#cliché tropes and prompts

[paperpocalypse]

case 254.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 1. There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader Word Count: 1,591 words Warnings: Swearing, violence

You are, by all accounts, married to your work.

And you are a loyal lover. The briefcase is your certificate, the bullets your vows. You keep them close wherever you go. Twenty-four years in the Commission is nothing to sneeze at, and you have never – not once – been unfaithful.

… Not in action, at least. Recent thoughts of retirement have begun tempting you to the point of an emotional affair.

(You’d get married, maybe. To a person, not a job. Live in a one-story home with a pond in the backyard and not too far from the nearest Walmart, adopt a little dog that you and your spouse spoil to bits. You’d die peacefully in your sleep instead of bleeding out in an alleyway somewhere.)

“Shit.”

Coughing, you spit and wipe your mouth with the cuff of your sleeve. Damn Arnie made you bite your own tongue.

“The police will be here any minute!” he yells through the walls, and something clatters to the ground. “You can’t make me go back!”

“I’m not making you go back, Arn,” you call back, exasperated. “I got an order to kill you.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

You chuckle and stumble back to your feet.

Arnold had been a loyal employee of the Temps Commission for twenty years. He specializes in 18th century weaponry, his kill count is in the hundreds, and he relies on cigarettes in the same way you rely on coffee. He is also a friend of yours – or the closest thing a Temps assassin can have to a friend – and that’s probably why the Board sent you to kill him.

They had given you two days. You had promised one.

It’s been three.

“You shouldn’t have tried to sell your briefcase to the military, Arnie!”

Arnie doesn’t reply. The squeal and slam of a door grates on your ears, and you swear aloud, rushing to the bathroom.

You break the door open and don’t hesitate to fire in quick succession, just barely missing a shoe slipping from the windowsill.

Clicking your tongue, you pause.

“Dammit.”

Something small and cylindrical is lobbed through the window, bouncing and rolling to a stop at your feet.

“Dammit!”

You book it out of the bathroom, rounding a corner and diving to the ground just as the grenade explodes. The floor shivers. You cover your ears and hold your breath.

If people had ignored the ruckus beforehand, they certainly can’t now.

Panting, you scrape yourself off the floor, reaching back to pull your Glock out and heading back to the bathroom. “Son of a bitch …”

Smoke and burst pipes and rubble are all that remains of the bathroom. Your heart drops to your stomach when you recognize the guts of your Commission briefcase among the rubble. This has got to be the second-worst fumble of your career; you should’ve thrown the briefcase out first and then run out. Your rifle is a lost cause too.

Shaking your head, you approach the gaping hole in the wall and slowly clamber down the side of the building. Arnold couldn’t have gotten far, not with a concussion and the bullet in his leg. Thank goodness. You don’t have as much stamina for high-speed chases as you used to.

The same moment that you land on a patch of broken bricks and dirt, the sound of a gunshot resonates behind you.

You immediately whip around, firing a shot into Case 254’s head before you can even register that his back had been facing you.

Arnold collapses, dead, onto the ground a few meters away from you. Your lips part. You quickly look back up and keep your gun poised.

A man points his rifle back at you.

“Got him before you did,” he tells you, voice low and gruff.

There’s a briefcase at his feet.

“Did the Board think I couldn’t handle this one?” you ask, aiming between the man’s eyes. You like the way he speaks, even though it pisses you off. He’s confident. “Or do they think I defected too?”

“Did you?” he challenges.

Not in ways they can punish. “If I did, Arnie wouldn’t have tried to blow me up with an MK3.”

“… Humph.”

Sirens are getting ever louder. The two of you lower your weapons; you’re no longer wary of this fellow assassin, but the glare he’s fixing you with makes you want to rile him up.

“Tell me your name, hotshot,” you say, walking over to Arnold and rummaging through his clothes.

He grunts sourly. “Why would I tell you anything?”

“To make conversation.” You find some loose change and a coupon for a tanning salon – alright – but what you’re really interested in is the copy of the briefcase’s blueprints. You pocket everything. “It stimulates the mind. I think you might need that in your old age.”

When you face the man fully again, he rolls his eyes.

Then he literally disappears into thin air.

You blink. The dots connect as quickly as the flaring lights of police cars shine around the corners of the building, and a frenzied laugh escapes your lips.

“What a gentleman.”

Guess the rumors were right – the Commission’s new darling, Five, is a genius as well as an asshole.

On the other side of the apartment complex, the detective tells officers to surround the building. You quickly put your gun away and take off before they reach the back.

“I heard someone running! Over here!”

You run until you reach a chain-link fence, locating a spot where the mesh had peeled away from the post and slipping through with gritted teeth. The air inside your mask weighs on your skin, hot and thick from your heavy breathing. Your feet already hurt. You should’ve invested in those gel insoles Arnold told you about before he decided to defect.

“Stop! This is the police!”

You hold back a groan. You’re getting too old for this shit.

But you keep going anyways. You keep running, turn a corner and cut through back alleys, knock out the few people you pass who are unlucky enough to be out at two in the morning. And for some reason, they keep pursuing you, getting closer and closer –

You hear something like a muffled pop of air. A hand grips your arm and drags you into an alley.

You scramble for your Glock, but as soon as your fingers brush its handle, it disappears. Five pushes you down behind a dumpster and shoves a hand up your mask to cover your mouth. It takes everything in you to keep from gagging when you land on a trash bag way too wet-sounding for your liking.

“Quiet.”

You huff, tearing his hand away. Your arm is pinned against his sternum, your head much too close to his. His breathing is quiet, measured, and slow.

(He’s used to this. Used to running, used to hiding, just like you.)

Five runs warm. You like it in the same way that you like the way he speaks.

Footsteps hurry past your hiding place, then fade into the distance.

After waiting about ten more minutes, you let your head knock back against the wall. “Shit.” You chuckle. “I owe you one, Mr. Five.”

Five doesn’t acknowledge your gratitude. Instead, he pushes himself away from you and drops your Glock into your lap, then grabs his briefcase and stands up. Though you resent the loss of heat, you join him with a more appropriate amount of space between the two of you.

“I’ll take you back to headquarters,” Five states, sounding as if his teeth are about to be pulled.

“Thank you kindly,” you reply. “It must be my lucky day, getting my hide saved and escorted by the Commission’s rising star.”

“I’m sure.” His tone is dry.

Sirens wail as you tell him your name.

“I know,” Five mutters, unclipping the briefcase. “You were mentioned in the kill order for your pal back there.”

Ah. You nod, smiling a bit tightly, and put your hands on the briefcase as well. “Of course.”

A flash, and you’re both back in 1955, the sun too bright and the air too stale. You feel the beginnings of a headache.

“Still hate time travel after twenty plus years,” you comment, letting go. “Did using your powers have the same effect?”

Five regards you silently, lips pursed. “Hard to recall,” he finally says, snapping the briefcase shut.

“The lab’s developing some meds for the side effects. Apparently, they’re doing trial runs soon.”

“That so.”

“Yes.” You squint up at HQ, brush off your suit, and exhale loudly. “Anyway, I better get going. See you later, Mr. Five.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Just Five is fine.”

“See you later, Five,” you emphasize with a grin. “Maybe we’ll be able to team up in the future.”

All he does is cast you an unimpressed glance before disappearing through one of his teleportation portal things.

You stare at the now empty space and sigh, putting your hands on your hips. Well, the apocalypse doesn’t exactly make one a good conversationalist. (Either that, or he finds you insufferable.)

As you stroll into the Commission building to turn in the briefcase blueprint and procure another briefcase, you think of your life so far. You think of your marriage to your work, of the sleepless honeymoon stage and the bitter taste of the past ten years. You think of that dark alley, of that moment of companionship, one-sided though it was.

And maybe you find yourself just a little more unfaithful.

[prompts4dummies]

“For someone so cold, you're very warm. You know?”

“I don't see how spooning will help us complete our assignment.”

[lurafita]

Ever thought that maybe selling your soul to the devil isn't that bad a thing?

Everyone just always assumes that the devil will try to collect as soon as possible, and bring upon the person's early demise.

But what if a soul grows with the experiences made? What if, the more a person lives, the more powerful their soul?

So a parent sells their soul to the devil in exchange for their child to get a donor heart. The child lives, grows up, builds their own family. And the parent gets to witness all of it.

And then, years and years in the future, when the parent is dying from old age, all their family around them to say goodbye, the devil comes to collect.

"You have led a fulfilled life. Are you ready?"

"Yes. Thanks for everything."

[scottxlogan]

So many of the prompts you just reblogged are SO GOOD but maybe 1 or 9 for Scogan?

So I posted these as I posted them anon, but since you specifically made the request, I wanted to share the links with you here so that you know that I didn't forget them. They were all so good so thank you for suggesting them. Here you are:

Moment of Truth (Rated T, Scott/Logan) After years of training Scott knows his purpose in facing the end of the world. On the verge of extinction and injured Scott Summers is ready to risk it all to do what he's been trained to do, but when he and Logan find themselves in a dark corner away from the war at hand their feelings for one another resurface and they face an even deeper meaning in each other. Will it be the end of everything for Scott in self-sacrifice or will love bring him back to a new purpose beyond Xavier's dream? The Reservation (Rated M, Scott/Logan) Scott and Logan have been swamped with meetings leaving them both ready to unwind when the day is over, but when they discover that Emma booked them a room with only one bed, will it make things even more awkward or open the door to explorations they weren't brave enough to face on their own without the nudge from their good friend?

[solis-angelus]

FIC PROMPT/IDEA (very basic)

When Sirius falls into the veil, Harry loses his lungs. Bellatrix goggles at the fabric, an expression of pure disbelief written on her face, as if questioning the fabric to confirm her cousin dearest's demise, utterly absorbed in its caresses that she becomes blissfully unaware of her surroundings, as if under an Imperius. So much so that when Harry hurls her with a crucio right there in the middle of a suddenly paused battle, she goes down without complaint. The curse fizzles out after a moment though.

—

When Sirius falls into the veil, Remus goes blind. Still, he grabs onto Harry's thin shirt by the hem and manages to grip his arm when the boy seems to be making a run for the archway after his Godfather. Harry's sudden maneuver when he twists his wand to land on Bellatrix, catches him off-balance and in his physical and magical exhaustion (it had been a full moon the night before), he goes down in a pile of ragged robes and clacking wand wood.

The quiet doesn't last long enough.

—

When Sirius falls into the veil, he doesn't fall to the ground on the other side. Rather, he tumbles sideways straight into someone's open arms and has a moment to register the almost forgotten familiar skin before being abruptly pushed back out. It seems someone pushed both him and his hugger-captor out of the whatever-white-grey-place that was and now they were stumbling back and Sirius is fairly sure he's going to fall on his face this time around (much more embarrassing and much more painful, no question).

Instead of making a fool of himself, as was intended surely, he careens right into someone when some other someone in motion crashes with his side. The person he crashes into is none other than Bellatrix because of course it is. The person behind him seems to have had better luck, it seems, as there is no additional weight from behind pushing him further into cousin dearest.

Said cousin, who had just made to stand up from some sort of half kneel-half bow position and in his crashing Sirius had launched his knee to her forehead and knocked her out. Great.

He doesn't register the chaos moments away from unfolding as a voice he hasn't heard in over a decade and half, speaks out.

—

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Remus hears the words. Yes, he does but he's too tired to tell his tormentor to call it off. They need to bugger the fuck off and leave him to his very-disappointing afterlife in-between.

—

Sirius turns. He's seeing double, his brain very helpfully informs him. The hazel eyes he's burning holes into finally looks up to him after abandoning his long stare at the lying face flat Marauder. He distantly imagines he'd be treated with the same fanfare if not more had he actually gone through with the painful fall on his face. James' lips quirk up. His eyes crinkle. “H—"

—

Harry vaguely notes Sirius accidentally knocking out Bellatrix. (Good riddance. He thinks viciously even though he's 90% sure the spell she launched was red and not- some other colour- green ). A stunner. He cannot believe the burnt-into-his-retina image, but oh well.

But then he comes face to face with a mirror of himself. With hazel eyes. Instinctively, Harry lifts his wand, no spell or magic, nothing in mind. (It seems he underwent the Imperious thing that came over Bellatrix a minute ago, bliss utter bliss, empty mind).

The eyes widen, “H-”

the figure topples over. Petrificus totalus taking it's perfect effect, Moody steps up the dias. And promptly casts the same spell a dozen or so times it seems, taking Bellatrix out first (not that there was much to take out at the moment), following close with Lucius (who for some bizarre reason, had gone still as a statue, thus not getting any more statue-like as he simply falls forward. Harry hopes the nose breaks.) Moody misses the third and fourth times with the respective Death Eaters (Harry has to guess by the scuffle and apparition pops, apparently they can do that inside the chamber. What a joke of magical security.) In hindsight, the wards must have already broken during the battle. The other Order members get most of them, he thinks, not turning back to look. Moody finishes up with Sirius, for good measure, it seems, judging by the satisfaction in the auror's jaded eyes. (The ministry needs to be urgently convinced of Sirius’ innocence, he briefly registers)

—

Hermione is lying in the hospital bed next to him. The curtains on the bed left of him are drawn, he numbly guesses it's Ron.

—

I need your opinion on how to pursue this. Give me future plots, any character you'd like given focus/have any quality, give me anything I'll accept it for thinking through. Please.

I literally have no idea about any plot. None. It's the imperius bliss ~no thoughts head empty~ for me.

[buildmeafairytale]

Send me your favorite writing promts, tropes, cliches, themes, any of it! I want some inspo

[half-bakedboy]

Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it

Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways. 

Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning. 

This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket. 

He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard. 

Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy–at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front. 

It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest. 

He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back. 

Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s. 

He’s Buck’s. 

He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it. 

“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek. 

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror. 

Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks. 

“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—” 

Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern. 

It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. 

When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head. 

“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll. 

“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?” 

“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips. 

“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away. 

“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked. 

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”

It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.

(now on ao3)

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Ideas for subverting popular character tropes? I've started a story and am having difficulty making my cast of characters unique. I'd love it if you had any fresh takes on tropes like the mentor, the sidekick, etc...

POPULAR CHARACTER TROPES AND PROMPTS TO SUBVERT THEM

A character trope, sometimes called a character archetype, is a “recognizable element within a story or plot that defines or conveys information about a character. Character tropes can either define a character's entire role in a plot or the character's personality or motivations.” (source: arcstudiopro).

Many people bash “tropes,” but what you have to remember is that there is no such thing as a unique idea; everything has been done before, and the reason why tropes are so popular is because (a lot of time) they work!

It is totally possible to have a "normal" trope in your story without making it a cliché. However, if you’re looking to subvert these expectations, here’s a list of ideas I’ve come up with!

(This is me brainstorming on the fly to help get your gears turning, so I apologize if these aren’t fully fleshed out or if they’ve already been done before!)

1. THE CHOSEN ONE

The “Chosen One” is a trope where “one character is framed as the inevitable hero or antihero of the story, as a result of destiny, unique gifts, and/or special lineage” (source: Wikipedia). The Chosen One is often depicted as naive or unwilling at the beginning, and has a progression of growth through the narrative when they “accept their destiny.”

Examples:

Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Harry Potter (Harry Potter)

Frodo (The Lord of the Rings)

Neo (The Matrix)

Subversions:

1. The protagonist who was believed to be the chosen one from the very beginning discovers that it was actually someone else the whole time and must come to terms with the realization that they no longer have this title that they’ve based their entire life (and perhaps personality) around. (Bonus points if the new Chosen One is someone they’re close to).

2. Every solstice, the “Holy Order” sends a Chosen One to defeat the monster that has been ravaging their town. None ever return. The protagonist is selected as the next Chosen One, only to find that being Chosen does not mean “Chosen to defeat the monster” but rather “Chosen as the sacrifice to appease the monster.” (Bonus points if the reason the Chosen Ones always die is because the “Holy Order” misguides them (gives them broken weapons/drugged food/faulty armor/directs them into traps/etc.)).

3. Having the Chosen Power comes with a price. After someone is Chosen, it is a death sentence. The protagonist must find a way to defeat the villain AND purge themself of the Chosen Power before it’s too late (Bonus points if the villain helps them purge the Chosen Power).

2. THE SIDEKICK

The sidekick is a friend and helper of the main protagonist. They are often depicted as a loyal comic relief character made to emphasize the hero’s greatness, and may be killed off to advance the hero’s journey.

Examples:

Robin (Batman)

Samwise Gamgee (The Lord of the Rings)

Chewbacca (Star Wars)

Pan (His Dark Materials)

Subversions:

1. The “sidekick” is actually the hero of the story; the narrator just has an inflated ego and believes themself to be the hero. Meanwhile, their “sidekick” is the one saving the world.

2. Sidekicks are often depicted as younger than the hero. Perhaps an older sidekick might do good to spice things up (Bonus points if it’s without turning them into the mentor trope).

3. The sidekick is a former hero who had to watch their own sidekick sacrifice themself, and was convinced to leave hiding by the current hero. (Bonus points if the sidekick dies in a poetic way that is a narrative foil to the way his own sidekick died, perhaps in a “I didn’t understand why they would sacrifice themself for me but now I get it”).

4. A ridiculously strong/powerful Mary Sue type character is the sidekick to a Normal Guy™ (Bonus points if they are incredibly content in this position).

5. The sidekick is not a willing sidekick; they were kidnapped by the hero because they have an object/bloodline/power/etc. that is essential to defeating the villain.

3. THE MENTOR

The Mentor is the protagonist’s teacher, who helps them transition from a “normal” person into a hero. The Mentor is often depicted as wise and virtuous, teaching the protagonist not only the ways of fighting or magic, but also the ways of good and evil. The mentor is often killed off to advance the hero’s character arc, due to the fact that they are sometimes seen as a parental figure.

Examples:

Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

Yoda (Star Wars)

Uncle Iroh (Avatar the Last Airbender)

Mr. Miyagi (Karate Kid)

Subversions:

1. The mentor is the narrator. After spending so much time training the Chosen One and raising them like their own child, they must hear news that they have been killed by the villain. While still grieving (or perhaps fueled by revenge), the mentor must venture out and defeat the villain themself.

2. Have the mentor be a woman! You would be shocked at how overwhelmingly male-dominated the “mentor” archetype is!

3. The mentor turns on the protagonist that they trained…not because the mentor has turned evil, but because the mentor believes that the protagonist has become a monster (à la Kung Fu Panda). (Bonus points if the mentor is actually right and the protagonist really has become a monster).

4. The bright-eyed Chosen One thinks the world of their mentor, only to realize through experiences with others that the mentor trained them horribly, and that the mentor only used their training to boost their renown—without expecting them to survive their fight with the villain. (Bonus points if the protagonist is an unreliable narrator, and we as the readers feel just as betrayed by the mentor because we, too, thought they were a great person).

5. The mentor is the former Chosen One, desperate for the current Chosen One to not make the same mistakes. The current Chosen One resents the mentor for pushing them so hard and treating them so cruelly, but in reality the mentor is just overprotective (Bonus points if it’s not revealed that they were the legendary “Defeated Chosen One” until later).

4. THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Although a Damsel in Distress is often associated with female characters, any character is capable of falling into this archetype; mostly known for being a passive figure who exists mostly as an object for the hero to save.

This is one of the few character tropes that is difficult to break the negative stigma, due to its root in misogyny and the disadvantages that come along with having a character without personal goals or motivations. In my opinion, if you have a character that follows this archetype to the T, perhaps you should consider some revising.

Examples:

Lois Lane (Superman)

Princess Buttercup (The Princess Bride)

Mary Jane Watson (Spiderman)

Ann Darrow (King Kong)

Subversions:

1. The passive, meek damsel in distress whom the hero has been working relentlessly to save actually turns out to be a villain! Their supposed rescue efforts were used as a distraction while the evil plot unfolds, and ends with a fight to the death!

2. The damsel in distress gets in a huge fight with the protagonist when they come to the rescue; they were undercover the entire time, and the protagonist has ruined their plans!

5. THE FEMME FATALE

The femme fatale is usually characterized as a mysterious woman who seduces and entraps men with her body. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a gendered archetype, but often errs into sexualization and misogyny (especially in works written by men).

Examples:

Jane Smith (Mr. & Mrs. Smith)

Nikita (La Femme Nikita)

Catwoman (Batman)

Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct)

Subversions:

1. The Femme Fatale doesn’t know they’re a femme fatale. They are a master of seduction and gaining valuable information through licentious wiles, but it’s all an accident; they just-so-happen to sleep with rivals and they just-so-happen to say important information. The femme fatale casually brings this information up in conversation, rendering the team awed by their “impressive skill set.”

2. The Femme Fatale is male or nonbinary (Bonus points if they will seduce any gender).

3. There is a Femme Fatale team; an icy power couple dedicated to killing through threesomes.

6. THE GEEK (OR MAD SCIENTIST OR NERD OR KNOW-IT-ALL ETC.)

The Geek, or the Mad Scientist, is the character known for knowing everything. They often have a lack of social skills, and their vast knowledge of random things helps the characters when they’ve been backed into a corner…though they sometimes tend to be a quick fix for writers who’ve written their characters into a corner and need an easy solution.

Examples:

Sheldon (The Big Bang Theory)

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

Spock (Star Trek)

L (Death Note)

Subversions:

1. The Geek has leadership skills and ability to inspire others. Awkward is not the complete opposite of charismatic; just because someone may have trouble talking to people doesn’t mean they can’t foster intense loyalty from their comrades. (Think along the lines of L from Death Note. Bonus if they’re the leader of their organization, and their subordinates would face God and walk backwards into Hell for them).

2. Combine the Geek with another archetype, perhaps an antithesis archetype like the Dumb Jock. For example, a Geek that enjoys the outdoors and extreme sports like rock climbing (but rather than to get buff, they just want to look at the fantastic granite deposits on the side of the mountain they’re climbing). Or perhaps a Geek Femme Fatale, whose “special interest” is the psychology of seduction.

3. The Geek hates what they do. The “passion” that Geeks usually have for machines/non-humans/their chosen expertise is forced upon them because they’re super smart. In reality, they’d wanted to take it easy going to business school but nooooo the world was at stake so they had to become an expert in the intergalactic space-time continuum.

4. The Geek is useless. Their musings are more mania than genius, their explanations and ideas incomprehensible to a normal human being, and the group only keeps them around with the hopes that one day they’ll come up with an idea that actually makes sense. (Bonus if that idea comes at the climax of the story).

8. THE DUMB JOCK (OR HIMBO)

The dumb jock, also known as “the brawn,” is an archetype that is often categorized by being all buff and no brains. They often are, or at least begin as, the antagonist of the story, and if they aren’t, they’re considered the “Himbo” character (with character traits being buff, dumb, and respectful to women), who are often reduced merely to their attractiveness and stupidity, without much depth.

Examples:

Jason Carver (Stranger Things)

Mitch Downe (ParaNorman)

Kronk (The Emperor’s New Groove)

Bolin (The Legend of Korra)

Subversions:

1. The himbo and/or jock is frustrated with the way that their comrades always reduce them to the brawn. They feel left out and isolated because they can’t understand the lofty conversations of their peers, and know that they, in a way, look down on them for not being as smart (Bonus if this becomes a major plot point in the character’s arc, causing a huge blowout fight that fissures the group because of it).

2. The himbo/jock’s stupidity does not reduce them to comic relief. The himbo/jock is well-respected and has incredible emotional intelligence and charisma/street smarts, but merely lacks in textbook intelligence.

3. The himbo/jock is a woman! Break through the stereotype of dumb strong people being men and put some herbos in your story (Bonus if you don’t sexualize her and just let her be herself).

4. An idea from the jock/himbo becomes an integral part of the plan to save the world!

9. THE ANTIHERO

The antihero archetype is categorized by their lack of conventional heroic attributes, their execution of their goals through morally gray means, and their frequent reluctance to be the one saving the world. Their motivations may be vengeance, hatred, or any other less-than heroic inspiration besides “the greater good.” In fact, the antihero is sometimes the antagonist of the story, but due to the fact that the audience is seeing things from their perspective, they often tend to root for them.

The antihero used to be its own subversion of the “Chosen One” archetype, but became so widespread that it itself became its own archetype. That’s why antiheroes are so varied, to the point where you may not even need a subversion due to how many possible ideas there are to choose from. (This was the hardest list to make!)

Examples:

Barry Berkman (Barry)

Harley Quinn (DC)

Cassie Thomas (Promising Young Woman)

Deadpool (Deadpool)

Subversions:

1. The antihero feels guilt. Oftentimes, an antihero is depicted as stone-cold and dead-set on their actions (and sometimes they’re right! If someone killed my family, I wouldn’t care about “being the bigger person”). However, an interesting subversion may be guilt or self-awareness surrounding their actions playing a large role in the execution of their goals.

2. The antihero is not a lone wolf, and develops meaningful and positive relationships with others rather than having it be 90% snarky banter. Sometimes, antiheroes suffer from a lack of three-dimensionality due to most of their dialogue being cheeky one-liners. Anchor them solidly into the story by building a web of relationships to support them! (They don’t have to all be lovey-dovey, either! Even enemy relationships can be more than snark).

3. An honor code. Giving an antihero with an interesting honor code regarding killing, stealing, or any of their other morally gray deeds could be an excellent subversion! Having characters who are stone-cold killers but draw the line (perhaps in an odd way, such as refusing to steal cars or kill pets), somewhere can be a great way to develop their personality and show the readers their motivations.

Hope these all helped, and happy writing!

[lalal-99]

of sex at parties {h.j.} | track 4

©June 2023, April 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6k

Synopsis: The one where you play Truth or Drink and things get a little heated.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I know, I know... I wanted to have shorter chapters and update more frequently. But life happens. And it just so happens that I rediscovered my love for music making and production (not that anyone cares or even reads my notes). These things tend to engulf me fully and don't let me go until I'm forced out of them. When will I post the next chapter? Who knows? Could be tomorrow. Could be in two months (not likely...).

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“That’s almost too easy! Fuck Psy, Marry Bang PD and Kill JYP. Next!”

Yuqi’s answer sent Hwasa into a fit of laughter, almost bursting her pipes as she spat her drink into the nearby sink.

“Girl, you got some explaining to do about that.” When Wheein had prompted the blonde, she likely hadn’t expected an answer within two seconds.

“What do I have to explain about that? JYP was the obvious choice for Kill. Psy is famously known as the mother-father gentleman, so Fuck. And Bang PD…He has that TXT money. So, marry him and hopefully prevent him from signing any kind of prenup.” Yuqi took a sip from her cocktail, shrugging. The answer sent Hwasa straight into another breathless cough while her girlfriend steadied her. Otherwise she would have also sent her head straight into the marble countertop.

Two hours of dancing and three of Yuqi’s mysteriously strong cocktails after your arrival, you found yourself back in the kitchen. While all your closest friends surrounded you, everything seemed just a bit brighter. And a bit more funny too, with the alcohol running through your system. You were so relaxed even, you had somehow agreed to playing a few rounds of Truth or Drink. That you barely knew these people, or maybe because of it, you found yourself enjoying it more than usual.

So much so you had played it for the past 20 minutes, passing around questions with one simple rule. Either answer or empty your drink.

Sure, the gamification of drinking wasn’t the most intelligent decision. But it also gave you the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. So, what the heck!

“Okay, fair.”

Yuqi spun the bottle once Wheein had passed her answer as acceptable. The rim landed on Changbin this time, the only male in your group. Leaned back against the counter, you had almost forgotten he was present. Well, almost, hadn’t it been for his visible affection for Yuqi. He always laughed at her answers a bit too loud, looked at her a little too long. She had ignored him for the most part, though you doubted it was out of spite or disinterest. She didn’t even realise his attempt to grab her attention; too drunk and into the game.

Changbin waited for her question, watching her lips move as she phrased it seconds later.

“Body count. Go!”

A little cliché, yes, though the boy seemed indifferent about it.

“Depends. What body count are we talking about?” Changbin counter-questioned as he crossed his buff arms over his bottle.

“What kind of freaky stuff are you into that you have several types of body count?”

Redness spread from Changbin’s cheeks to his ears as he shifted.

“I’m not into anything weird,” he defended, embarrassed by her suggestion. “I was talking more about sex or, like, mouth and hand stuff.”

“Alright. Let’s do sex.” That gave him base to answer.

“Then two.”

“Two?” Hwasa was surprised, leaning forward as she propped herself onto the countertop. She was a little shaky, swaying back and forth on her elbows.

“Yes. You sound shocked.”

“Why so few?” Yuqi’s filter had subsided somewhen between drinks four and five. The words simply tumbled out of her mouth at this point.

“Because,” Changbin shifted his weight onto the other leg, stalling. Not that his answer was particularly weird as it was double your body count, after all. But you couldn’t deny your own surprise. Until now, he had seemed very sure of himself. Carrying himself with a fair amount of self-confidence; almost oozing sex-appeal. You, too, had expected his body count to be much higher. “I don’t sleep with anyone I’m not involved with. I had two long-term relationships in High School, back-to-back. So, two people’s not weird.”

“What about the hand and mouth stuff body count?”

Changbin smirked at Yuqi’s curiosity, bringing his bottle to his lips, “Only one question per round.”

“Suspicious,” Yuqi’s eyes narrowed, “but alright.”

“Great, my turn then.” Changbin spun the bottle and the cap-part landed on Hwasa. She straightener her back, daringly waving her hands at him.

“Hit me!”

Contemplating his options, Changbin took a few seconds to find an appropriate question. Which wasn’t easy seeing he didn’t know and had barely spoken to her. “Okay. What was the most public place you ever had sex in?” Considering the expected sexual direction this game had taken, the question was fitting.

Hwasa ran her long nails through her hair, eyes fixing on Wheein in deep thought. “There’s been a few. What do you think, babe?”

“I don’t know. The whirlpool at my parent’s house?”

“Nah. That’s still pretty private. Your parents weren’t even home.”

Searching the mental drawers of her brain, Hwasa found a more fitting memory. She sent a knowing look towards her girlfriend, logging in her final answer. “I know. When we did at the movies.”

Wheein cocked an eyebrow as she took a strong sip from her drink. Her gaze, meanwhile, remained fixed on the colourful liquid, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah... That wasn’t me.”

“Of course it was!” Hwasa exclaimed, gesturing with her hands to revive the memory. “We watched that awful Tom Cruise movie.”

“I’ve never seen a Tom Cruise movie in my life.”

Hwasa should have left it at that, but her intoxicated brain didn’t take the hint. Knowing the crucial details of their backstory together—courtesy to Yuqi and her impressive interrogational skills—you sent her warning glares. Though she was too focused on her girlfriend to notice.

As extroverted as you had learned her to be, Hwasa had her fair share of relationships in the past. She had been with many men and women alike; some more serious and others not so much. Like her friends-with-benefits situation with Jackson, for example. After dating a lot through High School and the first two years of college, she eventually met Wheein. They loved each other very much, as anyone could tell after spending a few hours with them. An unspoken dynamic remained nonetheless, with Wheein being far less experienced.

She had been with men only for the first 20 years of her life. It took her another year to realise why her interest in them had never stuck. And another year after that to come to terms with her sexuality. That’s when she met Hwasa, their eventual relationship the first serious one she had ever been in. Let alone with a woman.

For as much as they loved each other, Wheein became insecure whenever Hwasa mentioned her previous partners.

So, yes. Hwasa should have probably let it be. But she didn’t.

“Erm, we sure did. I can’t believe you don’t remember. We got one of those loveseats in the last row, but the movie was so bad we started making out and stuff.” She didn’t need to explain and stuff further for you to know what she was hinting at. “I distinctly remember because my hair kept tangling up in your earrings. Almost lost an ear for sex that day.”

Clearing her throat, Wheein stepped back to lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Wasn’t me. See.” She lifted her hair, showing her ears to her girlfriend. It took a few seconds to realise her ears weren’t pierced. “It must have been one of your exes.”

A veil of tension spread over you at the hint of malaise in her voice. Hwasa’s cheeks heated up, a manicured nail between her teeth at the realisation.

“Oops.”

Despite the music blasting through the speakers, the silence was thick. It broke only once Yuqi spoke up. You had never been happier about her ability to find the place to pick up previous conversations.

“I had sex in a whirlpool once.” Heads turned in her direction as her face scrunched up at the memory. “Very sexy, but not comfortable. And then there’s the issue of protection. Who in their right mind carries a condom when sitting in a whirlpool?”

“So? What did you do?” Changbin’s curiosity was very sparked.

“We took a chance.” A shockwave overtook the crowd as though Yuqi had said something controversial. “I know. I’m not proud of it, either. But as I said, it was very sexy, and we didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“I definitely do not recommend taking a chance. Especially not for the sake of not ruining the mood.”

All eyes turned to you as you spoke, only acknowledging your words once they had come out of your mouth. Maybe you should go slower on the alcohol, as your body started to act on its own account.

“Speaking from experience?” Hwasa questioned with a smirk as you took another sip from your drink before finally setting it down.

“A friend of mine,” you explained, crossing your arms as you leaned against the fridge behind you. “She winged it once and got pregnant.”

“Damn! How old was she?”

“14 and a half.”

“That’s rough. Did your friend keep it?”

“He’s turning four in November.”

Most colour drained from Yuqi’s face at those words and a shudder ran through her body. “Now I’m kinda glad the only thing I got from my story was a cold.”

The crowd fell into a bunch of giggles at Yuqi’s honesty, the tensive mood finally fading. She should consider her ability to cut right through tension a gift.

Your gaze tiptoed through the doorway into the living area where they met a familiar figure. Over the past half-hour, you had searched his attention on occasion. The alcohol in your system encouraged the search for proximity to Jisung. Now that you had reached the early morning hours, the crowd started dissolving, and it became much easier for you to follow his movements. That he had the same urge for your closeness hadn’t gone by you. Several longing gazes had found you, which the vibrating egg inside you had at least some part in.

Jisung was still with most of his friends—sans Changbin, who was with you, and Felix, who had left a while ago. Instead, a few girls had entered the chat, most prominently a girl around your age and height. Why was she so prominent? Well, she seemed to find anything and everything your boyfriend said hilarious. She threw her black bob-cut-hair back so much, you feared she'd break her neck. She had started a conversation with your boyfriend earlier and now hung on his every word.

While you had checked their whereabouts at first, you stopped once you noticed Jisung’s nonverbal cues. The constant gazes your way and his lip wandering between his teeth with every uncomfortable chuckle. They told you he did anything but enjoy the banter the skimpily-clad girl had engaged him in.

Your suspicion proved correct when Jisung reached into his pocket and the vibrations picked up. Reassurance, that while he was talking to someone else, his mind was still entirely with you.

You probably should have helped out your boyfriend. You knew he couldn’t act on his unwillingness to continue talking to her. Though Jisung had to learn to handle such situations at some point. And you were having such a blast with your friends, so you let him be. The group was still debating their most public sexcapades and your head turned back as your lips wrapped around your bottle.

Apparently, your diverting glances hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you not bothered by that?”

Looking down at yourself, you feared your outfit had malfunctioned in some way. You knew you shouldn’t have worn a skirt to a frat party, but Yuqi had convinced you out of your faded black jeans. You always wear them. Spice it up a little. Unbeknownst to her, you had already spiced it up, the egg inside you rubbing against your walls with delicious pressure. But you still let yourself be talked into the skirt. Now, you regretted all your life decisions as a group of people stared at you.

“Why? What is it?” You searched your outfit for the origin of Hwasa’s statement.

“I’m talking about your boyfriend. Talking to another girl.”

You found the two of them again, eyes wandering up and down the girl’s sporty figure. Her long legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that reached her narrow waist. A crop top and pair of spotless white sneakers rounded off her athletic look. Her hand ran through her jet-black hair and that was all it took to detect that she was flirting. If her longing glances at Jisung hadn’t already been hint enough.

“And a pretty one,” Yuqi added as you focused on the group again, shaking your head.

“Not really, no. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. I’d be if it were my girlfriend, talking to her.” Wheein blushed at Hwasa’s words, damage control overshadowing her previous insecurity.

“I wouldn’t be too worried,” Changbin interjected, grabbing your attention. “She’s been coming on to each of us at least once tonight. She started off with Chris and made her way down the line.”

“Even if she didn’t. They’re only talking.” You met Jisung’s gaze, his lips morphing into a smile once he noticed. The vibrations spiked on cue, and it took a little more focus from you not to react. “I trust him.”

Little could have destroyed the trust you had for each other. Either of you understood that you had gotten lucky. Being with your best friend and finding your soulmate this early on. Apart from that, neither of you had ever given the other a reason to mistrust them. You were smart enough to not let anything risk what you had.

When Jisung excused himself from the group, your sense of awareness was proven yet again. He left the girl mid-conversation to join your separate party which filled you with pride. His cheeks squished into their usual round shape as he beamed at you until he landed at your side.

“Are you talking about me, or am I so pretty you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin landed on your shoulder. “It’s when he says things like that, that I know I’m stuck with him for life.”

The girls and Changbin chuckled at your words, Jisung meeting your gaze with a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby. I love you.”

The stupid grin forming on his lips warmed your heart. “Love you, too.”

Your group picked up their game of Truth or Drink while your boyfriend stood wrapped around you. You tried focusing while Hwasa spun the bottle to land on you. The alcohol in your system caused a constant buzz, goosebumps rising as she asked you about secret kinks.

Your friends went positively berserk when you told them about your exhibitionistic tendencies. Not you. Not well-behaved Y/N, who never even swore. You refrained from further mentioning how you sometimes ditched underwear in everyday situations. Yuqi’s eyes would have probably bulked out of her skulls, comic-book-style. You also didn’t note your fondness of public play, fearing Hwasa would suffocate, forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry, but I can’t believe we could walk in on you two getting your freak on, entering a lecture hall. Or the cafeteria. Or the football court. Although…Would we walk out on you in that case?” Hwasa questioned once she had found the brainpower to pick her jaw up from the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you told your friend in amusement. “We’re pretty good at hiding. You wouldn’t even know we’re there.”

A whole new set of toxins filled your bloodstream as you talked something so dirty. Quickening palpitations were enforced by your boyfriend, pulling you closer against himself. The mere mention of your spicy secret was enough to drive him crazy. He seemed even more excited, being the only one knowing you were living your kink right that second.

Your very sexy, very tempting boyfriend shared your interest in all things exhibitionist. Although you usually kept the PDA down whenever around people. Sure, you exchanged kisses here and there. But even hugging typically only occurred when no one was around. It was somewhat precautional. So people around you weren’t even slightly suspicious when you decided to go commando. Or if either of you controlled whatever Bluetooth vibrator the other was wearing. No one would suspect anything like that from the couple that hardly held hands in public.

Your friends accepted your revelation after many more questions, which remained unanswered. They went off-topic—or rather, off you as the focus of it—as they debated their willingness to have sex in public. And you didn’t dare complain.

This way, no one noticed Jisung’s hand creeping up the back of your thigh until he reached your ass. He kissed the back of your neck, blowing cool air against the moist skin as it tickled you. Trying to stay calm and keep your secret antics secret from your friends was half the fun. You bit the inside of your cheek as his breath tickled you, his teeth soon moving to nibble at your earlobe.

The two of you swayed to the music, concealing your ass which was grinding against his growing bulge. It was no surprise when you felt him stiffen against the movement, a proud smirk appearing on your face.

Your ability to turn each other on in seconds was still as present as during the first few weeks together.

“Baby,” Jisung hummed against your ear, hands grabbing your hips to still you.

“Mhm.”

The music was loud, and the people around you were drunk enough so no one could follow your conversation.

“It’s been about three hours of me playing with you like this. How about we tend to that upstairs bedroom situation?”

“I don’t know.” The wondering tone in your voice was fake, teasing, and Jisung could tell. “I’m not convinced. Also, kinda having a blast here.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of conviction,” Jisung whispered, lips wandering over your neck. His hands travelled under your shirt, fingers digging into your flesh as he manhandled you towards the exit. “It’s been over a week since we last did it. You’re as desperate as I am.”

“Am I?”

“We should go upstairs. You know, to check.”

Inspecting your surroundings, right now seemed the best possible moment to leave. Everyone was deep in conversation, attention straying from the two of you.

“Okay. But let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the party.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna be real fast.”

Jisung took you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase at the back of the room. You looked back at the group as Oohs and Get Its were thrown your way and gave your friends a thumbs up.

From that moment on, your mind was on Jisung.

You ran up the stairs behind him, and into the dim, unoccupied hallway. Once you had ensured you were on your own, you pulled Jisung back to finally kiss him.

His hands came to your hips on impact, keeping you steady against him as your mouth opened to let him in. Tongues intertwining and teeth clashing, he stepped forward, pushing you against the wall. Jisung didn’t take a breather, grinding himself against you and giving you no time to think. People could have come out of one of the rooms at any point, catching you. Not a hint of secrecy remained as the alcohol and your boyfriend’s tasted roamed your veins.

Soon enough, his mouth travelled down your jaw, tongue meeting the skin of your throat in a longing suck. He went all in, his hands running up your body until he met your breasts. The pressure against your throat provoked a throaty moan.

You hummed at his actions, feeling even more desperate for his full attention.

With your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer to your chest, his lips soon pressed against your cleavage. It reddened under his kisses and your breathing accellerate as he rubbed over your nipples. H knew your body better than you, strong arms keeping you in place as he handled you the way that always made you go crazy. Made you crave him.

“Baby—” you groaned into the air, head thrown back to grant him more access to your neck.

“Told you, you were as desperate as me.” The smugness in his voice remained uncommented as both his hands dipped under your bra. He pinched your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and you ground yourself against him. A gush of wetness filled your panties as though they weren’t already soaked. It had been hours of him, controlling the vibrations inside you. “I bet you’re leaking out of your panties.” Jisung’s hand ran down your side until it reached the edge of your skirt. He felt below it, fingers dancing over your hot skin until his palm landed at your centre, cupping you. A groan left his lips. “Mhm, just like I said. You’re dripping.”

“Fine. You caught me,” you admitted with a sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, though?”

His face remained close as he turned the vibrations to the max, giving you no chance to prepare. Bending your knees at the rush of pleasure, you moaned into his mouth, pleading up at him. With his hand still cupping you, he could feel every contraction of your walls. Two of his fingers pushed the egg deeper into you. His palm against your clit further increased the electricity coursing through your veins.

“Did you say something?” Your mind blurred from the vibrations as mumbled pleas tumbled over your lips. Jisung smirked at your inability to form words, the toy slowing down after a while. “Didn’t think so.”

When he opened the door to the first bedroom he found, you followed him inside. Before he could even ask you to strip, you were already starting to undress. You were about to take your skirt off when Jisung stopped you with a request you couldn’t find it in you to deny.

“Leave it on.”

Of course, your insatiable, horny boyfriend would want to fuck you in a mini-skirt. You hadn’t worn anything that short in years. Add stockings and a cropped Rolling Stones shirt, and this would have come close to the outfit you had met him in.

Jisung removed his clothes, tight jeans requiring more attention as he struggled pushing them over his erection. After watching him take forever to rid himself of the confines, you decided to help him. Guiding his hands away from his crotch, you took over. A suggestive smile played on your lips as you held eye contact, dragging the pants over him and down his toned legs.

He expected you to lay back down once he was freed, letting him push you back into submission. Though, you had other plans at that moment.

Stripping your boyfriend of his briefs, his length looked too delicious to let the moment go by. So, you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

First, you concentrated on the head. You let the tip of your tongue dance over him before adding further lip action. After mere seconds, he was red and swollen, droplets of white crawling down the sides. He was twitching against your lips, head rolling back at the delightful dissatisfaction. Slow-paced ministrations were as arousing to him as they were frustrating, so you already expected his irritation.

Not a minute later, Jisung’s hands crept to the back of your head, attempting to guide you further down. In the current power position you found yourself in, you wouldn’t have any of that.

“Don’t move, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“’s not enough,” Jisung mumbled but complied, hands resting on your cheeks instead. “I need more.”

“I know. Just enjoy.”

You moved back to his head, sucking at him as your fingers dug into his thighs. They twitched against your touches, every other suck making him weak in the knees as they buckled.

Once Jisung started panting, you sped up, fitting more of him into your mouth. You could tell it became harder for him to hold back, hips bucking into your mouth on occasion. You didn’t stop him, enjoying his despair for the warmth and the lustful sight only you could provide him with. It made you feel powerful, the dominant side overtaking the logical one as you took him as deep as possible.

Gagging around him, a breathy “Fuck!” escaped him as he got oh so close to his orgasm. At some point, he must have taken the remote control out of his pocket. As he was nearing the edge, the vibrations increased, causing a moan to slip past your lips and around his length. He stifled an ecstatic scream with the back of his hand.

Your performance suffered for a mere second and Jisung took the opportunity to pull out. With new-found energy, he shoved you to lay on your back.

Typically, you held the more dominant position in bed. Sending your boyfriend to heaven by riding him like there was no tomorrow. All the more exciting was it when Jisung was so on edge he couldn’t stand your teasing. When he couldn’t wait to be inside you. That’s when he used his physical superiority to overpower you and have it his way.

You definitely had a soft spot for how he dominated you when he was particularly desperate.

With your back against the mattress and his arms on either side of your waist, there was no way for you to get up. Jisung used this advantage to connect his mouth to your breast, sucking at your nipple like you loved. Your eyes rolled back at the incredible sensitivity of each of his touches. After spending significant time at your chest—granting both sides the same amount of attention—he kissed his way further down. He flipped your skirt up and over your stomach, your underwear long stripped and you left exposed.

Desperate to get inside you, you expected him to remove the vibrator and replace it with himself. When he started kissing your thighs and stomach, you were surprised. Though you didn’t dare complain. Not when his lips burned your skin, threatening to leave lingering marks.

“So sweet.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear the whispered words against your core. The smile creeping onto your face turned to a loud moan as Jisung dove in. His lips found your clit, wrapping around it in a harsh hug. When he started sucking on you, the vibrations speeding up again, you believed you saw stars.

Your vision blurred, eyes moving to watch him, but you could barely make out shapes. Too overwhelming was his mouth on you, hips soon rolling against him to urge for more speed. A smirk against your flesh was followed by him repositioning your legs over his shoulders. It made him feel so much closer, your bodies basically becoming one. His mouth practically glued to your cunt.

At first, Jisung kept an agonising slow pace, eating you like he had all the time in the world. After a while, as your breathing sped up, so did your boyfriend’s mouth. For every count that your heartbeat accelerated, so did he. Licking a little preciser, sucking a little fiercer. All the while, he was grinding against the mattress, chasing his own release which was fast approaching. So much so you could tell from the humming against your core that sent shivers up your spine.

“Sungie—” you breathed out, hand coming to his hair to stop him. “Baby. Inside. Please.”

As he didn’t react at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you. You repeated your pleas, and finally, with a wall-tightening pull on your clit, he removed his lips from you. “I heard you the first time. Just couldn’t bring myself to stop yet.”

His words caused a breathy chuckle out of you as he took the vibrator out of you before kissing his way back up your body.

“You have protection?” you questioned as your fingers grazed his cheeks, heart eyes staring into your boyfriend’s.

“Always.” Connecting your lips in a soft kiss, Jisung got up for a few seconds to search his pants.

“Good thing we’re always prepared, huh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched your boyfriend take his wallet out of his pocket. All the talking about public sex and taking chances had unlocked some long overwritten memories, and you chuckled with an uncomfortable shiver. “At least now we are.”

The look on Jisung’s face faltered as he went through every compartment of his wallet. Once, twice, and then a third time. You could tell from his expression that something was wrong. “Actually, about that…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have condoms.”

“It seems like I forgot to fill up my stock. Don’t you have one with you?” Jisung asked, searching for your clothes on the bedroom floor.

“Have you seen my outfit? I barely have enough room for my phone.”

“Oh, I have seen your outfit, alright.” A suggestive smirk followed his reply as he climbed back over your body. “That skirt is doing things to me I can’t possibly put into words.”

Kissing you with more passion, Jisung’s lips soon wandered down your neck again.

“I could pull out.”

The laugh coming through your lips as you tilted your neck for better access was much sarcastic. “Have you learned nothing from the past? We are not taking chances.”

“So, we’re supposed to not have sex instead? Have you learned nothing from the past 20 minutes? We need this.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, view roaming through the room. Jisung’s gaze said something along the lines of ‘You have a plan, right?’. And a plan you had. Rolling out from under your boyfriend, you crawled over to the nightstand. “What’s one thing every frat always has at hand?” You pulled open the upper drawer, feeling its content as a smile spread on your lips. “I knew it.”

With an overjoyed “Yes!”, Jisung grabbed the silver square from your hands, opening it with his teeth. “This screams for a celebration?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The ambiguous grin crossing your boyfriend’s face made you curious and aroused you simultaneously. From experience, you knew his ideas in this area never quite disappointed. Most of them added into your bedroom routine; adapted into your standard practices.

Jisung soon crawled back over your body, erection pressing against your entrance as he held the vibrator between his fingers. “Baby?”

“Ssh.” One of his fingers came to your mouth as he smiled at you, happy. “Just enjoy.”

When he slipped inside you, your walls instantly wrapped around him. Sculptured for his exact shape and size. Having him this close, hitting your spot as though he himself had placed it right at his tip, filled you with complete satisfaction. You could have remained in this position for hours. Being close to him. Warming him. Though soon enough, the calm inside you was forced to evacuate, the electrifying vibration of the pink egg meeting your clit.

You jumped at the feeling that was only enforced as Jisung started moving. Rapidly. Sending you to heaven within seconds as you crumbled around him. Nothing but his name escaped your lips, like a holy mantra.

It didn’t take either of you long to finish, both of you on edge from having waited over a week to be together like this. Which, quite frankly, rarely happened. And when the orgasm finally hit, toes curling and walls crashing, it sent him into his own high.

It took you minutes to come back down to earth.

“Damn.” You chuckled, agreeing, and your eyes met when you tilted your head to look up at him. You rested on his chest as it rose in unison with your breathing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy before you pulled away to get up from the bed.

“You want to go back already?”

While you retrieved your clothes from the floor, your boyfriend still laid in bed, naked, propped up on his elbows. “What? You need more aftercare or something?”

“Nah. I thought you might. That was really intense just now.”

You pulled your top over your head, tugging it in your skirt before strutting towards him. With your fists planted on the mattress, you bowed over him, giving him a long, heated kiss. He bit your lip as you drew away, one of his hands coming to your jaw to keep you still.

“I need to pee.”

“Wow,” Jisung replied with a giggle, letting go of your face. “You’re nailing the dirty talk, baby.”

You blew a kiss at him as you walked to the door, leaving the room to find a bathroom.

A long hallway with a handful of doors on each side opened before you. The house was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, fitting around a dozen people. And that was just the first floor. Any of these doors could lead to a bathroom but this was somewhat urgent. So, you opted for a rushed yet systematic approach.

You chose the door next to the one you had come out of, finding nothing but an empty bedroom. Much like the one your boyfriend was currently dressing in. The door after that was some form of storage unit, the only thing close to a toilet a bucket on the floor. If your search came up empty, you might revisit the idea.

One after another door led to more disappointment. Not until you opened the last door on the left side you found a room that wasn’t an unoccupied bedroom. It still was a bedroom—very much so—but it wasn’t even close to vacant.

The layout came into focus, illuminated by a ring light standing in the corner. As you further roamed the room, you spotted two bodies pressed together in the comfort of one of the two beds. You had no idea how you even got a close enough look to realise you knew one of the two people. It was likely your eyes, meeting for a second. That’s when you recognised his signature freckles, his face dropping as panic overshadowed.

“I’m sorry.” As fast as you had entered the room, you left it, eyes wide in confusion and surprise. It took you less than a few seconds to add two and two together.

Before you could think further about it, you got pulled out of your haze by none other than your boyfriend.

“Found a bathroom, baby?”

“Huh?” He tiptoed towards you and a grin spread on his features as he inspected a stinging hickey on your neck.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t find one.” You smiled as he pulled you closer, kissing the dark mark. “I’ll use the one downstairs.”

“Let’s get back then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right?” A wink followed his question which you didn’t have the mind to return properly. You couldn’t quite forget what you had seen, hands entangling with your boyfriend’s as you threw one last look back into the hallway.

Next Chapter >>>

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[domaystic]

It's Domaystic 2024!

Hello, hello! This is the third year of DOMAYSTIC, a domestic trope based prompt event running in May :D

This is the main post for the event and in the picture above there are the prompts.

They're 31 prompts (no alts this time), but they are also divided in three main categories, which I loosely labelled as "people from everyday life" from 1 to 10; "things from everyday life" from A to J; and "general-container-stuff that can be bent to one's own desires" from roman number I to X. Plus, at the very end, a free choice option (we never had one and the days are not even ahahah).

List of prompts

Category: people from everyday life 01. driver 02. shop assistant 03. plumber 04. public servant 05. teacher 06. receptionist 07. mechanic 08. health professional 09. baker 10. landlord

Category: things from everyday life A. konmari B. me/us time C. shopping points D. odd appliances E. building renovations F. frozen G. memento H. wild animal I. ritual J. dreadful weather

Category: general-container-stuff I. proverb II. tutorial III. poll IV. numbers V. emergency VI. quiz VII. cliché VIII. art IX. official document X. song

* free choice

Guidelines, tags example, AO3 link under the cut!

General rules and guidelines

Domaystic is open to any fandom or original content.

Any kind of media is welcome. You choose your way of expression.

There are no limits/restrictions on how your fill should be.

There’s a total of 31 prompts for 31 days.

To join the event one can do a prompt a day following the list as it is; or following the sequence they prefer; or only the ones of their liking, even just one.

Or, and this is my challenge proposition for anyone who wants to take it: try to combine one prompt from each one of the three categories + the free choice. Which in total would produce 10 fills + 1 if all are done.

Share your work anywhere you want or keep it to yourself, that's fine. If you share it on tumblr and tag this blog, I’ll reblog it.

If you also want to combine these prompts with another fandom event, that's okay.

Domaystic runs actively throughout May; if you join or tag the blog on a later date, that's fine too, I just reblog on a lower pace after May is over.

In case of lengthy posts on tumblr, use the "read more" option: ctrl-shift-k on rich text; [[*MORE*]] on html (remove asterisks)

AO3 collection

The domaystic2024 collection is open from May, 1st: click here - info and prompts are also on the profile page.

Tagging your tumblr post:

Mention the blog in your post @domaystic - tracked tag: #domaystic2024

State the fandom name or if it is original content

State if it is sfw or nsfw

Please, always TAG PROPERLY for any trigger warning. I will base my own reblog on your tags so, please, take even a moment longer to carefully tag it. I hope all participants to stay safe in this event.

Here’s an example:

It took me 2 nights to write this @domaystic, look at my stuff! #domaystic2024 #[fandom name or original content] #[sfw or nsfw] #[trigger warnings that I get from your post] tw

And this is it! For any question, doubt, etc. the askbox is always open :)

Hi @thebigbangblogproject, can you reblog this? Thanks :D

[nouearth]

hear me out — peter is the epitome of the ‘hot nerd’ trope 🙏🏻 he’s a nerd, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s not athletic. he attracts a crowd when they’re playing shirts and skins ‘cause he’s ‘surprisingly attractive for a nerd’ and also good at his sport of choice. he’s an integral part of the team so of course he’s part of the frat sure some of the other guys are dicks to him sometimes but he’s one of them! he’s always at their parties too, just hanging out by himself in a corner mostly but (cue cliché) some of the aforementioned dicks encourage him to ‘lose his virginity’ ‘cause they assumed he was a virgin and he goes through with it except he chooses to sleep with reader who’s the captain of the opposing team. alternatively: he bonds with reader at one of the frat’s parties over their shared interests and they hook up. not necessarily a request, just a thought i had :)

💌 : wait, i love this prompt so much... i might write it, HAHA (also, idk why i'm picturing... haikyuu vibes if we were to go a fluffy route).

like, i love how peter is slightly an outcast at times in his own team simply because he's not a dick, and prefers laying low instead of streaking naked across campus or something. reader is more of a responsible and caring captain as opposed to peter's captain who's a bit more arrogant, and your typical egotistical jock. already, that makes peter attracted to reader, and vice versa because there's humility in their own skills. they'd probably find common ground in feeling like an outlier in their own team, which is strange for reader since he's literally captain. maybe the team likes to go out and have drinks without him? think he's a boring know-it-all (who is always right in the end), but in the end, reader is what keeps the team together and is crucial in helping them win their games.

and you know how the teams have to give each other a handshake after the end of a game? imagine reader and peter holding onto each other's hands a little too long, their palms sticking to each other's rather than slipping from the sweat.

"good game." "you too."

AHHHH. WRITE IT DOWN, WRITE IT DOWN.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

heyy, maybe prompts 13 and 18 for mindy meeks martin??

‘’Shut up.’’ ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’ + ‘’You have no idea how much I want you.’’

Warnings: smut, masturbation (there was a lot more to the plan, but it was getting too long)

my taglists are here (I added one for SCREAM) + you can requests here at any time

—

If you and Mindy were a romance cliché, you would be the roommates trope. Chad liked to make fun of his sister for falling into a cliché when all her life she’s been emphasizing on how different she was.

When your relationship became serious, you and Mindy did some rearrangement to the dorm. You pushed the beds together to make one big bed, tired of having to squeeze into one of the twin beds, and got rid of the shirtless Henry Cavill poster that the previous girl had left there. It was really not your vibe.

A sight left your lips, filling the quiet of the dorm. You had been playing on your switch while Mindy was sitting at her desk, working on her film class assignment. It was due for tomorrow so she really needed to get it done before joining you for your nightly movie. You had started this little routine as a way to unwind and spend time together, as if you didn’t already spend 80% of your day together.

You turned your video game off and called Mindy.

‘’I’m almost finished, babe. I just really need to write about this one aspect that I know will get me a lot of bonus points and then we’ll watch a movie.’’

You liked her cinematic-nerd side, but these assignments were getting longer each time.

Another sigh left your lips and you grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media for a few. Quinn had posted a thirst-trap of herself in a tight dress, either heading to a Tinder date or trying to attract DMs from the male gender.

Taking inspiration from Quinn, you put your phone down and decided to tease your girlfriend.

‘’Mind!’’

‘’I’m almost finished,’’ she repeated, her eyes not quitting her laptop screen. ‘’Give me twenty minutes.’’

‘’Mindy!’’

This time, she peeked a glance at you over her shoulder and groaned, feeling her core tighten when seeing your breasts pulled out of your shirt. ‘’Fuck. How am I supposed to focus on school work now? You know I can’t think straight when I see those.’’ Mindy narrowed her eyes, giving you a pointed look. ‘’Are you trying to sabotage my grades?’’

You gave her your best innocent look. ‘’I’m bored,’’ you said, reaching your hand up to your left breast and rubbing your nipple.

Watching you touch yourself and not being able to join you was torture for Mindy. She wanted to ditch her assignment so badly, but she doubted Mrs. Crane would find your teasing a valid enough reason to not give her a bad mark.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, groping your other breast and making it even harder for Mindy to resist.

‘’You have no idea how much I want you. I really, really want to suck on those pretty nipples, but I have to resist the temptation and finish this assignment first. Then—’’ Mindy’s face switched, giving you a dark look, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘’Oh, I have a lot in mind, my love.’’

Her words sent butterflies to your pussy, making it tingle with excitation.

Instead of being good and patient, you decided to push your teasing a notch further and rid yourself of your skirt and underwear. You parted your legs open and brought one of your hands to your folds, sliding your finger up and down a couple of times, drawing out a sigh of pleasure.

It was evil, but you were in a naughty mood…and craving your girlfriend’s attention.

The soft sounds coming from your mouth caught Mindy’s attention, a curse slipping from her lips at the scene behind her. Might as well call it a personal X-rated live-show.

You raised your head, eyes meeting Mindy’s before you raised it to rub slowly against your clit. ‘’Aah, Mindy.’’

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching intently as you now pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in hard, fast circles as your other hand pulled at your nipple.

You moaned at your own touch, then dropped your fingers lower and pushed two inside yourself. ‘’Mmh. I wish it was your mouth on my clit and your fingers instead of mine—‘’

‘’Shut up.’’ Her voice sounded deeply frustrated.

A grin crossed your lips. ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’

You didn't need to tell her twice.

—

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[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 8

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Illusions of cheating, infidelity, Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

This one got a little angsty 🥀

Marriage was known to be hard work, a long running admittance that was shrouded with humour by those who had known the struggles first hand of maintaining a happy and healthy relationship. Fake marriages were undoubtedly twice as hard; especially when actual feelings were involved and had to be concealed.

After the honeymoon, things had turned almost platonically stale, though you had remained friendly and cordial with George, any hope of furthering your relationship was quickly shot down when you fell placidly into roommate rolls rather than anything more. It was like everything that happened on your honeymoon was forgotten, like it never happened.

Day to day, you carried on as normal, working alongside each other and cohabiting in relative peace but there was little to no intimacy anymore. George had begun sleeping in his own room as soon as you returned back from your honeymoon and had made almost no attempt to sneak into your bed again or initiate anything else in between.

It had been nearly six months since the wedding, five months and a little under two weeks since you'd returned from your honeymoon and you'd completely lost hope that anything was going to magically change between the two of you. You'd tried, at least in the beginning, to initiate more and to subtly flirt with him, trying to reclaim all that had been lost but it was pointless.

You'd had sex twice since returning from honeymoon, both of those times has been the consequence of built up of sexual tension: a release of sorts. This first time, you'd split a bottle of wine and had been watching a movie on the couch, sharing a blanket and one thing had led to another until you were riding him into the couch.

The second time had been after a thunderous meeting with the investors, in which they had found out about your marriage and therefore the redundancy of their name change order. Tempers had flared and George had remained relatively calm, if not a little cocky at their reactions which had only riled them up further. He'd kissed you in celebration of winning his case and you'd barely made it through the door to the flat before he'd taken you hard and rough against the (thankfully) closed front door. It had been messy and dirty, prompted by his business victory with a tangle of kisses, bites and wandering hands that desperately clutched at every piece of bare skin they could find.

The awkwardness that had followed the little slip of judgement had been agonising, taking days to settle down between you where you could hardly make eye contact because of your temporary lapse.

You just had to get through another year and a half of being married before you could part ways and accept that it was never going to happen with George Weasley.

The business had been booming and rightfully so as for the first time in a long time, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had launched new products, a whole new line of Wonderwitch potions. They'd been an instant hit and though it had been considerably more work for you in the potions department, you'd worked tirelessly and happily to assist the business, and George. George had even taken on two more employees recently for the shopfloor as the demand was too much for just him, Ron and Verity whilst you sorted the back of house accounts, ordering and potion making.

To boost business further, George had also accepted a deal proposed by Zonko's Joke Shop to launch a small selection of his products in Zonko's including a new Pyrotechnic, Thestral Thrasher, which was only available from Zonko's on a limited edition basis. George had essentially locked himself away for the past month in the apartment above the shop which had become his new workshop and there had been multiple nights that you hadn't seen him, had eaten alone and then gone to bed without him ever stepping foot through the door.

Putting on a brave and mildly forced smile, you checked yourself a over in the mirror one last time. Tonight Zonko's was hosting a grand opening party for the Wheezes range that they would be carrying, a hard launch into the new business venture between the two stores. As George's wife you were expected to be there with a smile on your face and a pretty gown, in support of your husband. The whole Weasley family would be there as well as close friends, basically everyone in your social circle. You knew there would be questions that you'd have to deflect all night and put on a performance which had you feeling exhausted already just thinking about it. You hoped Ginny would be deep into wedding planning for her upcoming nuptials to Harry and would dominate the conversation for the majority of the night, maybe if you brought it up with Molly it would twist things in your favour.

You smoothed down the front of your silk dress, having chosen a dark purple shade, a subtle little hint of your support of George. George had always been the 'purple' twin whilst Fred had opted to wear more orange shades, keep subtle nods to the colours of their business even in their everyday clothes. Even after George had lost his ear and Fred's death, he had still continued to wear purple shades, as if it was his distinguishing feature. You adjusted your breasts in the admittedly rather sexy dress and checked your makeup one last time before you left the flat, making your way to the next place you could apparate.

Apparating into Hogsmeade, you were immediately met with a beautiful display of a thriving town, bustling with partygoers and late night customers to the multiple tea rooms that were just about to close.

Walking across to Zonko's, you paused and burst into a smile at seeing a giant orange and purple bow placed across the entire storefront, alongside a sign that said it big, moving letters 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes now sold here'. You'd always been proud of everything Fred and George had achieved kid never felt prouder than in that moment, seeing the place you'd spent so much time in during your youth, dragged by the twins to their favourite shop for restocks now carrying their own range, and proudly so.

"Y/n!" You heard to your left, spotting Hermione waving you over as she stood with Ron and Harry slightly off from a crowd of people.

"Blimey, you look nice," Ron says as you walk over to them with a warm smile, greeting them all excitedly. You didn't miss the little glare Hermione shot to Ron at his words and couldn't help but laugh as he relented, looking as uncomfortable in his suit as he had at the Yule Ball, pulling the collar of the restrictive shirt away from his neck.

"Have you seen George?" Ginny says as she steps over to you, throwing her arms around your neck as you greet you sister in law. You smile as her hand finds Harry's almost as soon as you pull apart and shake your head at her, not having seen George at all today.

"Mum's gone looking for him, something about making sure he had eaten enough before the champagne starts but we all know it's because she saw the photographer going inside and wants in on it," Ron says with a mumble which makes you chuckle, knowing he's probably true. "Dad was with him inside."

You nod at the information, casting your eyes back to the building in the hopes you'd catch a glimpse of his red hair but there were too many people.

"Is Charlie coming?" You ask, trying to divert the conversation away from George and receive shaking heads from Ginny and Ron.

"No he's been travelling, following a horde of short-snouts somewhere in Scandinavia. Said he'd make it to the wedding but couldn't get away for this," she explains, opening the door for wedding questions.

You chatted to them for quite a while before Angelina barrelled over to you with her new boyfriend and immediately stole you away. A few hours later, you felt that you'd mingled the night away, dancing through the sea of people getting further and further away from George, who you'd not even seen yet.

"There she is," you hear a voice from behind you and when you turn, you realise that it's Bill. You visibly relax, glad to be in the company of someone you could be yourself around, not having to mingle with investors and acquaintances from your Hogwarts days you'd not seen in a while.

"Being First Lady difficult?" He teases as he wraps is arm around you, a secure and warm brotherly hug that actually helps you relax.

"Horrible, though I'm yet to actually find my husband," you admit with a laugh, looking around for Fleur who was usually by his side.

"She wanted to be here," he says, noticing your gaze for his wife, "morning sickness isn't her friend right now, mum gave her some potion for it but she can hardly keep it down," he replies with a smile. The couple had shared their happy news not too long ago and you were exuberantly happy for them, though you did empathise with Fleur's sickness.

"Well I hope she feels better soon," you say kindly, which he nods his thanks back to.

"Doubt you've seen much of him with all this happening," he says, referring to George with a nod of his head towards the building where you assumed he would be.

"Oh you have no idea," you say coyly, only realising the depth of your statement after the words had tumbled out of your mouth. If Bill noticed any undertone in your words he hid it well and you quickly diverted the conversation back to his work and his unborn child, safe topics to carry you through.

When the fourth round of champagne and various flights of butterbeer, canapés and special Honeydukes iced biscuits that had been imprinted with the signature 'W' slogan came round, you decided enough was enough. You'd mingled long enough and had waited patiently as you secretly sought out your husband but the niggling tension wouldn't go away, you wanted to find George.

You stepped inside the bustling building, seeking out his red hair and tall stature, expecting to see him over the crowd of people but it was near impossible with everyone tucked so tightly together. Each and every time you thought you'd spotted him, it turned out to be one of his siblings, all of them sporting a similar if not identical flame red hair you were looking for.

You had no idea what possessed you but you suddenly decided to slip past the employee only cordon to the stairs and ascend them quickly, hoping no one would see you or notice you'd gone.

George was clearly avoiding you, keeping himself busy with his friends, family and patrons, using them as a barricade to stay hidden from you, no doubt wanting to put a familiar distance between you like normal. You couldn't do this anymore, couldn't pretend that you were perfectly happy when in reality you felt lower than ever, having lost your last remaining best friend. You came up with a story about needing air, about being overwhelmed and needing to fix your makeup if anyone caught you, but thankfully no one stopped you.

You wished somebody had stopped you the second you crept up to the second floor and instantly spotted your husband looking very cozy with the new employee that had started only a month or two ago, both of them huddled together in the dark store room above the shop. The pain you felt was indescribable, like a guttural stab that didn't relent but you couldn't look away from the sight in front of you. They weren't kissing but George was pressed against one of the many racks, her body pressed against him with his hands beside him clutching the racking.

They hadn't spotted your presence and you hardly thought they could, completely wrapped up in each other as they whispered between themselves. You wanted to scream, cry, completely break down but you had no right, trapped in an endless cycle of feelings but without the commitment. You weren't really married, only by law and he was technically free to see whoever- even if he initially said he didn't want to.  But it didn't stop it hurting any less.

You had to get out of there, disappear to anywhere where no one was around to see you break down and finally let out the gut wrenching sobs that were threatening to burst out of you at any second. You'd lost Fred and now you were losing George, the pain of your mental statement too much to handle.

You tried to think of a way to escape through the crowd without being noticed but your mind wasn't thinking clearly, you could only think of what was in front of you, the image of them together playing behind your eyes with every blink.

You began to turn away, no longer able to stand there and watch your world collapse and prayed that you could silently retreat without them seeing. Just as you turned, movement caught your eye and you couldn't help but turn back around, silently pleading that you wouldn't have to watch them kiss.

George had pushed her away. Had he seen you?

But then you heard him clearly, his voice raised enough that it carried through the silent, dark room.

"Get off me, I don't want you," he says with conviction as he blocks her with his hands, not enough to hurt her but enough to push her back from him to create distance. "I don't know what you're trying to do but whatever it is, it won't work. I love my wife."

The force of his rather blunt statement hits you like a tonne of bricks, the power of his words actually sounding truthful. The words repeat over and over again in your head like a constant replay and you feel completely blind sighted, the rollercoaster of emotions you'd felt in the past minute too overwhelming.

"But Mr Weasley," the girl says in a rather desperate, whiny voice, trying to reach out for him again.

"What don't you understand? I'm married and I love my wife, there's nobody else I want more than her."

"Y/n."

Your eyes shoot up at the sound of your name and you're met with the green-hazel eyes of George who looks horrified at you standing there, knowing what you'd probably seen and heard. You felt his eyes burning into you, as well as the beady eyes of his companion and instantly wanted to disappear again, feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed at the whole situation. It felt like it physically hurt to look into George's eyes and you just had to get away, this time without any hesitation.

You bolted down the stairs, trying your hardest to stay silent and to not cause a scene. It was like you had tunnel vision, completely ignorant of everything happening around you as you set your sights on the door and pushed past the sea of blurred faces, moving quickly with determination until you crossed the threshold of the anti-apparition jinx and disapparated.

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@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness

@rk-ceres

@kisses4fred

@apolloleprince

@slashersimpshadow

@slytherinambitious

@screamingoverfiction

@rhunew

@tomhockstetter7-111

@hagridshaircare

@ellouisa17

@fonderaura

@clemlament

@jennapancake

@murderisfunlol

@ohantonia

@storytime-20

@guavacookie23

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@03michi01

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@katarinealbers

[scottxlogan]

1, 5, 16

Whichever ships you want to do and will work with these prompts. :)

Ask and you shall receive. Granted you've already seen them, but here is the compilation of your prompts! Thank you so much for giving them to me! They were a lot of fun!!! 1. There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close (scogan) Moment of Truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/41418771

5. Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap. (winteriron) Movie Night https://archiveofourown.org/works/42326265

16. I need a date for this wedding (sciencebros) The Invitation https://archiveofourown.org/works/41699577

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 3: TXT bias wrecker - Kai✨️

Special delivery

AN: Honestly, my TXT bias list is a fucking mess right now but, I think Kai tentatively holds the position of bias wrecker (though Yeonjun has been yelling in my ear lately). Also, it's completely by accident that my two most recent TXT fics are porn genre/trope related lol. However, I had a lot of fun writing this and my Soobin fic so, maybe I'll explore more tropes, clichés etc with different idols in future fics.

Synopsis: Kai hates his job, but he needs to pay rent. However, when a ridiculously pretty woman can't pay him and offers up another form of payment, maybe it isn't all bad.

Heads up: Huening Kai x Fem! Reader, Pizza delivery man! Kai, strangers to strangers who fuck, the plot is virtually nonexistent, porn logic applies here, implied power dynamics (more dominant Reader and more submissive Kai), praise kink (m. receiving), hints of a size kink, oral sex (m. receiving), Reader touches herself while sucking Kai off, unprotected piv sex, nipple play (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 3199

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Today sucks. It's been hot as hell the entire day, two customers gave him shit for their orders being wrong and he got a text from his roommate that their shower broke. Again. Kai is at his wit's end.

He slams the door of the delivery car harder than strictly necessary but, he can't bring himself to even pretend to care right now. To say his day has been terrible would be a gross understatement. Luckily, he only had an hour left of his shift, and then he would be a free man. That's the single thought that pushes him forward. He can do this. Just one more hour.

He's about to knock on the door of his current delivery address again before it swings open. His words die on his tongue when he takes in the very attractive woman mere centimetres away from him with a robe that leaves very little to his imagination.

"Hi! I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer. I just hopped out of the shower. Just give me a minute and I'll go get my purse," You're gone before he can utter anything in response. Images of what he thinks you look like in the shower flood his mind without much prompting. He needs to get it together. He's a grown man. He shouldn't be getting hard just from fantasising about a stranger taking a shower. Especially not when he's fucking working.

"Oh shoot, I don't have any cash on me. Do you accept card by any chance?" You ask once you return, your head titling in a way that Kai finds far too endearing.

"Um no, Miss. Sorry," he tries not to visibly cringe at the shakiness evident in his voice.

"Damn. I don't know how else I could pay you," you ponder loud, crossing your arms. Which makes him panic because the motion just causes your tits to be even more visible through your poor excuse for a robe.

He's not sure if he's just that obvious or, you have knack for these situations but, you notice him looking. He really doesn't mean to. He just can't help it. Who could really blame him? They were right there.

Before he can't comprehend what's happening, you're in his personal bubble. Eyes that were warm and welcoming moments ago now light up with knowing amusement. Kai swallows.

"Well, I could always pay you another way if you'd like," you trail off.

Now, Kai may not be the best at reading these kinds of situations, but it's clear as day what you're offering.

He knows this is probably incredibly unethical. He knows he shouldn't even be considering what you're so blatantly suggesting, but you are pretty. He'd be lying to himself if he thought otherwise. Plus, it's been longer than he cares to admit since he's gotten any action, and here you are, offering yourself up to him willingly.

He'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," he whispers, and he's caught completely off guard when you practically launch yourself at him. Eager hands winding into his hair and soft lips pressing against his. Blood rushes south so quickly that it leaves him completely disoriented. Trying his best to meet your enthusiastic kisses before he realises he's still holding your pizza like an absolute buffoon.

"Hey, s-sorry. Can I put this down somewhere?" He cringes at himself, hoping his awkward interruption hadn't completely obliterated the mood.

"Oh right, sorry. I got a little carried away there," you respond with sheepish laugh, "You can just put it on the table over there."

Once his hands are free and, to his relief, you still want to continue, he hesitantly rests them on your hips. Losing himself in your expert kisses once more and groaning against you when you experimentally tug on his hair. Blood rushing to his face when he feels you smile against his lips at that.

His brain stops functioning all together when you press yourself closer to him. Soft tits against his broad chest, your arms wrapped firmly around his neck, and your stomach flush against his quickly growing erection. He can feel so much of you all at once, and it's not helping his already delicate resolve.

"You can touch me, you know," you say once you two remember that you need to breathe. Your eyes already heavy with such blatant want that it's honestly doing fantastic things for Kai's ego.

"I did-didn't want to go too far or make you uncomfortable,"

Your giggle is like music to his ears, "Considering that I'm going to let you fuck me, I think you're fine. That's very cute, though. Thanks for thinking about my comfort."

He's not sure if his cock twitches because you so casually mentioned letting him fuck you or because you called him cute but, either way, he takes your go ahead. Large hands grabbing generous handfuls of your ass and tits, respectively. Mind already growing foggy from how soft you feel and the kisses and nips you press to his jaw.

"You're so broad," he hears you mutter softly against his neck, shudders running down his spine from the sensation. He's sure his face is flushed from your words. No one's ever called him broad in this kind of situation, and from the way his head spins, he may be learning some things about himself today.

"Th-thank you," he stutters out, not entirely sure what to say in response and still trying to make sense of this realisation as your hands greedily run along his shoulders.

"You're too fucking cute," you groan, weaving one of your hands back into his hair and tugging him down into a messy kiss. At this point, Kai is more than happy to let you do whatever you want with him. Though, he supposes, it should be the other way around given the...circumstance he finds himself in.

He gasps into your mouth, fingers biting into your skin, when you palm him over his jeans. He's already so hard, and every bit of friction you allow him makes his knees buckle.

His grip on you tightens without much thought from him when you lavish his throat with licks and open-mouthed kisses once more. Your smaller hands toying with the belt of his jeans. Not quite seriously trying to unbuckle it, but just the brushes of your fingers so close to where his aching for you makes him feel dazed.

"Please," he whines, desire and embarrassment coiling tightly in his gut.

"Please what?" You ask, a mischievous gleam in your previously warm eyes. Fingers pushing up his shirt to trace nonsensical patterns on his abdomen. Kai thinks he's either going to scream or cry.

"Plea-please touch me," he whispers, trying his utmost not to grind himself into your hand.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," before he can blink, you're on your knees in front of him. Skillfully unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

"He-Hey, you don't ha-have to do that," he says quickly, piecing together through the fog of his mind what you're planning.

"I thought you wanted me to touch you?" You ask coyly and, fuck if the sight of you staring up at him with faux confused innocence doesn't make his cock twitch.

"I- yes, I do but, I didn't- you don't have to y'know if you don't want to,"

"What makes you think I don't want to?"

Oh. You've got a point there, he concedes.

"You should relax, cutie. I'm not doing anything I don't want to," Kai hates the way his cock jumps at the wink you have the audacity to send him while tugging down his boxers and jeans.

Relief fills him when he's finally free from the increasingly restrictive confines of his bottoms, but it's fast replaced with anxiety when you just...stare at him.

God, do you think it's ugly? Is it too small? Is it curved weird? Fuck, what if you-

"So pretty," he hears you barely whisper, lidded eyes becoming glossy as you wrap, or rather attempt to wrap, your hand around him. Between the compliment that leaves him completely blindsided and the slight pressure your hand provides, he can't help the whine that bubbles out of him and the jolt of his hips into your soft hold.

Kai feels his vision blur for a second when you take your first tentative lick of him. Pretty pink tongue curiously dragging along the underside of the head of his cock. That mischievous gleam is still present in your eye, and before his brain can catch up to what's happening, he finds himself enveloped in your warm, wet mouth.

His hands weave themselves into your hair instinctively. A broken, bordering on embarrassing, moan falling from his lips when he feels your throat constrict around him. Your hand stroking everything you can't fit in that sinful mouth of yours. He thought the feeling alone would drive him to madness, but the sounds of you gagging on him sends shudders down his spine. Hips shallowly fucking you as not to overwhelm you.

However, given how eagerly your choking on his dick, he doubts he could overwhelm you even if he tried.

He cracks his eyes open with much effort and immediately regrets the decision. Your pretty face is streaked with stray tears, and the combination of your spit and his pre-cum dribbles down your chin. If that wasn't bad enough already, he notices your unoccupied hand disappear between your thighs. His muddled mind taking longer than he cared to admit to understand what you're doing.

Holy fuck, are you touching yourself right now? Is this even real? Based on the circular motions he notices your hand making and moans that are being muffled by his dick down your throat, that pretty much confirms his suspicions.

"Wait shit fuck, st-stop," he stutters out, large hands gently tugging you off of his length before he makes a fool of himself and cums in your mouth.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, looking up at him. Fuck. He can barely look at you right now. Face smeared with tears, spit and his pre-cum. Your eyes a combination of concern and still barely restrained desire. He just hopes you don't notice his cock twitch then.

"Yeah, I just- I was close,"

Warmth floods his face when a smug grin spreads across your face.

"Oh? Why stop then? I'd gladly swallow anything you're willing to give me,"

Kai closes his eyes in an attempt to collect himself momentarily. Which turns out to be a terrible idea because his mind unhelpfully supplies images of his cum streaked across your face and your tongue. God.

"I'd rather cum somewhere else,"

He tries not to feel too proud of himself at the stunned look that crosses your pretty face. It feels good to leave you a little off kilter for once.

You laugh a little breathlessly as you make your way onto unsteady feet, "So you do know how to talk." He resents the way he flushes at your teasing.

His response dies on his tongue when you gently shove him back. He lands on your couch with a soft thud, looking up at you in question only to feel his tongue turn to lead in his mouth and his cock jump against his abdomen.

You shrug off your robe. Exposing your completely nude form to Kai and, he drinks you in. Taking in your breasts and the way they jiggle with every minute bit of movement from you, the slopes of your waist and hips until eventually he zeros in on your slick upper thighs. His blood turns molten. He can't quite see your pussy as clearly as he'd like to but, the streaks of wetness he can see on your thighs makes his head spin.

"You're staring," you tease, strutting over to him. He's not sure if the sway in your hips is just for him or not, but he couldn't care less. He's mesmerised.

"I can't help it. You're beautiful,"

You stop between his legs, and for a moment, he's terrified he went too far. Was calling you beautiful too much? God, why can he never get his foot out of his fucking mout-

He's pulled out of his anxious spiral by your smaller hands cupping his face. You smile at him and proceed to kiss him softly. Your thumb caressing his jaw as he finds himself lost in you once again.

"Thank you, cutie. You're really sweet," you mutter against his mouth, making yourself comfortable in his lap. Any line of thinking Kai had going is swiftly drop kicked out of his mind when he feels your pussy glide over his cock. Based on the way your hands fly to his broad shoulders and the little gasp that leaves you, he's not the only one affected.

He thinks he might lose his mind if you don't sink down on him immediately.

"Please," he whimpers, his hands making themselves at home on your hips.

"Since you asked so n-nicely," you respond with a devious smile. His heart rate continues to tick up when your hand grasps him and lines him up with your entrance.

Kai knows he's in trouble as soon as you begin to sink down onto him. His vision blurring slightly, and his hold on you quickly becoming bruising just from his tip being enveloped by your scorching, slick walls. The little strained whimpers and moans that slip from your lips only making it all worse.

It takes everything in him not to just shove you down onto him or snap his hips up until he's fully inside of you. However, he's not so far gone in his lust that he can't see that hints of discomfort on your pretty face. He pulls you down into a kiss in the hopes of providing some form of distraction. Long fingers reaching between your soft thighs, and he can't help that small smile that finds its way onto his face when you gasp into his mouth and clench around him.

He experiments with various speeds and patterns until he finds the one that cause you to moan into him and, more of your wetness to gush down his cock. "You're taking me so well," he mutters, half-delirious from how otherworldly you feel, and he isn't even fully inside of you yet.

He isn't prepared for you to so suddenly take him all at once. Needy hands tugging on his hair and watery cries of pleasure pressed into his mouth. Kai, for his part, his just trying not to cum from all of the unexpected sensations assaulting him at once. His fingers biting into the skin of your thighs as he fights to regain his composure. Closing his eyes and kissing you back to the best of his abilities while his cock throbs inside of your velvety walls. He's so fucked.

If anyone asks, he definitely doesn't whimper when you start to move. He definitely doesn't leave indents of his fingers on your skin from how tightly he's holding onto you. He definitely doesn't keep his eyes shut just so he doesn't cum in an instant from watching how your face contorts in pleasure for him, how your tits bounce and how your unreal pussy splits open to take him. Definitely not.

His attempt at concentration is disrupted when his ears catch a strangled cry from you, and you clamp down harshly around him. He cracks his eyes open and immediately wishes he hadn't.

The light from the setting sun hits you beautifully. Forming a halo around you as you continue to ride him. Your nimble fingers toying with your nipples and, based on the whines that fall from your devious mouth, they're pretty sensitive. He can't help the way his hips jolt up into at the vision you provide. Yeonjun had always teased him for being a bit of a romantic.

Instinct guides him. His arms coming to wrap around your waist as he fucks up into you. He wouldn't be shocked to find out his eyes had crossed from the depth this angle allows him. Eager mouth latching onto one of your tempting nipples. Groaning into your skin with every lick and suck and tug of the sensitive bud. Unadulterated lust guiding him all the way.

The symphony of skin slapping against skin and your wanton cries fill the space of your living room. Your hands are restless. Not quite sure if you want to tug on his hair or steady yourself on his broad shoulders. "So good. So de-deep," he manages to catch you whine, bordering on pathetic and that just motivates him to fuck you harder. Keeping you in place with his firm grip so you have no choice but to take all of him.

Between the way you tighten and spasm around him and the increasing pitch of your moans, Kai isn't sure how much longer he can last. Teeth nearly sinking into the flesh of your tits with how wound up he is and large hands drifting downwards to grab generous handfuls of your ass.

"I-I think I'm go-gonna cum," he moans out, "Sh-should I pu-pull out?"

Your hands move to cup his face so quickly that his foggy brain takes a few moments too long to even register it. Nails biting into his cheeks and your eyes blazing as they bore into his, "Don't you dare."

Kai couldn't have stopped himself from unravelling even if he wanted to.

He's practically crushes you to his larger frame while he remains completely sheathed inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his cum painting your walls white as he moans loudly, his chest heaving and flushed with exertion.

His disoriented eyes find your frenzied ones once he's able to crack them open. Your mouth shaped in a silent O and, it only hits him when he feels you clench harshly around his softening cock and more of your wetness gushes out of you of that you're cumming. The sting in his scalp is worth it as he takes in the way you fall to pieces on top of him. Eyes fluttering shut and your body convulsing. He tries his best to soothe you through it. Pressing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. Large hands rubbing your thighs gently.

He rests against your couch when you eventually sag against him. Laboured breaths hitting the skin of his neck where you've made yourself comfortable. A combination of your releases beginning to trickle out of you and, down his spent cock and balls.

The silence is more comfortable than he anticipates. Neither of you feeling the need to fill it while you gain your bearings.

A thought hits Kai, and he panics. Feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the face of the Earth.

"What's wrong?" You mutter, fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of his hair.

"I never asked you for your name,"

Your giggle could easily be mistaken for windchimes, "Oh, is that all? It's Y/n. What's yours?"

"It-it's Kai."

"It's nice to be properly introduced to you, Kai," you respond with a dizzying smile.

Yeah, maybe today isn't all bad after all.

[buildmeafairytale]

Send me your favorite writing promts, tropes, cliches, themes, any of it! I want some inspo