipsaturday#but like not on saturday#sorry this took me a hot minute to get to babe#shit and life has been a little hard lately#i really enjoy your self ship stuff its super cute#my activity here has just been wonky bc of my mental health#three.talks#anon
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Be My Princess Social // Yakov Chernenkov, Season 1, Episode 1
// The Great Prince of the Country of Ice
o wats this, self-indulgent crap?? haha the joke is that all the translations i post are self-indulgent crap, thank you for coming to the press conference
This is going to be part of a translation of the Yakov Chernenkov route for the Be My Princess Social Platforms (GREE, Joshige, Eternal Kiss, etc.)
I figured this should be… relatively all right given that it seems like Voltage is done with BMP Social games forever in terms having English versions. tbh kinda surprised no one ever took the task of doing it. publicly at least? i searched a bit, found nothing. if someone already did it pls tell me lol
…..but i guess something like this is a stan’s job to do, right (ﾟ▽ﾟ*)
idk, we’ll see how this goes… only did 1 ep as a test run to see if i feel like doing this rn lol this is lengthy endeavor
Image-heavy!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)
Intro & Legend
This route is similar to Zain’s in that they wipe just about everything from the Paid version (the one with Sergei and the Anastasia backstory…lol that was wild thinking abt it) and start anew with the character. But Yakov is different from all the other BMP1 characters in that they also changed his personality almost completely. This is reflected in his profile when they change his blood type and age from the Paid version (B → O, 25 → 31)
If you’re familiar with the Social Zain route, you can kinda see through his bits how they changed him. A BMP fansite master describes him as “high-handed, but charismatic - a person with the character of a king” which sums it up better than anything I could ever think up
So I guess it would be a good idea to not carry over expectations from the Paid app route to this route because that’s just a recipe for disappointment lol. i know a lot of people like the Yakov from the Paid route, so I wanted to put that out there. It’s a shame bc that character is effectively “gone” but…
the yakov i stan is the social one, so if that had to happen so my 2d man could come into existence…well…
thank u for ur sacrifice
➤ are my own commentary.
➢ are the choices that pop up. For the most part I have both (iirc I don’t have one near the end bc I forgot I was trying to pick the wrong ones on purpose lol). Note that all my wrong answers are from the original version’s text and thus they may have been changed for EK.
Correct answers are labeled with ❆
➼ at the end of a line signals that the choice text has “ended” and it returns back to the general text. The general text resumes on the line that begins with a ➼. This is mostly just for organization on my part - the docs I type+format these on get very, very annoying to scroll through, so
Bolded dialogue reflect the screencaps.
I hope you enjoy some part of it! ( ´◡` ) Thanks for reading
Episode 1 // The Great Prince of the Country of Ice
➤ Interestingly, the original title they used for GREE and Joshige is The Cold, Rational Prince of Sanct Sybil Kingdom. I dunno why they would change it except maybe it was too long for the title card to look pretty lol
When I opened the door at the sound of the chime, there stood a man wearing a gentle smile on his face. Taking note of my presence, he places his hand to his breast and gracefully bows.
[Zain]: “You must be Miss Kara Go. I am Zain, the personal steward of Nobel Michel Castle.”
[Zain]: “As promised, I have come to pick you up.”
[Kara]: “Y-Yes. I am indeed Kara Go.”
[Kara]: “To go out of your way to come here - thank you so much.”
(Am I really… not just dreaming here?)
Pulling a letter out from my pocket, I recall the events over the past few days that had led up to today.
I had torn the seal of a blank-white envelope that had no written return address, and my eyes widened in shock.
“I want you to become an exclusive designer.”
In the enclosed message - along with a bit of contact information,
the end of the letter had been signed by Nobel the XIII, the lord of Nobel Michel Castle.
(This must be some sort of mistake… A-Anyhow, I should try to verify it.)
Thinking that, I call the contact number on the letter…
But, indeed - the letter was not a mistake, and they spoke to me about wanting to have a proper consultation about the position. I was told that Lord Nobel wanted some time to talk in-person with me,
and eventually the promised day where I felt that my dreams were coming over the horizon… finally came.
(Even when it’s finally here, in front of me of like this, I still can’t believe it…)
[Zain]: “Thus, His Grace awaits. Let us depart.”
[Kara]: “O-Okay…”
With a spring to my step, I get onto the limousine with Zain.
(It would’ve never crossed my mind that I’d be going to Nobel Michel Castle for a second time.)
(And on top of that, I’ve been called here in terms of being a designer of all things…)
I was pretty nervous the time I had come here for Jean Pierre’s errand, but now I’m even more nervous compared to that day.
I felt my heart noisily thumping as I waited for Lord Nobel, and eventually the parlor door opened.
[Zain]: “My Lady, we must deeply apologize.”
[Zain]: “His Grace’s conference is going longer than expected, so it seems you will have to wait a few moments longer.”
[Kara]: “I see…”
[Zain]: “Since you took your most valued time to come here―
Would you like to take a look around the castle gardens until the conference is over?”
[Kara]: “Castle gardens… you say?”
[Zain]: “Indeed. Several varieties of the rare flowers we raise are currently in bloom– so if it pleases you, I can guide you around.”
(You don’t get the chance to tour the Nobel Castle gardens everyday.)
[Kara]: “Then, if you may.”
[Zain]: “Very well. Shall we go now?”
With Zain as my guide, I get to visit the castle gardens.
[Kara]: “Wow… it’s absolutely stunning.”
[Zain]: “Thank you. Everyone who visits these gardens tend to voice similar sentiments about it.”
The courtyard stretched over a vast space, and it was a feast for the eyes even with a simple glance.
(In a way, it’s as if I’ve been sucked into a fairy tale.)
As Zain explained the parts and features within it, I was completely enamored by the beautiful garden―
When an teenage boy clad in a butler’s uniform comes running to us from the castle.
[???]: “Zain! So this is where you were.”
[Zain]: “…Theo, you are before a guest.”
[Zain]: “I must apologize, My Lady.”
[Zain]: “This is Theo, who is training in this castle as an apprentice steward.”
The boy called Theo – at being scolded by Zain, straightened his posture accordingly.
➤ i can’t believe bmp2 stans denied us from having the wacky family sitcom a theo route would have smh my head bro
[Theo]: “…I am Theo.”
[Kara]: “I’m Kara. Nice to meet you, Theo.”
[Theo]: “M-Mhm…”
Theo, whose face still held remnants of childlike youth, averted his eyes shyly.
Then Zain, who had witnessed all of this, lightly presses the boy in a gentle tone.
[Zain]: “Theo, did you have any matters to discuss with me?”
[Theo]: “Ah-, right! I was sent by His Grace to relay this message to you.”
[Theo]: “He urgently wants your input on something, so you gotta come to the conference room.”
[Zain]: “His Grace does?”
[Zain]: “But, right now…”
His eyebrows knit together, as if troubled. With a smile I turn to him.
[Kara]: “I’ll be all right by myself. Though while I wait, may I take a look around the garden?”
[Zain]: “Yes, of course.”
[Zain]: “I apologize for being unable to guide you around myself for now– but if you could meet with me afterwards…”
[Zain]: “Can you wait just a moment?”
[Kara]: “All right.”
Sounding apologetic in his words, he then goes with Theo towards the castle.
(Being the exclusive butler to Lord Nobel must be quite the busy job…)
I thought about that as I took a stroll around the calm gardens, sunlight beaming… When―
[Man]: “Please, at least, once more– Please consider thinking about it…!”
The cries of a man at his wits’ end cut through the silence of the courtyard.
(Is something going on…?)
Looking in the direction of the voice, I find three men standing from the other side of the building. The shouting from earlier seems to have come from a man who looked slightly older from other two, and said man also seemed to be desperately calling for something.
[Man]: “…The state of the administration right now still is unstable.”
[Man]: “If we act too carelessly, the balance of the three nations could collapse once more!”
[???]: “…I have long past made a decision.”
The words that had answered the aggravated man were bound to a terribly icy voice.
As this man stood with his back facing me, I was unable to see his face; but from pitch alone he seemed to be a young man. With his long, platinum-blond hair having been pleated into a single braid, he silently rebuffs the rage of the older one.
[???]: “Even if you did indeed manage to chase me all the way here― Decisions are not something to turn back from.”
[???]: “That is all that need be said, so I shall leave first.”
[Man]: “…Yakov–Sir, why are you this impatient?!”
[Man]: “It can't be that you don’t realize that now is a crucial time for the country, is it…?!”
In pure exasperation, the older man grabs onto the man called Yakov.
But in doing so, a man in a butler’s uniform that had stood across from him
swiftly yanks the man off.
[Butler]: “What are you thinking in that head of yours, grabbing onto someone of his (Yakov’s) status?”
[Butler]: “Even if you get imprisoned for disrespecting the state, this is an inexcusable situation you’ve found yourself in.”
➤ so the term he uses is specifically for lèse-majesté, which is the fancy term for insulting the ruling sovereign, monarchy, ruling state, etc. etc. but i didn’t want to just throw in that term bc i felt like it’s not… very common? idk i feel like the bmp mc wouldn’t know what that is
granted i guess you could do the galaxy brain take and be like “she doesn’t know what that term is and that’s why she couldn’t piece together that yakov is royalty”
[Man]: “Urgh…!”
The older man was then pinned to the ground, and as his arms were confined behind his back, he groans in pain. The moment I see the expression on his face, a cry spills out from my lips.
[Kara]: “Ah…!”
[Yakov]: “…!”
Hearing my voice, the platinum-blond man whips his head around.
His eyes, peeking out from behind his long bangs and deep blue like the sea, then sharply leveled at me.
[Yakov]: “…What is your business?”
[Kara]: “Uh…”
(What should I answer with?)
Menacingly asked to speak, I…
➢ I’m unable to say anything.
➢ “He’s in pain.” ❆
➢ I’m unable to say anything.
(This person… has an awfully intimidating air to him.)
Unable to say anything particularly impactful, I only turn my eyes to the man held to the ground. ➼
➢ “He’s in pain.”
[Kara]: “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’ve gone too far… He’s in pain.”
[Yuri]: “Of course. It’s only natural for it to hurt when you’re bound down like this.”
The man in the butler’s uniform answers me with a smile plastered on his face.
(What the-… He’s smiling, but it’s honestly quite frightening-)
[Kara]: “B-But… if you end up injuring him, that’d be terrible, no…?!”
While paralyzed with fear, I managed to raise my voice at him. ➼
➼ With that, the platinum-blond man shifts his eyes to the man in the butler’s uniform.
[Yakov]: “―Yuri, release him.”
[Yuri]: “…”
At his words, the one called Yuri immediately relinquishes his hold.
➤ Yuri’s name might actually be Urey, as one of Ivan’s Birthday Event routes note how Ivan’s wolf Urey and butler Yuri have the same name (by coincidence). But the JPN version always spells it as Yuri so I’m just used to it. Not that you should really be taking the app’s romanization as official though given they have stuff like “Lewis” (Louis), “Jean” (Jan), and the occasional “Robert” for Roberto
( ´_ゝ｀)
As the older man staggers back up from the ground, the blond man speaks to the two of them.
[Yakov]: “Do not start trouble in the castle grounds of other kingdoms.”
[Yakov]: “ ―Regarding what happened here today, I shall overlook it this time. Good?”
[Yuri]: “Understood.”
[Man]: “…My sincere apologies.”
As the two men lower their heads, the man called Yakov then directs his piercing gaze towards me.
[Yakov]: “Forget what you just saw and heard here. Not a word to anyone.”
With only those words to me, he leaves with the other two following behind him.
(That “Yakov” person, and “Yuri” too… what terrifying people.)
Alone in the garden,
I was completely petrified to the spot from the overwhelming pressure those men had left me with.
[Theo]: “―Miss Kara, here is where His Grace’s been hanging o– awaiting your presence, rather.”
Afterwards, Lord Nobel’s conference had ended and Theo had come to take me to him. While heading to the parlor where His Grace was waiting, Theo’s innocent self causes a smile to crack my features.
[Kara]: “Just ‘Kara’ is fine, Theo. On that note, you don’t have to speak so formally with me.”
[Theo]: “Uh- But…”
[Kara]: “I’ll be more at ease and less nervous that way.”
[Kara]: “Besides, I’m in a similar situation as you.”
[Theo]: “‘Similar’?”
[Kara]: “I’m only a rookie designer.”
[Kara]: “So like how you’re an apprentice butler, it’s kind of a similar position.”
[Theo]: “Gotcha…”
At my explanation, Theo, apparently happy about some part of it, breaks into a smile.
[Theo]: “…I get you. Then- When we’re together like this, I’ll be sure to do it.”
[Theo]: “Since only super-distinguished people ever come to this castle, I get pretty stressed out.”
[Kara]: “Hehe, I’m feeling the same too. Just entering this castle makes me anxious.”
[Theo]: “Right?! Lord Nobel and Zain treat me really well so it’s all right for now, but…”
Theo wore a smile that was quite fitting for a young boy like himself.
Calmed by his pure sincerity, I enter the reception room.
[Theo]: “…Your Grace, I have brought Miss Kara Go.”
[Nobel]: “Thank you for your hard work.”
[Nobel]: “Kara, sorry for making you have to wait on me when I was the one who called you up here.”
Lord Nobel wears a merry smile on his face as he kindly welcomes me. I bow my head down in gratitude.
[Kara]: “I am, indeed, Kara Go.”
[Kara]: “Thank you for inviting me to such a meeting.”
[Nobel]: “You don’t have to greet me so formally,”
[Nobel]: “as the truth still stands that I was the one who summoned you today. I just wanted to talk with ya about something.”
[Nobel]: “―So, Kara, do you know of the country of Sanct Sybil?”
[Kara]: “Yes. I’m only knowledgeable with news and info that’s been reported to the public, but…”
Sanctis, Sybil, Versurk―
Those three countries had united into one, and the resulting nation is apparently called “Sanct Sybil” from what I’ve heard.
With this as my sole knowledge of the country, Lord Nobel speeds up the conversation.
[Nobel]: “Then I’ll cut to the chase.”
[Nobel]: “The truth is that Sanct Sybil is planning to join the Nobel Michel Alliance.”
[Nobel]: “As they’re still a new nation, they’re searching for talent both inside and outside the country.”
[Nobel]: “In pursuit of capable individuals, the prince of Sanct Sybil has come to me for some guidance, so…”
Cutting his own words short, a smile then markedly graces his features.
[Nobel]: “Kara, you are to be the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil Castle.”
[Nobel]: “I thought that I’d like to go see you work there.”
[Kara]: “Uh-…”
(I’m… going to be the exclusive designer… for a royal castle?!)
[Nobel]: “Besides yourself, I’ve been in talks with other talented folks in all sorts of industries.”
[Nobel]: “It’s only the designer position that’s yet to be decided.”
[Nobel]: “I personally wanted to recommend you, but… what do you think?”
[Kara]: “Um… I’m truly grateful to be able to have this conversation with you, but…”
[Kara]: “Since I’m still new to this, I don’t have any achievements to show for anything.”
[Kara]: “Knowing that, why did you call on me for this…?”
I can’t hide my own utter confusion from his sudden invitation.
Voicing my bewildered thoughts with that question, the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile.
[Nobel]: “I learned about you through a list I asked from Jean Pierre.”
Lord Nobel, upon consulting with the prince of Sanct Sybil, requested Jean Pierre to produce a list of designers with promising futures.
(Jean Pierre himself put me on that list…)
[Nobel]: “Certainly, you don’t have any prior accolades… but within the multitude of applicants, I saw your design sketches,”
[Nobel]: “and I was considerably charmed by them.”
[Nobel]: “I grew delighted just from simply looking at that design.”
[Nobel]: “And for that reason I wish to bring you to Sanct Sybil, a nation newly born into this world.”
[Nobel]: “I think that a person full of zeal like yourself is necessary for such a place.”
[Kara]: “Your Grace…”
[Nobel]: “By all means, please consider it for me.”
(I’m simply unworthy to be having this sort of discussion…)
At Lord Nobel’s invitation, I…
➢ “Give me some time.” ❆
➢ “If it is all right with the other party…”
➢ "Give me some time.”
Having heard all of this from Lord Nobel so far, the feeling of wanting to give it a shot comes to me.
(But…)
[Kara]: “…Could you give me a bit of time to think about it?”
[Nobel]: ”Of course. You should go ponder it a great deal before coming to a decision.” ➼
➢ “If it is all right with the other party…”
[Kara]: “If it is all right with the other party, I feel that I would like to accept this offer.”
[Kara]: “However…”
There’s an uneasy feeling in my heart about it, and my words drift off.
Then Lord Nobel, as if he understood my thoughts nods his head once.
[Nobel]: “It’s all right if you don’t rush yourself to a decision.” ➼
➼ [Nobel]: “Can you give Zain an answer a few days from now?”
[Kara]: “Understood.”
Putting my answer on hold for a moment, I depart Nobel Castle.
(The chance to be the exclusive designer for a royal castle won’t ever come by me again, but…)
(While Jean Pierre is having a hard time, I can’t just leave him like this.)
Turning down the offer to be dropped off at my apartment, I head towards the office of Jean Pierre.
[Jean Pierre]: “Oh my, is that ma petite?”
[Kara]: “Pierre!”
Not expecting to meet him like this, I’m surprised to see him here.
As if he had sensed something about me, he smiles.
[Jean Pierre]: “…With a face like that, looks like you got something to talk about, hmm?”
[Jean Pierre]: “Instead of standing around outside to chat, please just come on in.”
Pierre unlocks the door to his office and I come inside.
[Jean Pierre]: “You somehow came all the way here… Could it be that you had talked with Lord Nobel?”
[Kara]: “…Yes.”
[Kara]: “I received an invitation to work as the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil Castle.”
[Kara]: “But for someone like me, who has no experience nor achievements, to take up such a grand job is…”
[Kara]: “I don’t really have the confidence that I can do something like that.”
[Kara]: “And on top of that, I want to be further taught by you…”
[Jean Pierre]: “What are you saying?! Is this not a good thing? This is your big chance!”
He looks at me with a serious expression.
[Jean Pierre]: “In that list I submitted to Lord Nobel, there were also designers that had prior achievements.”
[Jean Pierre]: “Despite that, I was convinced that you would be the one to be chosen.”
[Kara]: “Why… is that?”
[Jean Pierre]: “From your designs, I feel this power to them.”
[Jean Pierre]: “There are some parts that are rough around the edges,
but there’s this energy, one that can completely transform people, hidden within!”
[Jean Pierre]: “Lord Nobel definitely sensed that too, I bet.”
[Kara]: “Ah…”
(Thinking about it, Lord Nobel did say something along those lines…)
(He said that the designs- from simply looking at them, he grew delighted…)
[Jean Pierre]: “Please believe in yourself.”
[Jean Pierre]: “I, as well as His Grace, would never recommend someone who we’d feel couldn’t do the job.”
[Jean Pierre]: “I believe in your potential, ma petite.”
[Kara]: “Pierre…”
Even though he himself is in a difficult position,
he’s so firmly supporting me in this.
With my heart overwhelmed with such emotion that I couldn’t speak, Jean Pierre smiles.
[Jean Pierre]: “I’m also going to use this moment as a source of encouragement for myself, as I plan to work hard as a designer once more.”
[Jean Pierre]: “One day, no doubt in my mind― the offices of Jean Pierre will be restored!”
[Jean Pierre]: “And that’s why, ma petite… without worrying about these offices, please just go and try what you want to try.”
[Kara]: “…Thank you!”
(I can’t let this chance from Jean Pierre and Lord Nobel just pass me by.)
Urged on by Jean Pierre, a smile appears on my face
as my chest is enveloped in this determination.
―That night.
Resolute in accepting the offer of exclusive designer, I contact Zain as soon as I return to the apartment.
[Kara]: “Concerning the aforementioned position of Sanct Sybil’s designer… I think that I will accept the invitation.”
[Zain]: “Thank you very much. I think that His Grace will be quite pleased to hear that.”
In a soft tone - As if thinking for a moment, Zain continues to speak.
[Zain]: “If I can be honest with you, the prince of Sanct Sybil himself is actually coming to stay at the castle for official business.”
[Zain]: “Normally, we would hold your interview over at Sanct Sybil, but…”
[Zain]: “Since the prince will be coming over, how about you two introduce each other here at Nobel Castle instead?”
(Is that so?)
(Even if Lord Nobel is recommending me, it could become a situation where the prince of Sanct Sybil is not too impressed by me.)
[Kara]: “I see… If you could reserve some time for that, that’d be great.”
[Zain]: “Then, I shall make the proper arrangements and contact you again.”
And with that, it was decided that I would meet the prince of Sanct Sybil.
A few days later―
I’ve been called to Nobel Castle once more.
While having a spot of tea with Lord Nobel and Theo, I bow my head again.
[Kara]: “―Thank you for granting me an opportunity like this.”
[Nobel]: “Ohohoho.”
[Nobel]: “At any rate.. you’ve become quite resolute about this.”
[Kara]: “…Yes. Your Grace has given me words of immense appreciation, and Jean Pierre has also encouraged me.”
[Kara]: “I think, as a designer, I want to take advantage of these chances given to me.”
(But… with no achievements of my own, I wonder if the Prince will approve of me…)
Anxiety running through my heart, Lord Nobel smiles while stroking his beard.
[Nobel]: “I also have hopes for you, Miss Kara.”
[Nobel]: “I believe that, surely, the prince of Sanct Sybil will indeed require your power.”
[Kara]: “Thank you…!”
When I beam at Lord Nobel’s kind words, Theo then cuts into the conversation.
[Theo]: “So Kara… really is a designer, huh.”
[Theo]: “But… if it were possible, I was hoping that you’d become the designer for this castle.”
[Kara]: “Hehe, thank you.”
[Kara]: “I think that I definitely wouldn’t be able to be the designer for Nobel Michel, but I hope one day I’ll be able to make clothes for you, Theo.”
Replying to Theo with a smile, Lord Nobel watches us with a gentle look on face.
[Nobel]: “Ho ho, looks like you two have become quite close.”
[Nobel]: “As I thought, Kara, you seem to have this charm that just mellows out everything around you.”
He laughed heartily when there came a knock on the door.
[Zain]: “Please excuse the interruption,”
[Zain]: “For I have brought Prince Yakov of Sanct Sybil.”
➤ “op are u just making excuses to post caps of zain as much as possible” perhaps PERHAPS
if im gonna need to break down the blobs of text, zain is nice to look at
(Ah…)
I get up from my chair, and face the doorway nervously.
But at the next moment, my eyes instinctively open wide.
(That, person…)
The figures that followed behind Zain were two men I was familiar with―
The platinum-blond man with the air of intimidating beauty,
and the man in the butler uniform who had worn a smile on his face―
The people I had witnessed in the courtyard days before.
[Prince Yakov]: “―As I have heard that you have found a candidate for the designer position, I have come.”
[Prince Yakov]: “Your Grace, I give you my humble gratitude for granting my request.”
[Kara]: “Eh…”
[Prince Yakov]: “…”
I inadvertently let out a small cry of surprise, and the Prince finally meets my eyes. For a split second his eyes had widened, but almost immediately after it shifts into a sharp gaze.
(A person like him is the prince of Sanct Sybil, of all things…)
Steeped in the shocking reality of it all, I stare dumbfounded at Prince Yakov―
➤ now part of me was thinking, do people really need all the screencaps of when he makes the -_- face but honestly him doing the -_- face for half of his portraits on this route is part of the experience
To be continued…
(Letter)
➤ so uh this might be a crapshoot in terms of placement bc there’s diff letters based on the special story you choose, and also i forget where the last few letters go loool but that won’t be a problem until later
From: Yakov
Title: (untitled)
…So you are the designer recommended by Lord Nobel? If you come to my country, you will be treated to the finest hospitality. Therefore you should not ponder over unnecessary matters and just bring yourself here. Good?
―Yakov
holy fucc idk why this is more tiring to translate than other stuff. maybe bc this is a slow route where we have exposition and non-romantic chara development we have to tread thru first. also lol translating the bmp writers’ style seems like more work? vs stuff like cybird? idk it’s hard to explain.
i’m not a super big fan of what i have rn…. in fact i’m like wtf what is this incomprehensible garbage i made...
but i’m too tired to do revisions rn…… aye… but i’ll definitely look over it again in attempt to give it more clarity+readability so yea. there’s nothing’s “wrong” in terms of the literal meaning per se - it’s more like i’d like to make it flow better and actually follow grammar rules instead of cheating with dashes and line breaks hahaaa
anyway guess ill see u at the next part when (if?) i bother to do it. hrmmm i should try to make the chunks larger given that this story is 15 eps + 3 special stories (with ~3 variations for each story) + epilogue but fuuu ill get there when i get there
Next Episode…
“If you wish to hear of my tastes - you will have to ask me in a more alluring voice.”
yea thats rite im hitting u with the azn drama cliffhanger. well now i have to do this translation or else this would be mean….. this is a psychological effort to get me to not leave this unfinished
Again, thanks for reading!
#be my princess#yakov chernenkov#bmpYCS1#yea thatll be my tag for this shit so feel free to block it#bmp
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