#and not with them being “oh you have high intimacy with them go ahead and get a kiss!”

[beelspillowpet]

with the way yall react and reply to my diet rants im worried about your relationship status and your inability to set up boundaries for yourself because wow.

its either polycule (sick emoji) or unable to make a choice without legitimately crashing and burning (vomit emoji)

#this is mostly a joke #but yalls replies are #WORRYING #some of these asks are insane too like someone sent me an ask saying they dont mind not having routes #because it means they dont have to have pressure deciding who to pick #like #its a video game #a bad one at that #just hit the reset button #or pick multiple #my point being that devs said one thing and delivered basically an entirely worse product #if we are given routes we should be experiencing them by now #not at the end of fucking season 1 #and not with them being “oh you have high intimacy with them go ahead and get a kiss!” #like thats it? #nigga... #this shit is so ASS #ITS SO BAD. #YALLS PERSONALL PROBLEMS SHOULDNT REVOLVE AROUND THE GAMEPLAY MECHANIC BEING WEAKERRRRRRRR

[ariqxwz]

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 - Chris x fem!reader

𝕾𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘 - Your boyfriend complains that you're not paying attention to him, so you decide to grant his desire.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 - Fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), public sex.

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 - 1419

Your body rested on the towel, slightly tanned by the sun and your wet hair stood out, taking some glances by people passing by.

You turned your body, positioning yourself face down to continue reading the book you had taken.

"Stop that book and come and have fun," you heard.

You turned your head to find Chris approaching you. His body was wet, he had just come out of the water.

"I've been in before," you said, looking at the book again.

Chris grimaced and sat on the towel next to yours. He opened the portable fridge to get a Pepsi.

"How boring you are," he said and took a sip of his drink.

"I'm not boring"

"You are, you'd rather be reading that stupid book than be with me."

You smiled slightly and turned to look at him. You closed the book and sat on your heels in front of it.

"So that's it? Do you want my attention?" You teased him.

Chris looked the other way and licked his lips while smiling.

"Maybe" flirted with you back.

"Having said that from the beginning." You got up and offered him your hand to get up with you. He looked at it for a few seconds but finally accepted her.

"What do you want to do?" You asked when you were both already walking towards the water.

"I don't know... what do you want to do?" He gave you a quick look and looked straight ahead again.

You stopped walking making him stop too. He gave you a confused look and continued with the look to where you were looking.

"Do you see that house there?" You asked pointing to a small abandoned house that was on a small clif

He nodded as he watched it.

"What do you think if we go there? Last summer I was there, you can jump from the kitchen window into the water." You turned to look at him, he stared at it in silence until he finally spoke.

"okay," he said to give you a quick look and offer you a hand. You accepted it without complaining and guided him, leaving your things in charge of your friends

Once in the house you went to the kitchen, you opened the window and he peeked out, it was big enough to get on it.

"Isn't this very high?" He asked looking down.

"Are you afraid?" You joked with a smile.

Chris took his head out of the window and looked at you, he didn't say anything, he just stared at you with a small smile.

"What?" You asked nervously.

"I'm not afraid" began to take short steps towards you, you leaned back until you hit a wall.

"So?" You asked. Your chest was going up and down now with difficulty.

"If I do it, what do I earn in return?" He said after licking his lips.

"Why should I give you something?"

"It's the least, you've been ignoring me all day and do you expect me to do what you say just like that? Oh, no, princess. I want something in return."

Chris was now a few centimeters from your face, being able to notice his breath on you.

He moved his hand towards your waist and began to caress your naked skin with his index finger.

"And what do you want?" You asked looking him in the eyes, having to raise your head to look at him.

"You" he said without taking his gaze away from you.

You sighed nervously and looked the other way.

"And what are you waiting for?"

The corners of his lips curved upwards.

"That's how I like it." he said in almost a whisper and leaned over to kiss you.

His free hand went up to your cheek to start caressing her with his thumb.

You moved your hands around his neck, shoulders and back, not knowing where to leave them, but Chris didn't seem to care about that.

You moved your hips forward unconsciously. Chris noticed this and abruptly threw them back again.

He raised his knee between your legs and then pressed your intimacy with it. You let out a slight moan to this.

You could feel how you intimidate it was throbbing to the touch, surely it was already more than wet.

"Chris-" you started saying but he joked at you.

"Shh, don't say anything, love, let me take care of everything." Without waiting a second longer, he lowered his leg and put both hands on your hips to get up.

You surrounded your legs in his hips, pressing your intimacy against his pelvis.

Without separating from the kiss, he moved you and sat you on a wooden table that was in the center of the room.

"Please, Chris," you begged with an agitated breathing.

"Tell me what you want, love, tell me what you want and I'll give it to you"

You bit your lower lip while you noticed your cheeks burning.

"I want you to touch me." you said after a few seconds in silence.

Chris nodded and didn't say anything else. He lowered his hand to the bottom of your bikini, starting to play with it.

"Please." you begged again.

"Don't worry, everything at its time, okay? I promise you that I will make you feel very good"

His hand landed on your covered clitoris, moving his fingers up and down. You couldn't help but throw your head back.

"I can see how wet you are." he smiled.

You didn't have time to respond since he moved the bikini to the side and plunged a finger into you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a sharp moan.

"Fuck, so wet" he murmured to himself as he watched as his finger came out and into you.

He took his finger out of you and raised your hips slightly to be able to remove the bottom of your bikini and throw it somewhere in the room.

"Open your legs for me” he whispered as he put him on his knees between your legs.

His index finger massaged your clitoris slowly, being a torture for you, needing more of him.

He brought his head closer and left a wet kiss on it. His tongue flattened and he gave you a quick lick, getting another moan from you.

"Please." you begged again.

"What do you want, princess?" He answered while still moving his finger over your clitoris.

"Your hands, your fingers." you specified without looking at him, your head was looking at the ceiling, although you really had your eyes closed.

"If that's what the princess wants, I'll grant it to her." he said to slide a finger inside you again.

"Another" you said almost out of breath after several onslaughts.

"How do you ask?" He teased you. His free hand went up to your chin and forced you to look at him.

"Please..."

"Good girl." he said and plunged another finger into you.

His tongue began to work with his fingers, giving you quick licking and sucking your clitoris from time to time.

Your hands were now intertwined in his hair as you pressed him against you.

Your moans rumbled in the almost collapsed room, if someone approached from the outside, he could see you, and that excited you.

"I'm going to cum" you moaned with your eyes closed.

"Can you put up with it a little for me?"

You nodded softly. You could feel Chris staring at you from below, you could almost see his mocking face.

The movements of his fingers accelerated just like his tongue, making you can't take it anymore and reach your climax.

The room rumbled with your final sharp moan.

"I'm sorry" you apologized. Removing your hands from his hair and putting them on the table.

"it's okay, princess"

He gave you a few more thrusts with his fingers getting them to give you small spasms of pleasure, then he took them out.

"You've done very well, love" He praised you as he got up and leaned over to kiss you.

He looked for your bikini bottom with his eyes and handed it to you.

"We're going to jump into the water" he said suddenly, taking a confused look from you.

"But...?" You started saying but he interrupted you again.

"I was playing with you, you don't have to give me anything." He smiled and offered you his hand.

"Now let's go, let's see if I'm afraid or not“

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #fem oc

[actual-changeling]

Bro just think about Michael and Joan of Arc in the good omens universe.

Michael was one of Joan’s (or Jehanne, as she was called in life) guides, and trained her in the ways of war and divine Justice from the time she was thirteen. Michael was sent to earth and watched this young peasant girl grow up, eventually leading the French towards victory over the English like she was always meant to.

But then, at the age of eighteen, she’s captured and imprisoned by the English, and Michael has to stand by because “it’s all a part of the great plan”. It doesn’t matter how much Jehanne prays or suffers at the hands of her captors, Michael can’t disobey orders.

Then, Jehanne dies. She dies in the worst way a human can die, being burnt alive. Michael can only watch in horror as the girl they raised and trained is burnt to ashes as a part of the Great Plan. She was only nineteen. There will be nothing left of her by the times the flames are put out.

When Gabriel announces how Aziraphale will die, Michael offers to deliver the holy water to hell, white knuckling the pitcher as they descend down the staircase and hear the distant screams of their protégée and surrogate daughter echoing through their mind.

I know absolutely NOTHING about anything bible or christianity related so this is a shot of delicious angst and knowledge all at once, thank you!

And ooooh Michael volunteering to deliver the holy water because even though they cannot openly admit it, even just seeing a large pillar of flames is a punch in the gut. They go through hell's corridors with their head held high and their eye's straight ahead, quietly praying that they won't walk past any hell fire on the way.

We don't know anything about where/if the humans are in heaven, but angels are probably not allowed to interact with them even now, and Michael wouldn't even if they could.

Jehanne is there, somewhere, and there is nothing Michael could say to her except an apology that means nothing in the face of her suffering.

Oh lord, my brain is currently speedrunning an AU in which Dagon and Michael are both send to earth when Michael is there to raise Jehanne, and it's not six thousand years of pining but still a good few centuries worth.

Michael dreams of licking flames and ashes, and Dagon dreams of burning wings and melting grace, and there is an intimacy in sharing nightmares that gives them an understanding of each other no one else will ever have.

#alex answers asks #good omen #michael good omens #dagon good omens #ineffable administration #angelfish #michael x dagon #christianity mention #im not a religious person and i usually dont interact with religion at all because it makes me. uncomfortable to say the least #BUT do not worry in this context it's fine #kinda comes with the fandom #mrrrhh nightmare comfort angelfish fic when

[thunderheadfred]

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

#hawks #takami keigo #hawks headcanons #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #gender neutral #smut #bnha #mha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #fred writes #no idea why I’m writing these #guess I’m just in a Mood

[waterstar2016]

Raphael A-Z and Three X’s Are Needed For The Descriptions

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): He wants to look at your face. Tenderly brushing your hair away from your skin. The sheets may be cooling but the touching will go on for a while yet. Raph has no qualms about what needs to be done after being intimate. He might also head to the bathroom with you after. You want a shower? He’ll extend the intimacy by joining you. If there are any products you need, he will make sure he has them.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): He loves is arms. Your ass. Squeezing it. Playing with it. Hotdogging. He enjoys giving it the occasional slap (only if you’re receptive and never harder than you like)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): Going to be frank here. Most of us feel that Raphael is the largest of the brothers when it comes to what he’s packing. I am of the group that thinks he has balls to match that cock of his. They’re large, they’re heavy and you can guarantee you can feel them slapping against you. Those balls carry a big load. He doesn’t expect you whatsoever to swallow it all. He is all for what you want to do with his cum, whether it is trying to swallow or liking it when he blows over your ass. He might even have a penchant for smirking when you make that face as it drips out of you. He has no issues with his own cum or yours. He will ask you to sit on his face. If he can get you visibly dripping…oh yeah. Happy boy.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): I can see Raph being one not to really have any dirty secrets with his partner. He’s an open book when it comes to sex with you. He’ll crack up with you when he tells you about that one time he had to clean the Garbage Truck windshield. He even used a black light to check.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): I think this depends on what AU you’re thinking of. If we’re talking mutants, he’s got lots of experience. Humans, on the other hand, has been limited. He’s read everything he can read and understands that paying attention to your partner and talking to them is the best way to learn.

F = Favourite Position: Hands down, Raphael loves taking you from behind. Whether it’s pounding into your depths or licking your nether lips he’s all in. Imagine him coming over or coming home and finding you ass up and shoulders down. “Have ya been thinkin’ of me, sweetheart?” Do a wiggle, see what happens.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): Raphael’s aware that sometimes funny things happen during sex and he takes it all in stride.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): The boys don’t have any hair so I’m going to use this for what he likes to see on his partner. Honestly, whatever you’re happy with, he’s happy too. So, if you want to dye it, go right ahead. Into being waxed and smooth? He’s all over it. Au naturel? Go for it. Be sure if you have one of those shaped tufts, he will give it a tug (how hard depends on what you like).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): He is so into you. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rougher session or he’s going slow, he’s all there.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): Let’s be honest, he has a high sex drive and sometimes you just can’t keep up. His need for you is strong but he is understanding of your limits. He will take things into his own hands though and sometimes will ask if you’d like to watch.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): 1. The KING of dirty talk. He knows what his voice and accent do to you and he knows how to use them. He’ll occasionally surprise you with a call on your break. Make sure you have something cold on hand to drink, you’re going to need it. 2. Praise him. Period.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): If it’s private, he’s good to go. This is something that he shares with you and you alone.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): Lace lingerie. Especially the kind he can see your naughty bits through. Even better if he can help pick it out with you. Perusing the options together would be an enjoyable activity for him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): He is not into degrading you. Not interested in fecal or urine play.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): Both. You get wet going down on him? Good grief. Rumbles to the Nth degree. The reaction he gets when you see or feel him smirking when he’s between your legs? Priceless.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Again, both. Depends on the mood and what you’re both wanting. More often than not, it starts off slow and then it ramps up as you beg for more.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): He’s down with a quickie. Sometimes you both just want each other so bad it hurts. Sometimes that quickie entails him giving you a mind blowing orgasm with his fingers and/or tongue. When you come back down to earth he smirks and tells you he’ll see you later. He’ll appreciate a similar thing from you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): Not if it involves something that could cause you harm. Nope, not gonna happen. Anything experimental would be discussed. Probably in a relaxed situation with a drink before anything goes down.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): The Brute has stamina for miles. He can last a very long time. Definitely multiple rounds if you’re up to it. Need a break between for some water or a snack? You can be sure he’ll keep those coals burning. Occasionally, when he’s watching your pretty mouth work him over he’ll let go sooner rather than later.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): Raph does have a Fleshlight for those occasions that he needs to go solo. It feels good (especially when you watch). If it’s a toy you like he won’t have a problem using it on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Raph is one to take an excessive amount of pleasure in driving you crazy. He likes it when you drip, he loves it when you beg. You’re trembling in anticipation? Oh yeah. Think that damned smirk of his and deep chuckles.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): Heavy breathing, rumbles, growls and a louder completion. He’s not the loudest but not the quietest either.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): 1. Secretly he keeps track in his mind how many times he can get you to call out his name. He will try to break the record. 2. Talk about sex with him. Communication in the bedroom is important to him. It will also probably turn him on.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): I’ve always imagined Raph as having the mushroom type head and he gets thicker as you get closer to the base. He is definitely large.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): On a scale of 1-10. 10. I know this is about Raphael, but I feel all the guys as mutants have a very high sex drive.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): I feel Raph does enjoy the cuddle after (unless it’s one of those oral quickie moments). He’s drowsy but content to hold you and whisper all kinds of sweet nothings and dirty things into your ear. “When ya clench on me like that sweetheart, damn it makes my balls ache.” “I love layin’ like this with ya after.”

[thatlongspringnight]

A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere​

⤐  au type: daffodil

⤐  themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐  kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞ 

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones. 

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance. 

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty. 

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him? 

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow. 

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume. 

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.” 

“....Not here?” 

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before. 

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king. 

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words. 

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well  - just a little.” 

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment. 

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife. 

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout. 

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow. 

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

 It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

 “Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

 “Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

 “Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

 “Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.” 

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile. 

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

 Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him -  and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

 And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss -  her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

 He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

 And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

 “I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

 “I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.” 

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?” 

 “I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

 “Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

 “It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

 “Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

 “But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

 “Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

 “Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

 “Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

 And it was beautiful…of course.

 “Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all  - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

 “Here...”He croons,  reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout. 

 “I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

 She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin. 

 “...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

 “What?”

 “I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

 “Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers. 

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine. 

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once. 

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.” 

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin. 

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart. 

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night. 

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach. 

He wants her, and - 

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“ 

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin. 

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair. 

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up. 

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.” 

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?” 

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now. 

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes. 

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily. 

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss. 

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.” 

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm?  She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him. 

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus - 

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either. 

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager. 

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie –  You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

 “Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

 “I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

 Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure. 

 He wants nothing more.

 “Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

 “I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

 “Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

 “J-Jungkook-!“

 He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

 Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then,  Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

 Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

 “Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

 “Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

 “O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

 “More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

 “A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

 “Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

 “No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

 Just her...

 Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

 “J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

 “N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

 “A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

 Until-

 “S-Stop -!”

 Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

 “C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

 “Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

 “I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that. 

 “Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I -  I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.  

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

 He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him. 

“Noona- “ 

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

 She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

 “Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

 “A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.” 

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again. 

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

 “N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

 “K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

 “It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

 But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

 “J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

 “Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

 It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled. 

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.” 

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.” 

#bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts romance #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bangtan au #bangtan fic #ficswithluv #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #bangtansorciere

[bumbleklee]

hi um, threesome with- zhongli and childe? 😳

my first nsfw request and post! reader is g/n and is technically in a romantic relationship with zhongli. alcohol is involved but everything is consensual :))

cw: sexual threesome, nsfw under the cut

zhongli, being a kind man, offered childe a room in your shared home during his stay in liyue

at first, it was a bit awkward having a third party around but both you and zhongli soon adjusted

when you cooked, you made extra. when you planned activities, you made sure it was something both childe and zhongli would enjoy. to the open eye, one would think all three of you were in a relationship

but inside the home, you were zhongli’s

childe sometimes heard you two at night and, well, he didn’t blame you

just because he was around didn’t mean you should have to pause your relationship

in fact, it took weeks for zhongli to touch you with childe sleeping in the bedroom next door

anytime you tried to make a move, he would freeze up and his gaze would glance over to the wall (a real mood killer)

but when you finally sunk your claws into him again, your sexual intimacy was sloppy

sometimes you forgot to shut the door fully and childe had walked in on you multiple times

other times childe would make comments the next morning about how loud you were the night before

the threesome happens on a rainy night when the three of you just so happened to be drinking

zhongli hardly ever got drunk but between his flushed cheeks and hands resting on your hips a little too tightly, you knew he was intoxicated

you were leaning against him, your back pressed into his chest, but you attention was on childe who was sitting in front of the fireplace and for the first time ever, you realized how attractive he really was

without realizing, you had crawled away from zhongli and were inches from childe’s face

you both stared at each other for a moment before you looked over your shoulder to give zhongli a pleading stare

to your surprise, he had a similar shimmer of lust in his eyes

“What do you want?” Childe finally asked, knowing the answer already but needing firm confirmation from you. 

You chewed on your bottom lip. Your body felt incredibly warm and you couldn’t tell if it was from the fireplace or your overflowing emotions. To be frank, you weren’t sure how to explain this feeling. Never once had you looked at someone the way you were looking at Childe while dating Zhongli, but something was pulling you towards him. 

Before you could answer, you felt soft hands rest on your shoulders and Zhongli’s words ghosted into your ear, “It’s okay.” 

With his approval, you practically threw yourself at Childe. You nearly knocked him onto the ground as your lips smashed in an erratic fashion. His tongue swept into your mouth and his hands traced your body, pulling at your clothing. You felt Zhongli snake his arms around you waist again, melting his touch to your thighs. His lips pressed against your neck, being careful to leave no marks. 

Your mind was hazy and it didn’t take long for your clothes to be flung away. Zhongli whispered sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you to communicate whenever you needed to and Childe fumbled with his own belt. 

He captures your lips in another swollen kiss before traveling down to your legs. Childe nips at your thighs, hoping Zhongli doesn’t kill him for any hickeys, and you let out a sigh when you feel his hot breath on your heat. 

You reach behind you for Zhongli’s hand and he gives it a reassuring squeeze. Childe’s tongue dances along you and your breath hitches. Soon, you’re a moaning mess and when Childe’s fingers snake their way into you, you come within minutes. 

“Childe...” You breathe out, “Up - couch.” 

He complies and sits on the edge of the couch, his member nearly standing straight up. You feel Zhongli starting to move so you tell him where to sit as well (directly behind you). You move between both men and with Zhongli’s help, you lower yourself onto him. Your legs shake at the feeling of being so full but you refrain from letting go completely to give Childe the attention he deserves. 

As you rock your hips against Zhongli, you mouth dips toward’s Childe’s cock. The room is soon filled with groans and heavy breathing, your own moans being consumed. 

Childe has a hand in your hair and you feel your head behind pushed down further on his cock. “I’m close,” He whimpers and you hollow your cheeks, your hands wrapping around whatever isn’t fitting in your mouth. With a grunt, Childe’s hips jerk upwards and he’s cumming in your mouth. As he comes down from his high, a hand pulls your head back swiftly. Thick streaks of cum run down from your mouth, your tongue hanging out from the abrupt movement. Childe swears he could cum again just from the face you’re making. 

Zhongli’s hand presses your forehead into his shoulder as his hips start moving into you at a rapid rate. You hardly have time to let out full moans as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Childe resumes placing kisses along your body, maybe he’ll even mark a ‘C’ somewhere just to really piss Zhongli off. 

“Oh, oh!” You moan, your hands looking for something, anything. 

“You’re mine,” Zhongli groans into your ear, “Never his.” 

“Always!” You cry out. You feel the familiar build-up of pleasure in the pit of your stomach and Childe reaches over to pull at your nipples. Zhongli feels your walls clench around him and for one last minute, his thrusts feel animalistic. 

You come undone like you never have before and as your head lulls to the side, Zhongli grabs your chin and forces you to look straight ahead. “Don’t break eye contact with Childe,” He says, burying his own face in the crook of your neck as he cums suddenly inside of you. 

Your orgasm rips through your body and like Zhongli said, you stare into Childe’s eyes. He looks absolutely amused and amazed and only realizes his own hand was tugging at himself when he’s cumming for the second time that night. 

The three of you are too exhausted to properly clean up so Childe wets some towels in the kitchen and brings them to the living room. Like your clothes, the dirty towels are thrown about. You and Zhongli are on the couch now next to Childe and as much as you think you should talk about what just happened, your eyes feel so heavy and Zhongli feels so warm against your naked body. All you need is a little nap and then you’ll talk about it. 

Probably. 

a/n: first smut writing literally ever so i hope it was okay!!! it was a little longer than i thought it was going to be lol. requests are still open <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin spicy #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #zhongli x reader x childe #genshin x reader

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi! Can I just say that I'm soooooooooooooooooooo happy someone writes DMC content? I feel like there's not a whole lot of that kind of content on here that suits my needs!!!!!!😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

My request is maybe Dante NSFW alphabet? 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 plz and thnx

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

Dante’s aftercare is a little rusty. Most of his sexual experience has been one-night stands which ended with either him or his flavor of the night leaving pretty shortly after their heated rendezvous came to a close.

His favorite thing though is long, intimate cuddle sessions and silly pillow talk. If you want something to eat or drink he’ll get it for you (although beware his go-to is gonna be ordering pizza.) He would also be totally down for showering together if you wanted to. If you have more aftercare requirements, you’ll likely have to guide him through it. Dante really wants to do good for you. Give him some guidance, and he’ll happily oblige as long as it makes you feel good.

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

Dante is confident in his entire body, honestly. He’s muscular and strong, he knows he’s a good looking giy. He is a little bit cocky about it as well. However, if you worship your favorite parts of his body he will be inclined to include those as his favorites.

Dante loves the sound of your laugh, and would do just about anything to have that sweet sound caressing his ears. Especially when accompanied by that bright smile. His favorite thing is when he makes you laugh during sex or while making out and you bury your face against his neck to try to cover it up.

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

Oh, Dante is definitely weak for cumming in your mouth. He loves it when you’re on your knees in front of him with his cock down your throat, and watching you make a mess of yourself trying to swallow his large load. He would also love painting your skin with his cum.

Dante makes you cum as many times as possible. He loves the way you feel around his cock and how soaked he gets in your juices. But even more than that, he loves pleasing you. The way your name falls from his lips so passionately, and your hands tug on his long hair. He loves knowing he made you feel so good.

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

Oh the number of times Dante has jacked off at his desk with lewd thoughts of you running through his mind. Sometimes he even gets a pair of your underwear and holds it to his face while he’s jacking off. With his heightened senses, he is practically surrounded by you. He can almost imagine you’re there instead of his own hand.

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

Dante is experienced, but maybe not quite as experienced as he tries to make out to be. It’s mostly been quickies and one-night stands. Nothing very intimate, so while he knows technically what he’s doing he might need a little help actually learning your body. He’s pretty eager to please, and he has good instincts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position involving you on his desk drives him wild. It’s just something he really enjoys a lot. Especially having you bent over so he can fuck you from behind, and expect to get spanked.

However, he also enjoys lazy, spooning sex in the bed. Bonus points if it’s in the morning and you’re both still a little sleepy and uninhibited.

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

Dante tends to be a little bit silly during sex. Sometimes cracking jokes, or just doing random things to get a giggle out of you. He likes to unwind and he loves making you laugh. If you need a more serious moment, he can accommodate that. And there will be times he just wants to be more serious and intimate. Dante also at times requires a bit of comfort sex, although he’ll never actually call it that. He’ll just be a bit more needy and clingy than usual.

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

He is actually a pretty hairy guy. He’s got nice, soft white chest hair. A patch on his stomach that leads into his pants. His pubes are a bit more gray than white, and it’s coarse. On his own accord, he will let it go wild. In a relationship, he’ll put a little more effort into keeping it trimmed up. However, he’d really prefer not to be clean shaven.

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

Dante usually tends to be more laid back, but he will also make you feel like the only thing that matters in the whole world. He gives a lot of kisses and soft caresses. Between silly jokes or absolutely filthy dirty talk, he’ll confess how much he adores you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off a lot, often purely out of boredom. If he’s alone in the office, it wouldn’t take much effort to walk in on him stroking his cock while sitting at his desk with a dirty magazine open. Sometimes he even tries to time it so you will catch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie is a big one for Dante, but also he would be into a sexy school girl outfit. Slight corruption kink, and he absolutely has a daddy kink. Spanking. Semi-public sex.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The comfort of your own bedroom is nice when he wants to take his time with you. As mentioned before, he also loves fucking you on his desk. He also has a weakness for sloppy sex in less than ideal places like a bar bathroom or an alleyway.

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

Dante gets turned on pretty easily, but will often play hard to get just because he likes it when you try to seduce him. Hearing you beg for his cock and smothering him in affection is the easiest way to get him going. He likes feeling loved and wanted.

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

Dante doesn’t want to risk doing anything that could hurt you, and with him being half demon he’s all too aware that it’s a possibility. He might be down to experiment a bit with devil trigger, but he has his limits with it and he’s pretty steadfast in his limits.

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

Dante has a slight preference for receiving. At times he has to remind himself to return the favor. Not to say he doesn’t enjoy giving, because he does. And that mouth is good, okay? The man can go down like no other. But sometimes he gets so turned on by having your pretty little mouth around his cock, that he gets ahead of himself and just wants to sink himself into your pussy immediately afterwards. He’ll make it up to you though.

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

It depends. He defaults to fast and rough because he tends to get totally lost in the pleasure and wants to pound into you. However, there are times he just wants to go slow and feel you all around him. These are the times when he’s feeling needy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection.

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

He enjoys quickies a whole lot, and will never turn down the chance. It’s a pretty regular occurence, especially if he has to leave for a job but wants to fuck you before he leaves.

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

Dante is pretty adventurous, and there are very few things that are off the table as far as he’s concerned. It just depends on what the risks are.

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

Oh boy...He has amazing stamina. He can pretty much last as long as he wants to, and can go for multiple rounds.

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

Dante has never really played around with toys too much, but he’s absolutely open to it. He’d be weak for having a vibrator used on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is such a tease. Hearing you whine and beg is music to his ears, and he will keep it up for a long time because he knows he’ll make all the teasing worth it for you. Also, he really enjoys teasing you at very bad moments. Like having dinner with friends? Don’t be surprised if Dante starts rubbing your pussy under the table, but never putting enough pressure to get you off. So by the time you leave, you’re basically dripping wet and absolutely infuriated with him.

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

Dante talks a lot, and this is no different with sex. He’s big into dirty talk. He also tends to let out a lot of primal sounds like growls and purrs. Pretty much always lets out a deep growl when he cums.

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

Dante is a braggart. He loves fucking you very loudly when he knows people can hear because he wants everyone to know how well he can fuck you. This is also a bit of a possessive thing, but he won’t admit that.

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

His cock is about 9 inches and very girthy. There’s gonna be a stretch every time he slides it inside of you, but he is aware of this and will take his time to let you adjust before getting rough.

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

Dante’s sex drive is ridiculous. He is pretty much down to fuck anytime, but he doesn’t let it get in the way of pressing matters.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty easily afterwards, and sometimes he won’t even warn you. You’ll be cuddling in bed, and then you just hear him start snoring.

#dante dmc #dante x reader #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry #dante sparda

[loliwrites]

Hi there! I’m a fan of your stories and always look forward to reading a new one! I’ve noticed they sometimes mention Addi’s insecurities regarding her lack of experience compared to Alex’s. I haven’t read all of the list yet, but has there been one where they actually have the “number of partners” talk? What do you think theirs numbers would be and how would Alex handle easing her insecurities? Thanks!

Oh gosh, this is an awkward and uncomfortable conversation to have anyway you slice it. I actually recently had this chat with Mary F'n Poppins... the guy that floats into my life every now and again to screw with my emotions. We were on FaceTime and I told him to guess, and he deadpanned looked at me and went "there's no good answer for me. Either I guess a high number and you're offended I think you're a slut, which I absolutely do not even if you've slept with 50 people (I liked that he added that in to save his ass). Or I guess a low number and you're offended I don't think you could get more guys to sleep with you."

And I never thought of it that way, but that's true. This conversation doesn't need to come early on in a relationship but I think it does for A&A. Mostly because Addi's curious if Alex even knows the number of women he's slept with. The number she's imagining is worrisome, and she'd like him to put her at ease if possible.

Personally, before we get into the meat of this fic, I think their numbers are far different. Addi's still pretty young when they get together and by the everything about her, she doesn't really strike me as the one night stand type of person. That's not to knock one night stands. But I feel like she's so guarded with people, particularly guys, that she doesn't allow herself to be vulnerable with them so quickly. And sex, regardless of intimacy, roughness, emotion, is vulnerable. You're literally bearing everything to this other person -- Addi didn't even want to do that with some of her exes. So personally, I see her number being low low. Like, three or four including Alex. Maybe 5. Maybe she's a late bloomer to the world of sex, too. I feel like that also tracks for her.

And Alex... shit. I think his number is like 5 just from the week before he met Addi. You know? So there's a difference here.

SO ANYWAYS -- Addi's laid up in bed, back propped up by the fluffy pillows with the duvet pooled around her lap. She was staring straight ahead, the vision in front of her an odd mix of quirky and endearing.

The sight? Alex pacing through the bedroom, one hand curled around his toothbrush, gently scrubbing at his teeth, while his other hand was tucked beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, mindlessly cupping himself. He looked preoccupied. Eyes flitted about the room, gentle nods and tilts of his head. It seemed like he was in the middle of some monologue, probably work related, which also meant he looked like he was in a different world entirely.

"Kuckeliku," She was surprised how quickly he stopped pacing and faced the bed. He stopped brushing his teeth, but both hands remained in their respective places. "Can I talk to you about something?"

He pulled his hand out of his underwear, letting it hang at his side. "Can I spit first?" He waited until she nodded, noting that her eyes drifted downward, "just a second, kid."

Back in the bathroom, he moved as quickly as he could to not make her wait for very long, but was simultaneously trying to figure out what this conversation was going to be about. Had he done something wrong earlier? He wanted to best mitigate the situation without knowing what the situation was just yet. He was quick to rinse his mouth out and get back to her.

Alex crawled into his side of the bed and adjusted the duvet around his lap too; taking the extra step to lean in and kiss Addi softly. He let out a hum with the act of affection, and when they parted, she couldn't help but notice that he looked absolutely smitten.

"What's up, sweetheart," he grinned and reached forward for her lap when his pitch and slight lisp made her smile coyly. "You alright?"

She nodded and set her hand on top of his, tracing the back of his hand with her fingertips. "Yeah, I just want to ask you something because..." she trailed off and looked up into his eyes. He was already locked on to her, scoping out her expression for any hint. "I don't know if I'm... I'm not..." she paused. His gentleness in this moment, of not being able to anticipate what was coming next, made her heart beat a little faster. "How many people have you slept with?"

He half-giggled but quickly it that wasn't a joke and he forced his expression to return to seriousness by clearing his throat. "Why?"

"I want to know,"

"I don't think that's important to our relationship,"

"I think it is because I feel like I have to live up to all those other women, and I just... I want to know how many women that is."

"You have nothing to live up to," he insisted.

"Alex, please,"

Alex swallowed and looked down at his lap but didn't pull his hands away from hers.

"You don't know the number?"

"I just don't think the number will make either of us feel better."

She let out a squeak that sounded like a whine and tried to pull her hand out of Alex's, but he held on tighter. "More than a hundred,"

"No," he said instantly.

"More than fifty?"

"...No." This time his answer didn't come as fast, so Addi figured she'd better stop now before she guessed a number that it was higher than. But Alex was right. She didn't feel better. Now there were somewhere between forty and fifty women he had as comparison to her -- and surely they were all more experienced, more sexual than she was (maybe save for a few that Alex might've had in his youth).

And here's the thing. She's not mad at him. She can't be. She has no right to be. Obviously he had a long and full life prior to her. Now hopefully he'll have a long and full life with her. But she's not disillusioned to the fact that the man wasn't a total saint. So she's not mad, and she can't be upset about whatever his number is; she just has to live in this new reality where she knows the number. Or the general area of the number.

"This isn't important to our relationship, kid. I think the only number important to our relationship now is one, and you're it." He waited for Addi to look up at him. He could tell she was trying to hide the frown on her face. "You're it, kid. You're everything,"

Despite his words, her frown got a little more pronounced. "You can't say that. We've been together for like... not a long time."

He shrugged, "well it's the truth, so you're gonna have to figure out how to process that." Alex leaned forward and kissed her softly, thankful she didn't back away from him. Then he laid back in bed and situated the pillow beneath his head.

Addi lifted her hand to his chest, "am I as good as those other women?"

"Better,"

That answer was instantaneous, too.

#asked #anonymous #good boy al #soft al #alex skarsgard drabble #alex skarsgard #alex skarsgard imagine #numbers talk #relationship milestones

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Thomas Raggi

words // 1161

warnings // smut

pairing // Thomas Raggi x Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok i was going to post an actual fic today but something came up so I did not finish it but I had these already done soooo. yeah.

request // yes in a reblog

summary // self explanatory

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

Thomas is utterly soft regarding aftercare. He will give you back rubs and little massages when he has been dominant. But if you are the dominant one he is full on fucked out mode and he needs to be taken care of. He will be shy to say this at first but after the first few times you have sex and you see that he is exhausted from what went down you’ll kind of force him to sit down and for you to take care of him. He will insist on taking care of you.

“Here’s your water, baby,” he almost whispers when he approaches you.

His eyes are droopy, half closed as he barely stands awake. His hair is messy, and there’s a flush on his cheeks from all the action.

“Thommy, are you alright? Should I be the one to take care of you?” Your words seem to have shaken him up, as if he is ashamed of needing aftercare.

“No, no, no! I am fine!”

“Puppy, you aren’t. Come on, come here,” you prompt, the man missing not one second to jump into your arms, “it’s ok to not be able to give me aftercare, baby. You deserve it just as much.”

The man simply sighed on your shoulder, eyes resting closed as he fell asleep.

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

His favorite part of himself is most likely his hands. The man plays the guitar, he’s quite proud of what he can do with his fingers, thus why it’s his favorite part.

Now, on you, I see him being a thigh guy like Damiano. He’d give his life to simply feel your thighs crush his head. Wow

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

he’s kind of shy about it when you guys are intimate, but only because he is generally sub. He will be asking for permission and all, beg to cum in you or on your stomach.

“Ah, ah, please - can-can I cum? Can I cum on your stomach?” His voice is weavering, shaky with pleasure as he can’t control himself any longer. It was torture to even ask and wait for your answer but he knew you’d stop all together if he did not.

“Go ahead baby, cum on my stomach- agh yes, so beautifully”

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

He’s fairly experienced, def had his fair share of sexual partners but he is not clueless that’s for sure

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I’d say he loves you riding him. Any position where you ride him is perfect in his head. He loves it when you are facing him and he can see your face but also he can feel your thighs any time he pleases

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

I feel like he is generally pretty goofy in bed. He will crack a joke or two in the process of making comments about you.

“oh yes baby, ride that dick like a cowboy” or something like that.

He will even have casual conversation with you while you’re fucking, like, “where do you want to eat after?”

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

He does not really shave but he trims the hair a bit. Kind of the mindset of Ethan. Like he does not care too much but he’d rather you choke on his dick rather than his hair

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

Can be very romantic if he wants to. There are def instances where he will surprise you with a nice dinner and then take you to the bedroom, with some low lighting, light music to get you in the mood and full on making love to you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off to photos of you when he is away and in the mood. If he is with you he does not find a reason to do it. You’re literally next to him and up to no good

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is overall submissive, with like chokers on, he’d take a spanking here and there but it was not his favorite thing to do.

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

He looooves receiving oral from you. If you ask him, you are the most skilled he ever had. He does not prefer them compared to you but especially in terms of quickies and stuff he would die for them.

He would not hesitate to give back though, he is no little boy, innuendo intentional.

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

He’s usually quick when he is close and chasing his orgasm but other than that he keeps a pretty satisfying tempo.

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

He’s all in for them when you are trapped in spaces with other people for too long. He doesn’t care if you have 20 or 10 minutes, if he needs you (and you want to of course) he’d hide in the bathroom and fuck you as quick as you both can take

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

He is interested in the risky stuff and into trying new things but he might be a little shy at first. He will not initiate something different. At least not before you have a conversation about it and you reassure him he can tell you what he thinks..

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

He has not thought about it much, and in all honesty he is afraid of you using toys on him but at the same time the thought makes him very hard. he’s open to try using them if you suggest it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ooooh a lot. he’s the absolute tease. innuendos when you are trying to have a wholesome conversation, thigh rubs when you’re in public, ‘accidentally’ hitting his arm on the wall and moaning in ‘pain’... He has a devious brat mind

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

unless you tell him to be quiet, he has no intention on confiding his sounds of pleasure. he will moan, he will scream, he will groan, he will do all of it, and if you get complaints from neighbours… oh well, they should close their windows better

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

He is pretty big. Above average for sure.

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

He is horny all.the.time. There is not a day when he does not come to you with an “i’m horny, help”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

#maneskin imagine #maneskin #måneskin #måneskin smut #måneskin x reader #måneskin headcanon #thomas raggi #thomas raggi imagine

[thran-duils]

Key to the Garden (P.1)

Title: Key to the Garden (Part One) Summary: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Witch Reader (main pairing), but on the side, Dark!Tony Stark x Reader, Dark!Sam Wilson x Reader, Dark!Zemo x Reader. Y/N lives in one of the many fringe covens with her family along with a few other small families that did not want to be roped into the powerhouse coven community, Shield, ran by the Maximoff, Stark, Wilson, and Zemo witch and warlock legacies. Y/N’s grandmother had a run in with the coven community in her youth and she is mostly mum about the incident, but makes it clear that Y/N should stay as far away as she can from them. But when the Shield community discovers where their community is and demands they send someone to teach at their school for upcoming magical beings with threats and when it is demanded that someone from the Y/L/N family be the volunteer, Y/N does not resist to make sure no one else is subjected to them, much to her grandmother’s dismay. Little does Y/N know that a particular head in the community had been searching for them for a very long time and she is going to satisfy a very, very long held grudge. Word Count: 1,893  Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, imprisonment, orgy, forced pregnancy, death, violence, 18+

Introduction || Part Two || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

Your grandmother grasped your hand tightly as you told the soldiers you would go with them in her stead. Your grandmother had foolishly thought that you would allow her to go from the coven to the Shield Academy, the place she had warned you about since you were able to walk. Locking eyes, you saw the terror in her eyes and guilt washed over knowing you were making her feel that. But you were also doing this for her so she did not have to go. She deserved to be able to relax in her old age and live out her days protected in your coven. You had decades upon decades ahead of you.

Tearing your hand from hers, you told her, “Be well. The willow rejuvenates.”

Tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes spilled over as she saw you turn away, being guided into the carriage to take you away.

<><><>

Wanda came down the spiral, stone stairs from her tower in a rush. The servants of the academy went against the wall when they saw her coming, backs straight, giving her a deep bow. The hallway was at least fifteen feet across, more than enough space, but it was done out of respect and custom. They would be berated if they walked past her or any of the other leaders. The custom was not bestowed upon merely the teachers.

Turning the corner to face a flight of stairs, she spotted Sam waiting at the bottom. He was waiting for her having known she had been up in her tower for the better part of the morning.

“Heard that they’re back with two carriages from the other covens,” Sam said to Wanda, falling into side beside her as she walked.

“I didn’t see a second, but I saw the one,” Wanda replied.

“Was it who you were hoping? Was it Elena?”

“No.”

Sam’s face screwed up in confusion and said, “Well, maybe they screwed up.”

“They didn’t,” Wanda said clipped, which only served to confuse him more. She sensed his bewilderment and she offered tightly, “I know she’s from the right coven. It was like I was seeing a ghost when she came out of the carriage.”

Sam ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, contemplating as they turned a corner towards the front door. The students in the hall parted seeing two of their leaders, giving them curt bows that Sam and Wanda ignored in turn. Much like with the servants, they were not equals to their leaders.

In quieter tones, Sam asked, “Well, do you think she is going to be able to provide the same—”

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Wanda cut in sharply, an air of annoyance about her.

She was high strung, that much was clear to Sam. She had been ever since she had figured out where Elena was and sent their soldiers out to retrieve someone from the coven, preferably Elena. Wanda had given instructions to suggest her, wanting Elena to make the decision on her own because she knew how altruistic Elena was. She wanted Elena to choose to come back to her, even if it was through unscrupulous means.

The other leaders of the academy – Sam, Tony, and Helmut – knew of the shared past with Elena and Wanda. She had not shared the finer details of their relationship past they had worked together, but Wanda knew the men were not daft – they could discern the intimacy that Wanda and Elena had shared. Had shared… before Elena pulled away, taking her power and just as important, her affection with her, leaving Wanda alone.

When Wanda stepped down into the entrance hall and was faced with this woman, she felt her skin was on fire. All the past touches, and late nights wrapped in each other’s arms came rushing back to her. It took everything in her to not stride forward and encompass the woman to her as if she was coming back from a long journey and was finally back home safe. Wanda only outwardly flinched in her fingers in her inner turmoil.

The young woman’s features were even more strikingly similar to Elena up close. A picturesque witch that threatened from the moment Wanda laid eyes on her to drag her under her spell. Wanda’s lips parted, feeling as if her breath was stolen from her. She was stronger than this, she need not fall under this woman’s spell. But her nose, her lips, the hair… it all tugged at Wanda. The eyes were different though. That may be for the better, Wanda thought to herself. It would help her to prevent herself from confusing the two completely and allowing her past feelings to overtake her in the presence of this woman.

Behind the woman trailed a Cross fox that was curiously looking around the entrance hall. Wanda admired the coloring of it. Its face and legs were black, with trails of black throughout the rest of its orange fur. It was sleek, its eyes piercing. She would need to be careful around this creature.

The woman came closer to Sam and Wanda, reading the signs from the surrounding guard that they were the people she needed to be greeting with how they were standing erect and leaving them their space. She smiled warmly and Wanda felt a pang. The smile was so similar to the one Elena used to give her lovingly.

“Thank you for the comfortable carriage,” the woman said in an even tone.

Wanda saw past the civility though; she was not happy she was collected and taken away. And that was only prodding gently at her mind because she was unable to penetrate further. Wanda’s jaw ticked; Elena had certainly trained her family against mind manipulation; she was going to be unable to capitalize on that. The girl had a solid wall up and all Wanda could do was scratch at the surface.

She gave a curt bow and Wanda gave a tight lipped smile in return. Sam was ever careful about his reactions, gauging what he should do depending on Wanda. Sam bowed his head in acknowledgment towards the girl.

“Your name?” Wanda asked.

“Y/N.”

Wanda savored the way the name would roll off her tongue, her mind flashing to whispering the name in late night corridors, beckoning her to her chambers.

“I’m Wanda. This is Sam. We are two of the four leaders at the school. The others – Tony and Helmut – you’ll meet later at dinner. Along with the other teachers of course.”

“Pleasured. I’ve heard a lot about the reputation of this school. I sadly never attended due to the nature of my coven.”

“Every coven has their own rules, and we respect that.” That was a lie. Wanda wanted every coven under her rule, but it served her now to lie. “You must be tired. Can they gather your things, and you can come inside to have us show you to your quarters?”

Y/N patted her thigh and ordered, “Ember.” The fox came to her side and sat down obediently.

“An impressive choice for a familiar,” Sam told her. “Not very conspicuous to have one trotting after you.”

With an amused smile, Y/N told him, “Oh, she is not a familiar. She’s my pet. My familiar Nyx is somewhere. My cat. She took off as soon as I opened the door, but she will come back. Is that frowned upon?”

“No, familiars are allowed to roam as long as they don’t cause trouble,” Sam answered.

“I promise she won’t. I’m not expecting danger here.”

She was calculated that much Wanda was gathering right now. That last sentence especially was insinuating she was on her toes with the flash in her eyes, ready for them to betray her.

Wanda gestured towards the front door, “We can give a brief tour on the way to your rooms. They’ll bring your things, don’t worry about that.”

Y/N walked forward, the fox following behind. Wanda was taking note the fox looked extremely protective of Y/N. She would soon have to figure out how to separate them or gain the fox’s trust. The latter seemed more likely if she played her cards right.

On the way to her rooms, a long-haired white cat came running up the hall and came to stride in front of them, tossing looks over its shoulder at Y/N, Wanda, and Sam.

Wanda’s brow furrowed; she had never seen this cat before. And that is when she realized it was Y/N’s familiar. The cat was leveling Wanda with a hard gaze even in its brief glances at both her and Sam; it did not trust them, She could sense that.

Playing it cool, Wanda gave a little chuckle, catching Y/N’s attention.

“You named a white cat Nyx,” Wanda commented, amused. “You’ll need a sense of humor around here.”

<><><>

After settling Y/N into her chambers, Wanda had brought Sam away to go towards the south tower where Tony and Helmut were prepping for the spring equinox. Spell bags were scattered along the table, ones they would hand out to select students and allow them to cast them themselves to they could bring renewal to the academy.

Tony caught sight of them entering and noticed her demeanor. “What’s going on?”

“The new recruits we sent for are here.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Helmut questioned, a layer of confusion in his tone at Wanda’s stiffness.

Wanda grabbed a handful of jasmine petals from the stone bowl at the end of the room, heading towards the alter. “We are still going to need a sacrifice. Maybe a handful until she gets on board.”

Tony shrugged, “We were expecting that. But light at the end of the tunnel. With Elena here now, you’ll have to work less eventually.”

“She’s not here,” Wanda clipped, her body stiff with her frustration.

Tony’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“She didn’t come.” It sounded like it was difficult for her to admit that. Like she had personally failed.

“Then what is going on?” Helmut asked, taking a step forward towards her away from where he was prepping.

She held a hand up and he stopped. His eyes flicked to her palms, knowing what she was capable of. The three men were powerful, but they could not hold a candle to her if they took her on on their own.

“The plan is going forward as we planned.”

“How without Elena?” Tony asked, sounding short of patience now.

“I have her blood still.”

“Did you go drain her?” Tony asked, his tone getting tighter, breeching on sarcastic. He was an impatient person and had little room for the appetite to put up with people toying with him.

“No,” Wanda said dismissively, walking past them to go throw her petals into the alter for good fortune and protection.

Sam came up beside Tony and Helmut, hands in his pockets. Out the corner of his mouth he said, “The granddaughter came. Wanda is in a tizzy. She expected a crone, and she got the fertile, spitting image.” Tony and Helmut both were heedful at the mention of fertile and Sam did not miss it, a smirk breaking out. Finally turning his head, he met Tony’s eyes and then Helmut’s briefly each before walking forward and grabbing the jasmine petals to offer.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai 

Fic tags: @ivybarns 

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!sam wilson #dark!helmut zemo #dark!baron zemo #dark marvel #my shit #tony stark x reader #sam wilson x reader #baron zemo x reader

[hopeamarsu]

Hello m'lady! I'm so excited to see you're accepting prompts! If this strikes your fancy, may I request : “What happened to us?” and “I can be your reason why.” for our Frankie??? ANGST HOTEL HERE WE COME...MAYBE?!? Thank you for your time 💚🌿💚

My darling lady, I'm so happy to get your request! 💚

One huge dose of angsty Frankie coming right up. Oh, this one has a happy ending too. I hope you enjoy this, I'm sending a lot of hugs your way.

I can be your reason why

Frankie Morales x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Warnings: Hospitals, accident, mention of drunk driver, mention of death (Frankie was in the army), angst, sad sad sad, pining, hopeful ending

The room is so white, right down to the bedsheet that covers your lower half.

The white machines hooked on your body, keeping a check on vitals and making sure you are fine, look like something out of a sci-fi film for Frankie. He hates that he has to see them in multitudes as well as the monitors above your bed drawing lines as you breathe and your heart pumps blood and medicine all over your body, healing you.

To say he’d been surprised to get the call from the hospital at 4 in the morning was an understatement when he’d been shocked to the core. Ever since you had had a big fight with him all those months ago, something that was still unsettled and gnawed at his guts, Frankie had been certain he’d been crossed off the list for good and he had only himself to blame.

He had tried to scrub the yelling, the insults, and the low blows out of his mind, but every time he’d glance at his phone and see his wallpaper of you and his daughter smiling together and it would all come back.

“Fuck you, Frankie! I can’t believe you out of all the people would say this! You were supposed to be my friend!”

“Cariño, please…”

“NO! No Frankie, just no. You’ve gone too far this time.”

“Please, please let me explain. Please.”

“Absolutely not. I heard you loud and clear the first time Francisco and, God, what happened to us? Where did we go wrong? I thought you’d… I thought you understood… I thought...”

He can still hear the sniffles, feel the pain in his stomach as he watches you slam the door on his face on the film reel in his mind, and the desperation that creeps up his spine as his texts and calls go unanswered for weeks. He remembers asking the guys to call you and the mountain of ice spreading through his veins when Will told him that you had blocked his number and didn’t want him to contact you.

Frankie contemplated going to your house after that, but what good would it do? He was broken, beaten and lying breathless on the ground. Nothing would help him rise from there. Definitely not you. He is still all those things and more because he doesn’t have you beside him to weather out the stormy seas.

Getting cut off from you hurt him on levels he had trouble comprehending. Frankie had gotten used to you being around, comfortable in the knowledge that you had always been there as his friend and would always be there and that was his grave mistake.

All those moments in the playground swing back in teenage years when he escaped the yelling and shouting in his house, turbulent times in college where he began experimenting with his sexuality and life all the way to his high-risk career in the Army, the coke rap and losing his lady to another man. You had always been there for him.

You had been his rock and his most ardent supporter, Santi hot on your heels but never reaching the level of trust and intimacy you shared with Frankie. All the times he fucked up, needed a shoulder to cry on or a couch to sleep off his desire to go out and find one of his bad habits for a visit, you opened your door to help him. And what had he done for you? Fuck all but trouble and heartbreak and pain in measures he can never pay back.

He hangs his head, his ballcap twisted between his fists as he wrings the fabric to give himself something to do. He would do anything, everything to take back the last 3 and half months and just hold you tight and tell you that he believes in you and will stand by you in all the ways you want him.

But you are sleeping, eyes closed, hooked up to all the machines that monitor your body and Frankie cannot do that. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed to touch you, because just being in the same room as you without your permission feels like an invasion of sorts.

“Cariño, if you can hear me, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for all the words, all the insults thrown in your face and all the pain I’ve caused you. I wish… I wish I could take it all back.”

He whispers, placing his hand next to you where it lays on top of the bedsheet. The difference between them shocks him still, your elegant fingers next to his calloused and battered ones. The way your skin is unmarred by scars where he has all these silver lines criss-crossing his knuckles.

Taking care to avoid the IV line, he gently moves your hand into his and sighs at the first connection in months. The softness of your hand against his roughness is still something out of a dream; how something so beautiful and lovely and gorgeous could ever want something so dark, drenched in the blood of people he’s killed and lost count of is a mystery Frankie never hopes to have to solve.

Like a thief in the night, he steals yet one more moment with you as he squeezes your hand gently. And like a greedy one too, he rises from the creaky plastic hospital chair and kisses your forehead, pushing his luck a little further. Frankie begins talking, his deep timbre bouncing off the walls as he tells you stories you’ve heard a thousand times already but which bring him comfort.

His thumb strokes your knuckles softly, a soothing gesture more for him than you, while he continues telling you things. Time ticks by and Frankie’s voice grows tired and gravely, but he refuses to stop. He talks about Will, Benny and Santi, the ways all of them get together weekly and he talks about Olivia, his pride and joy, and how she grows and how she misses you. How he misses his friend.

The tone tinges with sadness as Frankie starts to talk about your accident and what has happened in the past couple of days. “They caught him, the drunk bastard that ran the red light. He’s in custody and the traffic cameras have him on tape. You are not going to have to see him, he’ll be locked up for a good time. You just need to get better, cariño, so you can kick my ass in softball again and tell me Oreos taste superior when dunked in cold milk.”

He takes a deep breath, blinking away to keep his raw emotions hidden. Had you not changed your medical info and your contact in case of emergency details, he wouldn’t even be here with you, known about your accident, and the mere idea breaks him, wounds him deep. He hides his tears in his sleeve as he tries to gather himself up again. Frankie needs to be strong now, you have a long recovery ahead of you and he will do his best to help you.

“Te amo, mi corazón y mi alma. Por favor, vuelve a mi. I want to kiss you and tell you I belong to you, that I love you more than as a friend. You hold my heart already and I will gladly give it to you if you come back to me. Smile for me again. I can be your reason why, I’ll do anything to see your soft lips grinning at me, with me...” It becomes too much and Frankie folds in half, draping his upper body on the bed as he cries uncontrollably.

He doesn’t know how long he weeps, the seconds and minutes all blurring together as the sleeves of his shirt go from damp to soaked but he doesn’t care. Frankie loves you and he almost lost you for good and he cannot hold it in anymore. He loves you and he needs to tell you.

He’s so deep inside his mind that he doesn’t recognize the weight on top of his head first. But when fingers card through his locks repeatedly and the motion registers, he’s shocked into reality. Frankie lifts his head carefully, eyes blurry and almost afraid of what he will see.

Your eyes are droopy but the small upturn of the corners of your lips as you regard him softly forces another sob from his chest and it takes all of his willpower not to kiss you right then and there. Your hand doesn’t stop moving as you look at each other in silence, fingers in his curls and Frankie is finally back home, breathing freely.

His lips move, though no sound comes out, telling you te amo over and over again.

Everything taglist @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @mind-p0llution @mariesackler

#m takes requests #my writing #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #cw: hospital #cw: drunk driver #cw: accident #angst #sadness #cw: mention of death #tw: hospital #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[kuroopaisen]

little changes | i (miya atsumu)

➵ miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life. 

PART TWO

wc: 6.9k (i know)

warnings: f!reader, cursing (too much tbh)

a/n: hi i couldn’t get this out of head so here you go,,, there’ll be a second part tomorrow 

The first time you'd met, he'd pushed you into a puddle.

"Slow down!" You yelled, chest heaving as you tried to catch up to the two boys ahead of you. Even at seven years old, their legs were significantly longer than yours.

The twins scrambled to a stop, looking over their shoulders at you.

"Hurry up!" Atsumu yapped. "If you can't keep up, we're gonna leave you behind."

"That's unfair!" You pouted, stumbling to a stop in front of them. "You can't just leave me out!"

Atsumu stared at you for a moment.

One clean shove, and you were on your butt, muck and water splashing up around you.

"What'd you do that for?" You yapped, looking up at the boy with a glare strong enough to kill a god.

"You were bein' annoyin'."

"Hey!"

"That's not cool, 'Tsumu," Osamu sighed, holding out a hand to you.

Atsumu shrugged, letting out a long, exaggerated yawn.

That was the day you decided that Miya Atsumu was your arch-nemesis.

Not much had changed since that day. Miya Atsumu was, to put it lightly, the bane of your existence.

Middle school brought him no maturity. If anything, he got worse. He treated you like a nuisance, your friendship with Osamu be damned. But unfortunately, the two of them were rarely apart. And apparently being around you was better than being bored.

"You can't spike a ball for shit," he mumbled, shaking his head at you.

"Oi, language!"

"Shuddup," he rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. "You're so borin'."

He always called you that. Boring.

You glared at him, clenching your fists. You were just trying to play along with them. Sure, your volleyball skills left something to be desired. But Osamu didn't mind. And you wanted to play with your friend, his shitstain of a brother be damned.

"Yeah, well–" You sucked in your breath, trying to think of something very cruel – but not profane, because you're only eleven and swearing is one of the worst things you could do – to say to him. "You're a bastard!"

He looked over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised. Did his silence spell your victory?

"Pig."

Nope.  

That was just the first of many monikers Miya Atsumu gave to you. He had so many, in fact, that it seemed he was allergic to calling you by your name. Pig seemed to be a particular favourite.

But, you always prided yourself on being tough. It took more than a few paltry words to do some real damage to you. And you were determined to not let Atsumu get the upper hand.

And yet, some days he did. They were rare, but they stung like nothing else. It was the days he got possessive. The days he told you to piss off, that he wanted to hang out with Osamu and he didn't want you there to ruin it.

You told yourself that it didn't matter. That you couldn't care less what he thought of you. But it wasn't enough to shift that awful little feeling that came with being told you were unwanted.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed, hand clumsily patting your back. "He's just… like that. He sucks."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Yeah."

You were just mad at yourself for crying. Thankfully, Atsumu had stalked off before you'd crumpled. But still. You'd let him get to you. You were better than that, right? Better than him.

"I still like you," Osamu swallowed, fumbling with the right words to say in a situation like this. "I'll beat him up for you, if you want."

You shook your head, a little too vigorously. "Nah, I don't want you to get into a fight with your brother because of me."

That's what it came down to, really. The feeling that you were in the way of something important. Of something that mattered more than you. The spiteful look Atsumu would shoot you whenever Osamu spent time with you instead of him hurt most.

Osamu shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I really want an excuse to deck him in the face sometimes."

You giggled at that. It was the first time you'd smiled all day. "Thanks, 'Samu."

--------

With each year that passed, Miya Atsumu seemed to get worse. And with each year that passed, you were baffled.

How could someone have such a garbage personality? And worse yet, why was he blessed with such immense talent? You weren't an idiot, and you weren't the sort to deny credit when it was due. The twins were good. You knew jack-shit about volleyball – you'd sworn off it ever since Atsumu had been such a bastard about it – but you knew enough to know they were impressive.

They were just first years, but they were already on the starting line-up of the volleyball team. And you were quite proud of Osamu for that. It was nice to see other people recognising his talents. He'd been humble enough about it, too. Atsumu was another matter, but you'd developed something of a talent for tuning him out. So long as he wasn't insulting you directly, you could ignore him quite well. Life was much better for it.

The only bad thing about Osamu joining the volleyball team was the fact that he now hung out with them. Which wasn't a problem, per say; you were welcome to join, and they were all cordial enough. No, the issue was that sometimes spoke about girls. And nothing was more infuriating than hearing teenage boys advise one another on how to impress girls.

"You're saying I should just… ignore her?" One of the second years frowned at one of the older boys.

"Yeah," the third year nodded. "If you ignore her, she'll get all anxious about it, and she'll keep thinkin' about you."

"Huh," the second year nodded, blinking slowly. "Isn't that kind of… I dunno… mean?"

"Very," you mumbled.

"Huh?"

"If you do that, you'll seem like an asshole. Girls don't like guys like that," you sighed, head rested on Osamu's knee as you looked up at the sky.

Hanging out with the volleyball team wasn't high on your list of favourite activities. But, you had nothing better to do.

"I thought girls liked 'bad boys'," one of the third years laughed.

"I don't wanna make any generalisations," you shrugged. "But it's better if you're friends first. So you've gotta be nice to her."

You had absolutely no experience to speak of. But it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You're only saying that because you've got a thing for Osamu."

You hadn't planned on a murder today. But Suna had just changed your plans.

"Do not," you mumbled, shutting your eyes. Don't bite back, you thought to yourself. If you bite back, they'll just tease you more.

You'd actually thought about it, once. You were sixteen, after all, and ready to yearn. But, as hard as you'd tried to convince yourself that you felt something more for Osamu had fallen flat. The thought of kissing him made you laugh, when it should've made you blush. You hadn't mentioned that to him, though. Having a girl laugh at the thought of intimacy with you was probably at least a little humiliating, regardless of who she was.

"You're lying on him as we speak," one of the team snickered.

"Because I'm tired." You opened one eye to take a glance at the team. You took a moment to visualise punching them all in the face, one by one. It was almost rhapsodic. "You all suck."

"You're not even good enough for 'Samu, anyway."

Oh. Oh.

You bolted upright, glare immediately honing in on him. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at you. "So you think you're good enough for him?"

You opened your mouth to reply. Fuck, you didn't have anything snappy to say. Was strangling him out of the question? Oh God, you could feel your face growing redder by the second. You needed to do something–

"Oi, don't use me as an excuse to make fun of her," Osamu sighed. "You don't really think that highly of me."

"That's cold, 'Samu," Atsumu grimaced. "You really think I'd be okay with you datin' this cow?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Do you like it more when I call you a pig?"

"What on earth gave you that idea, you bastard?" 

Osamu rolled his eyes as the tirade began. Not a day went by without something like this happening. Atsumu said something contrarian, and you exploded like a little firecracker. You weren't the sort to start fights, usually. But there was something about Atsumu that always managed to get under your skin.

He'd hoped that finally entering high school would've taught Atsumu how to behave. He should've known to be wiser than to indulge himself in some wishful thinking.

"Does he always provoke her?" Aran asked, frowning.

Osamu nodded. "Uh huh. He gets a kick out of it."

"Hmm," Aran nodded, "knowing everything I do about Atsumu, that makes perfect sense."

"I keep tellin' her not to respond. It just eggs him on."

"Well, I guess it's kinda hard not to," Aran shrugged.

Osamu sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I just wish they'd get along."

Aran laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry man, can't see that happening any time soon."

--------

Being a teenager fucking sucked.

Getting dumped by an admittedly shitty boyfriend might've been some kind of rite of passage, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You'd tried to count your blessings, small as they may be. At least he hadn't dumped you over text, right?

Maybe it would've been better if he had dumped you over text. That would've given you a few hours at least to pull yourself together. Instead, he'd pulled you aside just before class had started, telling you that he was done with you. He hadn't even given you the chance to speak.

And then you'd had to walk into class and pretend everything was okay. A whole school day was far too long to try and pretend you had it together.

Behind the gym was the only place you'd managed to find the silence in which to mourn. You would've gone and cried in the bathroom if you could, but there was always someone in there. You didn't want to make a scene. And surely, nobody would come behind the gym.

"Oi."

Oh, fuck.

"What do you want?" You mumbled, lacking the courage to look at him.

"I was just tryin' to clear my head before practice," he said. "What're you doin' out here?”

"None of your business," you sniffed, your shoulders hunched and your fists scrunching the fabric of your skirt.

He sat down.

No. No, no, no.

"So," he cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. "I heard about… your ex."

"Great," you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. It'd already reached Atsumu? How much did he know?

"Are you… alright?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"What do you think?" You hissed, drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just, uh… you've seemed kinda off today."

You shot him a look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just…" He sighed, hanging his head.

You pressed your lips together, trying to sift through the jumble of thoughts in your mind. It wasn't that you'd expected your relationship with that asshole to last. Far from it. You just hadn't expected it to go… like this. Not after he'd taken so much from you.

"It's just that–" The words escaped from you with a hitched breath. "It's just that… I gave him a lot, you know?" You took a deep breath. You weren't about to admit everything to fucking Atsumu of all people. But you just wanted to talk. To put the pain into words. "And he didn't have the decency to… to treat me with respect. He… He…"

"Did he hurt you?" Atsumu's tone was sharp; sharper than you'd ever heard it. He still wasn't looking directly at you. If anything, that was a small comfort.

"Not physically or anything," you shook your head, relaxing your fists. "It's just that he… he treated me like shit. And… and I liked him more than I should've, I know that, but…"

You made a valiant effort at swallowing the lump in your throat. "It just fucking sucks, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him all this. You'd already said more than you'd wanted to. But damn, did it feel good to get it off your chest.

Did you seem a bit pathetic? Fuck it. Atsumu already thought poorly of you. Letting him see you like this wouldn't be a massive hit to your pride.

And, to his credit, he's listening. You think.

"I think–" You sniffed, taking a deep breath. This was the worst part of all. "I think he's been hooking up with Eiko. Or, at least, he's been trying to."

"What, really?" Oh, he'd looked pissed. You'd never seen this amount vitriol in his face before. Not even when he was arguing with you.

"Yeah." You nodded weakly. You knew it probably wasn't Eiko's fault. And even if she had 'seduced' him, he'd still chosen to dump you over it. You just didn't have the energy to direct your anger at anyone but him.

"Fuckin' piece of shit," he grumbled. You could see him clenching his fists. You'd never thought he'd get this angry on your behalf. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't." You nearly reached over to grab his arm. But, you didn't. "Please, I just… I just want this to pass, okay? I don't want to create a mess."

Atsumu stared at you for one long moment. You knew he was weighing up whether or not he should listen to you. Then, he sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say, now.

"Well," he cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, "if he tries anythin' with you, lemme know, okay?"

You blinked, your own brow just as furrowed as his.

"He's a pig," he grunted, "and… and you deserve better than that, 'kay?"

You stared at him. Had those words really just come from his mouth? "I thought I was the pig."

Atsumu said nothing. He doesn't know what to say. You'd never really interacted like this before. Without the barbs.

He wanted to say that, even though he makes fun of you all the time, you matter. Frankly, he doesn't really know what he'd do if you weren't there for him to pick on. He's used to you being around, you know? That bred at least a little fondness. And the thought that someone had genuinely, actually hurt you pissed him off.

But he doesn't say any of that. Because he doesn't know how to. Hell, he doesn't even know what that means.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, standing to his feet. "I've gotta get back to practice."

He wants to tell you to text him if you need anything. But, he doesn't think that'll be very comforting, coming from him. So, he walked away.

"Hey, uh, Miya?"

He stopped in his tracks, just as surprised as you were. You never called him by his name.

"Could you, uh… could you keep this between us?" You asked, your throat alarmingly dry. "I'd rather 'Samu didn't know about this. I'm worried that… that he might do something stupid."

Atsumu looked over his shoulder at you. It's a small moment, a quiet one.

He just shrugs. "'Kay."

The next time you're watching them play, you're not just cheering for Osamu.

--------

It's over. Finally.

And you couldn't be more relieved.

Of course, you were going to miss your friends. And of course, all the changes that were about to come your way were fucking terrifying.

But high school sucked. And being a teenager sucked. You couldn't wait to move on from all of that. To make a real person of yourself. And you were going to Tokyo. Tokyo. You'd always lived in Hyogo; the thought of living somewhere so vastly different was downright exhilarating.

But before all that, you had to survive your goodbyes. You'd made it through the graduation ceremony well enough; in truth, you'd zoned out a little.

But now you were all outside, and it was finally time to say goodbye for good. And quite frankly, you hadn't expected to be so emotional. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for keeping it together. Nobody else was crying – yet – and you'd be damned if you were the first person to lose composure.

You'd managed to say goodbye to most of your friends with a smile, and you'd even bid farewell to your beloved literature teacher without getting too miserable. Surely, there wouldn't be too many people left to see.

A flash of grey and yellow at your right.

Oh no. You had to speak to Osamu. That'd do it.

"Oi!" You called out, hurdling towards him.

Osamu turned around, raising a hand at you. Atsumu glanced in your direction, but he made no effort to greet you. Asshole.

"C'mere," Osamu smiled, opening his arms up.

You threw yourself into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as you supported yourself on your tip-toes. He smiled, chuckling in your ear. Good God, you were going to miss him.

"We did it," you smiled, squeezing him tight.

"Somehow." It was subtle, but you could feel the joy in his voice.

"Good job on getting into TSUJI," you beamed, dropping down as he released you from his grasp.

"Thanks," he smiled, reaching a hand up and ruffling your hair. "University of Tokyo’s nothin' to sniff at, you know."

You blushed, despite yourself. "Yeah, well…"

"Stop bein’ so humble," he said, punching you gently in the shoulder. "Make me proud, you hear?"

"You too."

And that's enough. That's all you need to say. He wasn't big on words, and that was okay. It had always been okay. You knew that you guys would stay friends. Even if everyone else fell away, if you drifted from all these people you held close… you knew you'd have 'Samu.

You heard a voice calling you. You straightened your shoulders, looking up at Osamu resolutely. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Sure," he shrugged, nodding at you.

You smiled back, feeling that persistent sting at the corners of your eyes. Your eyes flicked over to Atsumu for just a moment. He'd turned away from you once you'd thrown your arms around Osamu, opting instead to speak to some of the first years. You wondered, for one short moment, if you should try and talk to him.

Nah.

You swallowed, turning around to walk towards whoever had called your name. If you spent any more time standing still, you might not be able to hold back the tears.

You felt a tug on your sleeve, pulling you downwards.

"Oi."

You'd know that voice anywhere. "You're so rude." You shot him a glare, straightening yourself out.

Things had mellowed out a little since that day behind the gym. You wouldn't go so far as to say you were friends; he was still abrasive, and you were still struck by the urge to punch him in the face whenever he came into your field of vision.

But his words had been a little gentler. Insults abounded, but he seemed a bit more mindful. Like he was checking your mood before pushing your buttons.

Or maybe you were just imagining it. Maybe you just wanted that weird little moment between the two of you to mean something.

"What do you want, Miya?" You sighed, after a long silence.

He'd just been standing there, completely silent. He hadn't even bit back. His lips were pursed as he stared at nothing in particular. What an earth is he thinking about? You wondered.

Then, finally, he looked at you. "Wanna live together?"

You froze. Why was he so… like this? "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets and an obnoxiously bored look on his face. "That's easier than findin' a roommate, right? We already know each other, and we'll both be in Tokyo."

No congratulations. No words of kindness. Nothing. Just straight to business. You weren't sure if that or the offer he'd just made was more baffling.

You bit your lip. Could there be anything worse than living with this fool? Maybe you could end up with a shitty roommate – but he'd also be a shitty roommate. How much worse could a total stranger be?

"Hey. Dickhead."

You jumped, looking up to meet his eyes. "Oh, uh… Let me think about it."

"'Kay."

And then, he was gone.

'Kay? 'Kay? That's all he'd had to say to you? After asking you to live with him? How'd he even come up with that idea? Had Osamu told him to do it? Oh, maybe it was his parents. They were quite fond of you, after all. Perhaps they thought you could keep their son in line or something.

But that wasn't your responsibility! You didn't want it to be your responsibility!  

You shook your head. No, you weren't going to let this dominate your thoughts. You would worry about Atsumu later. For now, you just had to focus on getting through the rest of today.

--------

Your reasons for living with Miya Atsumu were simple.

One: you'd avoid each other. Surely, even if you were in the same apartment, you'd give each other a wide enough berth to ensure some sense of privacy.

Two: you could live like an absolute pig and it wouldn't matter. Who cared if you didn't do your dishes that evening? It only affected him. And fuck him.

Three: you'd heard one too many horror stories about friendships being torn to pieces because of shit like this. You didn't want to risk that.

Four: you didn't want to live with a stranger.

Simple as that.

And those were the four reasons you'd told Osamu, in a paltry attempt to justify yourself. He'd been sceptical, of course – and he'd said, without an ounce of goodwill, "you don't know just how bad he is to live with" – but he hadn't tried to stop you.

But one semester was already over and done with. And things were fine.

Honestly, you were still surprised that he'd even asked this of you. But, his reasons were his own, and frankly, you didn't care what they were.

Yes, he lived like a pig. And God, you'd heard him in bed one too many times because apparently he doesn't know how to be quiet.

"It's not my fault you're not gettin' any," he'd say. You always wanted to bite back and say that you were getting more than enough, thank you very much. You were just polite enough to be quiet. But, you always decided – quite wisely – that it wasn't an argument worth getting into.

But, there's something about the freedom of simply not caring if your roommate would get mad at you for some stupid mistake that made it all worth it. You were allowed to fuck up, to make all those silly mistakes every did in that transitory stage from high school to adulthood. Nothing you could do would ruin an important friendship.

You got to learn how to be a decent person without the consequences.

"Would ya mind if I had some friends over?"

Believe it or not, but this was a big step for him. A few weeks ago, and he would've just brought them over, your feelings be damned.

"When?"

"Thursday evenin'."

"What for?"

"Just catchin' up," he shrugged.

"Is this you asking me if I'm okay with it, or is it you asking me to get out of the house?" You raised an eyebrow at him, stirring your tea.

He flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes. "Really?"

"Come on," he propped his chin up on his fist, beaming at you from across the kitchen counter. "Surely, you don't wanna be around when there's a buncha guys in the apartment. Do you?"

"So you're going to bring them over regardless of what I say?"

Nevermind. This wasn't a step for him at all.

"Essentially," he shrugged.

You groaned, lolling your head back.

"Can't you just go to the library or somethin'?" He pouted.

"I don't have any assignments to work on," you frowned. "It's literally only week two."

"Aren't you always tellin' me it's better to get ahead early?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "Week two's overkill."

"Well, just… do your weekly readings or somethin'."

"I'd rather do them from the comfort of my own bed."

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I already told 'em they could come over."

Oh, you were so ready to throttle him.

"Can't you just… make yourself busy?" He shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anythin'."

"You should've thought about that before inviting them over," you growled. "Shit, what are you planning on getting up to, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It'll just stress you out."

"Miya, what the fuck–"

"One of the guys thinks you're hot."

You blinked. He really knew how to be blunt, didn't he?

"And?"

"I can't promise he won't try'n hit on you."

"Yeah, and?"

Atsumu shrugged. "I dunno. I just… thought you might be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"How does he even know what I look like?"

"I showed 'em a photo."

Oh God. Of course he did.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"I mentioned that my roommate's a chick. They wanted to see."

"Miya," you sighed, gripping your own hair. "What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck?"

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time," he tilted his head at you, smiling. "I mean, I'm just as surprised at you that someone finds you attractive–"

"Shut up."

"– but I just thought you should know. Clear things up before they get too awkward, you know?"

No, you didn't.

But, you didn't really want to have this conversation anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, turning to pour the rest of your tea down the sink. For some reason, you didn't really want it anymore. "I'll find something to do."

Shouldn't be too hard. Maybe a bar or a pub would have a student's night. Maybe one of your friends would be free. There was always something to do in the city. 

"I owe you one," Atsumu grinned. You had half a mind to knock his teeth out then and there.

"You really do," you sighed, rinsing your cup out.

"Already got something in mind."

"Sounds like there's a catch," you mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No catch," he held his hands up, giving you what you assumed was his best smile.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got an untrustworthy face, Miya?"

"All the time," he grinned. "Nah, but really. No catch."

You titled your head at him, waiting for a proposal of some kind.

"I'll buy you pizza."

You scoffed. "Really? That's your consolation?"

"I'll get you the expensive shit," he shrugged. "Friday night. Promise."

"Can you even afford anything that's not from the cheapskate menu?"

"Can you?"

You shrugged at that one.

"Nah, I promise, it'll be good," he sighed. "I'll make it worth it, 'kay?"

--------

Friday nights were for Atsumu.

You weren't quite sure how it started. Something to do with him being exhausted from volleyball practice. Something to do with you being exhausted from university. Something else about how neither of you had any energy left to go out and socialise.

Whatever it was, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. Friday night, pizza, and a shitty movie.

These days, you actually liked having him around. Not that you were going to admit to it, though. No, you'd rather die than do anything like that.

You weren't quite sure why you'd suddenly adjusted to him. Was it because you'd known him for so long? Even if he was an absolute nuisance, he was familiar. Someone you could be a goblin around, without having to worry about him wanting to end your friendship over it. No, you'd been involved with each other far too long for that.

And honestly, it was kind of nice to have someone to relax around. While you'd managed to find some people you clicked with at university… making friends was hard. There was no-one you could be an absolute pig with yet.

So, Atsumu would do for now.

You'd just finished watching Neil Breen's Fateful Findings. It had been surprisingly easy to find a copy with Japanese subtitles; that being said, you didn't feel it had given you any clarity as to what was actually going on. Atsumu had loved it, though. He'd already tried throwing some of the quotes back at you. That was sure to make him harder to live with for at least the next week or two.

"Wanna play Smash?" He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at you with a painfully cocky expression.

"Absolutely not."

"Worried I'll beat your ass again?" Did he have to smirk after every second thing he said?

You glared at him. "Wanna say that to my face?"

He grinned, turning to face you head on. "Worried I'll beat your ass again?"

"I was having an off day," you mumbled.

"Wanna prove that, or…"

You bit the inside of your cheek. If you did play, there were two possible outcomes. The first was that you won. If you won, it'd shut him up, and you could go on with your pride more or less intact. The second was that you lost. And you weren't quite sure if you could handle his ego.

"I'll prove it to you right now," you snapped. "On this couch, with my fists."

He blinked at you.

"You're going down for good, Miya."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm gonna make you squirm like the worm you are."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh. The sort that relieved all tension from his body, erasing any hint of his usual insufferable expression.

He was actually kind of handsome.

You'd always known he had a nice body – you weren't blind, you were just too proud to admit it. And it'd gotten even nicer since graduation. Practice paid off, it seemed.

And there was something appealing about his relaxed air. About how he didn't seem to take life too seriously. It almost made him enjoyable to be around.  

Maybe that's why so many girls were interested in him.

Wait, no. They only liked him because they hadn't spoken to him yet.

Oh, right. Girls.

Something shifted in your chest. Something you had never noticed before. Something so quiet, so understated that you hadn't even realised it had made its way in there.

Oh God, you thought, what the fuck is happening to me?

Whatever it was, you didn't like it.

Miya Atsumu was hot. That, unfortunately, was a fact you were now uncomfortably aware of.

"Oi." A hand was being waved in front of your face. You jumped. "Pay attention, you pig."

Oh, nope. There he was. There's the Atsumu you were used to.

"You're a fucking bastard," you mumbled, shrinking into yourself.

You're weren't quite sure what you were saying. You'd just flicked onto autopilot. But you knew that your words were comfortable, familiar. Little insults that a child would throw around. Anything to stave off whatever that weird stirring in your stomach was.

--------

In many ways, realising Miya Atsumu was actually kind of hot ruined your life.

Were you being over-dramatic? Probably. But had things changed? Definitely. To a large extent, it was on you; glances stolen when he wasn't looking, your mind wandering to places it really shouldn't.

But he'd been acting up, too. Standing far too close to you when you were in the kitchen – close enough that you could feel his chest against your back, reaching over your head to grab a cup while damn-near draping his body over you, walking around without a shirt on in the common area…

One time, when you'd dressed up all nice for a friend's birthday, he'd brazenly checked you out. He hadn't said anything – he'd just stared. When you asked him what was wrong, he just shrugged and told you to have fun. And, of course, he'd smirked at you. You'd been ready and willing to kill him.  

Whenever you were on the couch, he always seemed to reach over you and take the remote himself instead of simply asking you to hand it to him. And sure, that wasn't all too weird – but he tended to get really close, and catch your eye for just a moment with that little smirk on his lips. Each and every time, you felt like you were going to explode.

You'd taken to sticking pillows between you on the couch, because you wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lay his head on your lap or some shit on a whim.

Maybe he was messing with you, but this sort of behaviour wasn't totally un-Atsumu. You'd seen him act like this with people before. It's just that you two had never really been close enough to warrant it. Was it just a symptom of the fact that you guys were kind of friends now? Was he just treating you like everyone else?

But some part of you was even angrier at that. You didn't want to be treated like everyone else.

God, you felt stupid for even feeling like that. Especially when you'd had an awkward morning chat with a few of his bedfellows – where each and every time, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was punching so far above his weight. How on earth were people this beautiful paying attention to him?

That was starting to make more and more sense recently.

You tried not to think about it.

But that was getting harder and harder to you. You'd been kind of lonely. Some quiet part of you wanted a serious relationship; someone to come home to of an evening, to relax and unwind with. You'd even been actively looking. Not that you were about to admit that to anyone.

But men are shit. Especially ones in their early twenties.

But as resolutely as you believed that, there you were, preparing for yet another date. You'd have a particularly messy string of disasters recently; men who did little more than stare at your tits, men who had nothing interesting to say, men who thought that being an asshole was a personality…

Tonight, you hoped, would be different. Sure, you'd met this guy in an econ elective – you'd needed something easy to bring your GPA up – and that certainly wasn't a point in his favour. But, he'd taken in interest in you, despite the fact you'd never really spoken before. A few months ago, you might've turned him down. But surely he'd be better than the drivel Tinder unfailingly turned out.

Only problem was that he wanted to go somewhere chic. Somewhere fancy. Somewhere that was, quite frankly, out of your comfort zone.

"Another date?" Atsumu scoffed, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What's it to you?" You grumbled, leant in close to the bathroom mirror. You couldn't get your makeup to look how you wanted it to; everything just seemed a little wonky, a little uneven. And your foundation hadn't settled nicely into your face. It just sat there, a tacky second skin you just wanted to slough off.

"Nothin'," Atsumu shrugged. "You've just never gone out on a Friday before."

Oh. That's right.

You shrugged, biting your cheek. "It's the only day he could get a reservation." In truth, you hadn't even thought about it.

"Same guy as before?"

You shook your head. You couldn't actually remember the last guy you'd told Atsumu about. The amount of bad dates you'd been on was getting embarrassing. "Nah. This one's a classy bastard."

He snorted. "You're kiddin', right?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to have to let him pay for the date because I genuinely don't think I can afford it."

"Yikes," he chuckled. "You know, I never really took you for a gold digger."

You had half a mind to throw your mascara at him. "Shut up."

"If you keep faffin', you'll be late."

Shit, He was right. You checked your phone. 5:25. You had five minutes to leave. You picked it up and made your way to the door, ready to squeeze past Atsumu. You turned, dashing back to the mirror and poking at your hair.

"Stop worryin'," he chuckled, waving a hand at you as he began to walk away. "You look nice."

Those words stuck with you all the way to the restaurant. They were so simple, so innocuous, but… They were touching, coming from him.

And when your date was talking to you about something you simply didn't find interesting, you couldn't get that look on Atsumu's face out of your head.

--------

The date was a veritable disaster. Possibly the worst you'd had in a while.

First of all, the guy was a total asshole. And not just the Atsumu kind – no, this one was rich. He'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, and it showed. You could tolerate it, at first. But when he'd literally said, "I don't think the poor should be allowed to vote," you knew you couldn't stick around.

Second of all, you couldn't stop thinking of Atsumu and his damn smirk.

You'd gotten up without even giving your date an explanation. You'd stormed out of the restaurant in a rage, resolute on walking all the way home.

Why did it always turn out this way? The guys were either assholes, or far too self-centred for a proper relationship. If they were neither of those things, there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

God, were you the problem? Were good people just not attracted to you?

What were you supposed to do?

To top it all off, it began to rain when you were just halfway home.

As you slammed the door, you looked as awful as you felt.

Atsumu flinched, sprawled out in front of the television. He sat up a little straighter, looking at you from over the back of the couch.

"Yikes!" He scoffed. "You look like shit!"

Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, you weren't going to take this from him right now. Not tonight.

"Y'know, you wouldn't've gotten rained off if you'd just stayed in," he chuckled, propelling himself off the couch and ambling his way over to you. "What a waste…"

He came to a stop in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. He had that look on his face; that insufferable smirk he whipped out whenever he'd beaten you in something menial. That smirk that, in any other circumstance, would've made you want to punch him. But tonight, it just made you want to cry.

"You haven't said anythin'," he frowned, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that the mascara dappling your cheeks was just the result of the rain.

But you couldn't. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath.

You stopped breathing. His arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. It was rough, the embrace of someone who wasn't used to tenderness. There's this strange stiffness to it, an admission that he doesn't really know what he's doing. But as he rests his head on your chin, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts. Your hands found their way to his chest, balled up and tense.

"Hey," he mumbled, "hey. It's going to be okay."

You looked up at him, your throat sore from holding back a sob and eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Maybe it's because you're emotional. Or because you're tired. Or maybe it's because you're lonely, and he said a few nice things to you today.

You kissed him.

It's hot, open-mouthed as your fists grasped his shirt, pulling him down to meet you.

Your head is swimming; what the fuck is happening?

 His arms tensed around you, his lips moving to meet yours.

This is what you want. This is what you've wanted for a while now. You hadn't wanted to go on all those shitty dates. You hadn't wanted to waste your time with men you didn't care about. What you'd wanted was–

He froze.

So did you.

His hands are holding your forearms firmly as he stepped back, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"No, baby." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You flew down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

You sank to the floor, arms finding their way around your knees. You didn't want to cry. You didn't want to dignify this evening with that. You weren't going to pity your own shitty mistakes.

Fuck the date. That wasn't even the worst part of the night.

You'd just kissed Miya fucking Atsumu. Things were finally going okay between the two of you. He'd been treating you like a human being.

And now you'd ruined it.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #haikyuuwritersnet #IDK WHAT TAGS ARE #also i can't believe i'm putting in this much effort for atsumu #mayhaps i enjoy him a little #ANYWAY here's part one of my labour of love #2nd part's up tomorrow!

[bokutosworld]

tender love | sugawara k.

pairing: sugawara koushi x gn!reader  word count, genre: 1463 words, fluff, domestic things with sugawara. i may or may have not fallen in love with him while writing this omg.  summary: ever since sugawara met you, he’d discovered a new meaning to home. it wasn’t a place anymore, but a person. home was you.  

“Don’t move for a bit.” Snuggling his face on the juncture between your neck and shoulders, you shuddered at the warm sensation. “I really missed you,” he mumbled. “Right after the conference, I went here as fast as I could just to see you.” 

“I’m home!” 

The smell of cooking instantly greets you the moment you step foot inside your house. You could hear some chatters coming all the way from the kitchen and you wonder who your mom was talking to. From what you remember, you weren’t expecting any visitors today but a glance at the shoe racks by the side of the door lets you in that someone else was here. 

You briefly go to the living room to drop off your bag and hang your coat on the rack. A pile of folders and a familiar beige coat catches your eye, but you don’t pay it that much attention, thinking that it’s your mind playing tricks on you. 

Besides, he couldn’t be here right now. Sugawara should be halfway across the country, attending some important conference on behalf of their school. 

Or at least that’s what you thought. 

“You’re back!” He beams at you, leaving his task of cutting onions to welcome you in his arms. He presses a chaste kiss on your lips, “Welcome home! Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Your mom and I are making your favorite food.” He grins and ruffles your hair before quickly going back to your mom’s side, assisting her in preparing the dish. 

Dumbfounded you stood in the middle of the room. Perplexed you felt as you watched Sugawara deftly move around the place as if he’s memorized every nook and cranny of your family kitchen, a gentle smile on his face as he’s now placing the ingredients on the pot and stirring them carefully as they begin to boil. 

Your mom’s gleefully talking his ear off, making some remarks about how you’ve been busy the past few days. And your boyfriend nods, pouting when he glances at you and mentions how he’s also been worried about you, especially since he was away for the past week. So occupied in watching Sugawara and entertaining the questions that were running in your mind, you failed to hear what he had just said. 

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” 

“I’m sorry.” You quickly moved to stand behind him, meekly wrapping your arms around him. A rare occurrence for you to be the first one to initiate some sort of intimacy, especially under your parents’ roof. But you missed him, so tonight, you didn’t really mind. “Did you need anything?” 

Sugawara caught on your actions, putting his hand atop yours. “I was just asking if you wanted some chili in this stew or not.” 

“Oh, I’d love some.” 

“I got you.” He turned back to adjusting the flavor of the dish, making sure it was to your liking. “Oh, can you also help set up the table?”  

Humming in response, you slowly detach yourself from him and join in dinner preparation, taking mental note to whisk him away for some privacy later.   

---

“Oh, Koushi! You are such a good cook!” Your mom praised as she took her first bites of your boyfriend’s cooking. “This is delicious. You’re like a natural.” 

Flustered at her comments, he waves a hand. “Please, I only did as you instructed. The directions were easy to follow and I’m glad it turned out great.” All the while, Sugawara has been scooping more soup and putting all your favorite toppings and vegetables on your bowl.  

Your mom smiled at the gesture, noting how he liked to dote on you. The conversation on the table then shifted to his conference, how his travel was, how the event went, and what was discussed. One of the many things that you liked about Sugawara was how passionate he was when approaching things. You remember how he was like back in high school. 

A vice-captain for the school volleyball team. His members often commented about how gentle, caring, and selfless he was. They saw him as the superglue that kept the whole team together, and his words never failed to inspire and uplift when spirits were down. Everyone looked up to him, including you.

And that same passion was still burning within him even today as he’s now teaching kids. You see it every time when he videocalls you after a long day’s work, you hear his excitement and his fondness for the young ones through stories that he shares. 

“Long story short, this school year is going to be filled with lots of activities for the kids. It was a consensus from the faculty staff that we should let them try new things so they can find their passion as young as they are now,” he excitedly shares.  

“Well, that sounds great. I just hope you won’t overwork yourself,” your mother turns to glare at you. “And I sure hope they’re taking good care of you.” 

“Mom!” You protest, ready to defend yourself but Sugawara takes hold of your hand and speaks up. 

“Don’t worry, they’re the best partner I could ever ask for,” he says as he turns to look straight in your eyes. His gaze full of love and affection and you feel your breath being knocked out of your lungs. “They make me the happiest that I’ve ever been, and I feel like I could anything with their support.” His declaration of love only intensifies the beating of your heart and you could feel the blood rushing to your face. 

As he coos over you and teasing you for being shy, your mom only chuckles, her own heart warming at the sight of true, pure love blossoming in front of her. 

---

Right after dinner, you pushed your mom to retire to the living room and watch her shows, leaving you and Sugawara to take care of the dishes. The two of you worked in perfect sync as you washed the dirty plates and utensils. Nothing but silence and his occasional humming filled the room as you busied yourself with the task at hand. 

When the last plate has been washed and Sugawara has dried and put it in the cupboards, you went ahead to wipe the counters and clean it of any residue. You jumped when a pair of arms sneakily snaked around your waist and felt something heavy rested on your shoulders.  

“Don’t move for a bit.” Snuggling his face on the juncture between your neck and shoulders, you shuddered at the warm sensation. “I really missed you,” he mumbled. “Right after the conference, I went here as fast as I could just to see you.” 

A light smile donned your face, though he couldn’t see it. You put down the towel and dried your hands, tangling your fingers on his soft hair. “I missed you too.” 

The two of stayed like that for a while, enjoying solitude in the middle of the empty kitchen with only the sounds of the television coming from the living room. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” Granted, it wasn’t that late in the evening yet. A glance on the digital clock states that it was only 8:43 PM, but he was gone for two weeks and right now, you wanted nothing more than to be in the presence of your lover. 

“Your mom might get mad at me.” You can hear amusement in his voice, and the telltale signs of teasing as soon as he replied. He pulled away from you and turning you around so you can see the smirk on his face. “I can’t believe you would suggest something like that. Sleeping in together when we’re not even married yet.” 

Scoffing, you hit his chest rather strongly and glared at him. “Stop, that’s not what I mean.” The two of you exchanged knowing looks before bursting out in loud laughter. Because surely, you’re past that stage in your relationship, already knowing each other personally and intimately. 

Sugawara tugs you close to him, once again embracing you and relishing in your warmth. His chin on the top of your head, he sighs contentedly, “This is nice.” Then after a minute, “Have I told you I love you lately?” 

You tighten your hold on him, “You could always tell me again.”  

In this moment, Sugawara thinks that this is something that he could get used to – working in the morning and coming home to a house with you in it. It is a future that he has been hoping for and he wishes that you yearn for the same thing because he honestly couldn’t wait for the right time when he would get down on one knee and pop that question.

And as you’re both lost in your own world, tucked in each other’s arms, you miss the way the television turns off. You miss the presence of your mom lingering by the door, smiling as she deduces just how perfect you were for each other. 

#hqradiostation #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #sugawara x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu fluff #sugawara fluff #sugawara scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu one shot #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara imagines #hq!! sugawara #hq!! #hq x reader #haikyuu

[ri-ahhh]

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

#here I go again with yet another friends to lovers lmao #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan #blurb #g blurb

[unrestedjade]

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

#ds9 #star trek #meta #ferengi #i love them Too Much help #reliving my brief libertarian phase from high school from the opposite direction #my heart wants to make them simultaneously as queer and as repressed as possible #i didn't even make it to the goddamned blessed exchequer my head is too full #i will find beauty in this vulgarity if it kills me #this is too long #why did i spend my time this way