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solomons-poison · 9 months

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Miscommunications

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: Well it only took ages but I finally have a Luci fic finished </3 I don't usually like miscommunication as a trope but I do really like the idea of there being such a big mixup about what's going on until everyone goes "ohhhhh" with a happy ending. This is very self-comforting... Anyway enjoy~

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: implied fem reader; poor/lack of communication, mutual pining, confessions, reader is a little bit dumb haha, talk of anxiety and self-doubt, angst to fluff, first kisses 💋; barely proofread, just take it

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 5158

You never put much stock in finding the "tall, dark, and handsome" ideal in real life. Sure, there was the occasional person that somewhat fit these characteristics, but they never really caught your eye, somehow always being more generally attractive rather than truly attractive to you. But the moment your eyes landed on the Avatar of Pride, suddenly his face clicked into place in your little visual dictionary.

The demon was gorgeous, and he knew it. Long, lean body with broad shoulders and a slim waist, combined with his deep crimson eyes and dark hair streaked with gray; he was visually stunning to you, and certainly drew the eye of many an admirer wherever he went. You often found your gaze wandering to him when he was in the room, his presence alone sending your heart stuttering. It also didn't help that he knew exactly how to trip you up in other ways, the way he’d surprise you with a suggestive comment and the rumble of his deep voice making your heart pound for other reasons. He was particularly skilled in giving you the most brain-melting bedroom eyes you’d ever seen.

Besides his looks, he also knew how to act like a gentleman. You two had had your rough moments in the beginning, of course. You had quickly discovered his powerful anger and defensive nature, but you couldn't fault him for it when he was simply protecting his brothers. Once you broke through that shell, though, a loving, softer nature was apparent, one that enamored you and knew how to romance the hell out of you.

Unfortunately, that's what was tripping you up now. Ever since you'd gotten closer to Lucifer, the demon seemed to have some personal agenda out to charm you as much as possible. It started simple, giving you more compliments on your hard work than you thought necessary, paying attention to small details in your outfits, or bringing you little treats from his meetings with Diavolo. As time went on, the gifts increased in both number and value, as well as more time spent together. He would bring you more expensive or rare gifts such as perfume and limited-time baked goods from the Devildom's most popular bakeries. He began to invite you to the music room for what became weekly sessions of Demonus and a musical record, late at night when it was just the two of you. It was a rare moment where his walls came down and he openly talked with you about anything and everything, reminiscing on occasion about things his brothers would do in the Celestial Realm or passing on something funny that Diavolo had said. He even invited you to sit with him as he did his paperwork, the gentle sounds of pen scratching on paper filling the air when you couldn't think of what to say. It didn't matter that you had nothing to talk about, he assured you, he just enjoyed your company.

You couldn't begin to guess what you'd done to deserve this treatment, or how you managed to get so close to this powerful demon. Although you appreciated every gesture, it also left you nervous. It was almost inevitable that you developed feelings for Lucifer. Somewhere along the line, your respect for him and feeling of friendship had developed into deeper feelings, ones that made your chest ache and your heart beat faster when you thought of him. But you'd dealt with rejection before, and even worse, you'd been misled before, made to think someone liked you back only at your expense. Despite how close you'd gotten to Lucifer, you still couldn't tell what he was thinking sometimes, or how he felt. Perhaps he was only being nice, every gesture in good friendship simply for earning his and his brothers' trust. It also didn't help that your last relationship had ended after a long term, leaving you essentially new to the dating scene and completely out of your element. How were you supposed to move forward when you felt like you just essentially ended a marriage?

The final part that truly puzzled you was the "dates'' he would take you on. He seemed to dance around the word, always using some kind of synonym with you, which was why you were hesitant to label them as such yourself. Sometimes the “dates” were to restaurants, other times they were to the local shopping district. And when he took you out, he was always polite and the utmost gentleman, never touching you more than a guiding hand on the shoulder or upper back, pulling out your chair or pouring your drink, and conversation kept light and pleasant. Then, at the end, he always made sure to walk you to your door, thank you for indulging him, then give a satisfied smile before leaving for his own room. It was almost frustrating, trying to understand his intentions, and the last thing you wanted was to put a reason where there wasn't one, or overthink things that weren't actually happening.

But tonight, Lucifer had truly pulled out all the stops. He invited you to see a ballet in the Human World, La Bayadère, which in itself should have been a sign to you. The story was one of vengeance, justice, tragedy, but also fate and eternal love. Your doubts got the better of you, preventing you from fully absorbing the clues left around you. Perhaps if you’d thought longer on his choice of show, his true intentions would have been obvious to you, especially combined with what followed next.

Your heart almost stopped when he insisted on gifting you a fancy dress to wear to the occasion. It didn’t matter how much you complained that it was too much or that you could buy the dress on your own, the first-born wouldn’t stand for it. And for the icing on the cake, when he came to your door to fetch you, he gifted a bracelet that complemented the style and color of your dress, along with a bouquet of three roses. Although the number of roses seemed a little odd, you were too enamored by your companion’s looks to think more on the subject.

Lucifer himself was dressed in a gorgeous tuxedo, the lapels decorated with his signature peacock feathers, their rich blue and turquoise coloring setting off the redness of his irises. Another rose matching yours was placed in his breast pocket, and he'd also styled his hair a little differently, swept back out of his face. It was strange seeing him out of the usual fur-lined cloak and waistcoat, but certainly not in a bad way. You felt nervous being so dressed up, especially with someone as handsome as the demon beside you was, but a sweet smile lit up Lucifer's face as he took you all in, helping to ease your feelings a little.

As you two made your way to the ballet, finding your seats and settling in, you couldn't keep your eyes off of him, something he certainly didn't miss. To be honest, you were worried you'd be too distracted by his looks to watch the ballet. But as the show began, you thankfully got lost in the tragic yet romantic story, Lucifer leaning in occasionally to clarify parts of the story when you seemed confused, or telling you facts about the dancers themselves.

By the end, your mind was swirling, thinking of everything you'd seen and heard, reliving the evening for as long as you could. The two of you had arrived at the doorstep of the House of Lamentation faster than you would have liked, the outside lit up by the moonlight in the late hour. Neither of you could make a move to open the door beyond unlocking it, knowing the moment you did, all peace would likely be broken by the rambunctious brothers. And honestly, you didn't want to leave Lucifer's side just yet, wanted to find some reason to stay close to him like you were now, enjoy his presence and his attention a little longer. But you simply couldn't find a good excuse, at least not one that didn't make you feel needy and childish.

Little did you know that the tall demon beside you felt the same, though, his mind preparing his next words oh so carefully. For Lucifer felt the same, deep in love and trying so hard to figure out the words to make you stay by his side, to grace him with your presence for just a second longer.

He felt ridiculous sometimes, having lived for millennia yet these feelings made him feel young and inexperienced. It was embarrassing enough to have been found out by his colleagues so easily, Barbatos guessing his feelings in mere seconds when Lucifer had brought up the idea of the ballet in order to request the portal, and of course Diavolo instantly catching wind of the situation from his trusted butler.

Although he thought he was doing a good job of concealing his emotions from most others, his excitement over the date had given him away, something he never thought would happen. And now here he was, feeling the date was successful but lost on where to go from here, or better yet, how to make things progress. He hadn't spent all this time courting you the best way he knew how, just to fumble at the last second like an amateur.

Finally, Lucifer steeled his nerves and his eyes caught yours as he turned to look at you, admiring the way the moonlight lit up your features. There was a nervousness in your eyes that wasn’t there before, and it relieved him a little to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their nerves.

“Thank you for coming with me to the show, MC,” Lucifer said, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Of course! Thank you for inviting me, it was amazing,” you gushed, a combination of nerves and excitement over the show causing you to speak faster than usual. “The story was so beautiful and sad, and I loved the music. I’m so glad we got to go.” It was impossible to keep the grin off your face, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much during the evening.

Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle over your excitement.

“Good, I’m glad it was to your liking. That helps me decide on where some of our next outings should be. It certainly made for a very good end to this night.”

His implication made your cheeks warm. He wanted to go on more “outings” with you? Oh god. Was this a date? Did he see it as a date? Or were you overthinking things like usual, seeing something that wasn’t there? He probably just saw it as a fun time with a good friend, simply an enjoyable evening with someone whose companionship he tolerated, rather than some romantic venture. Of course he wouldn’t want to date someone like you, right?

As you had your silent breakdown, Lucifer pursed his lips for a moment before opening his mouth, taking one of your hands into his as a soft blush filled his cheeks.

“May I kiss you?”

You’d barely registered his touch on your hand before you realized Lucifer was speaking to you, the tall demon already leaning in a bit in preparation. A kiss? Of course you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to do that this whole time, if you were being honest. But as his query finally registered fully in your mind, registered what exactly that would mean, something snapped in your brain and you were reacting before you knew it.

As Lucifer’s face drew closer, a gasp tore out of you, all your nerves suddenly firing at once.

"NO!!!"

The sound echoed in the air– it came from you, you realized belatedly– as you snatched your hand back from his.

The force of your outburst caused you both to freeze, and your hand automatically came up to cover your mouth as you simply looked at each other in stunned silence. That certainly wasn't what you'd intended, but the damage was done. Lucifer looked shaken, obviously taken by surprise by such a forceful rejection. As he started to open his mouth, you couldn’t help yourself, the urge to flee the scene taking over all your senses.

“I— I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, before yanking the front door open and running inside.

“No, wait, I— MC! MC!!” he yelled after you, starting to follow you into the foyer. But you continued into the house and up the steps, not even turning back to look at him as you moved out of sight, leaving Lucifer to simply watch you vanish.

Lucifer couldn’t help but lean back against the wall by the front door, looking in the direction you’d run, and a sharp ache filled his chest as he absorbed what had just happened.

Your loud “no” was ringing in his ears, shaking him to his core. To be honest, despite being known for his pride, he knew rejection was always a possibility. Many things were predictable in his life; he could often predict the actions of his brothers: when Mammon would pull another money-scheming stunt, or when Satan would try to pull some kind of curse-prank on him, or even Leviathan’s freak outs over his video games and idol events. Hell, he could often predict the actions of Diavolo, as unpredictable as the Young Lord could be sometimes. But humans seemed to be a different sport all together, as you always left him guessing. Still, it surprised him just how much your rejection hurt.

It was also just the adamancy of your rejection. He could expect to be turned down, but to that degree? He knew he’d made a mistake, that it probably seemed like he’d expected a kiss from you, and he was fully prepared to formally apologize to you later for it. But for you to yell like that, when you never even raised your voice to his brothers before… had he been misreading the situation the whole time?

He forced himself to get up and make his way to his room, eager to get out of his suit and make some tea to calm his nerves. But he couldn’t help but linger on the thought that it boiled down to: you didn't love him back. Why else would you have shut him down so clearly? He had thought he'd been making progress in courting you, had thought you'd even been receptive to it. He'd never felt more like an idiot.

A week passed, and Lucifer still didn't get the opportunity to apologize to you or confront you. You kept communication to the bare minimum, short sentences or one-word answers where possible. If you two ended up alone together, you ran off as soon as you could. You'd even missed your weekly session of music and drinks, and it was telling when Lucifer didn't text you to check on you. You could tell your avoidance of him was hurting him, a resigned sadness lingering in his eyes anytime you saw him. You knew it was childish to keep avoiding the issue, but what were you supposed to do?

The others could tell something was up. It was obvious in the way they suddenly ceased most of their troublesome behavior, cautious in the way they approached either of you and otherwise left you to your own devices. Even Diavolo and Barbatos suspected something, sending separate messages inquiring if Lucifer was okay and if something happened, and you didn't know how to respond except requesting to give some time to explain later.

While Lucifer believed you declined the kiss on account of rejecting his advances— not that you knew this— the truth was that you were nervous. Nervous about exposing your feelings and becoming vulnerable, and nervous about realizing Lucifer may actually share your feelings, or at the very least sought something more than just a casual friendship. The realization completely hit you without warning when he'd asked to kiss you, and you'd reacted poorly because of it, unprepared to face your fears.

You needed to come clean to him, apologize for your outburst and be honest about why you'd run away. But the anxiety and the "what-ifs" filled your mind and overtook your reasoning. It haunted you to think that he may still reject you in the end, treat you like a toy or a joke like people have done in the past. Or what if this ruined your friendship? You'd spent so long earning his trust and gaining this level of friendship, so what if it was lost forever?

You couldn't help but sigh as you realized avoiding him now was ruining your friendship already.

It was too much to think of currently, and as you got ready for bed, you decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water, something cool and refreshing to distract you for a moment. You turned the corner to go into the room but stopped in your tracks as you saw none other than Lucifer already standing at the counter, tending to a steaming tea cup. Your heart hurt just looking at him, and you immediately turned, hoping to get away before he saw you. But Lucifer's sensitive hearing picked up on your steps, and he instantly looked over in your direction.

He called your name, and your body stopped on its own, as if on command, to the sweet call of his voice. Your fight or flight response was itching to activate, and you did your best to ignore it. It was now or never, you couldn't keep running away. But damn if it wasn't so nerve-wracking to think about.

Steeling yourself, you slowly looked back at Lucifer. It was evident on his face that he was relieved you decided not to run away, at least not yet.

"MC, I apologize–" "I'm so sorry!!"

You both stopped, not expecting an apology from the other. Before Lucifer could continue, the words just burst out of you in a rush,

"I'm so sorry for the other night, I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I just wasn't expecting a kiss and it caught me off guard, but that's not your fault and I'm so sorry for yelling at you," you said, struggling to breathe at the end.

Lucifer shook his head, placing a rare uncovered hand to his chest in an act of sincerity.

"You have nothing to apologize for, MC," he said. "It is entirely my fault. It was my understanding Human World dates often ended with a kiss, but I shouldn't have assumed anything and checked with you first that you wanted as such. Instead, I made you uncomfortable with my assumption, and for that, I deeply apologize and hope you can forgive me." He bowed forward, the very image of chivalry.

“Oh, no, that wasn’t–” Date. Of course he would choose to use that word now. It echoed around in your brain for a moment before you could formulate a sentence, desperately trying to piece together the puzzle between you two and make sense of things. "Wait, ‘date’? Was this a date?"

Lucifer looked up from his bow, his brows furrowing together in mutual confusion.

"Uh, yes," he said slowly. "At least, that was my intention."

All you could do was blink owlishly at him.

"What— But. You never called it a date before."

Lucifer thought back on the times he'd invited you out and realized that may have been true. Perhaps he'd been self-consciously avoiding the term, to lower the chance of outright rejection? He never was the best at being direct when it came to you, and now it was all backfiring on him. Despite his age and his experiences, he still found himself acting like some young teenager around you.

"For that, I apologize again. I should have been more transparent about my intentions, then," he said, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up on him that he tried to suppress. One thing still didn't make sense to him, and he wanted to address it while his wits were about him. "I do have to ask, have you not seen.. any of our outings as dates? Including the ballet?"

"Well… no, you never seemed to use that word and I thought maybe you were just being nice." Heat was filling the entirety of your face, your voice shrinking in on itself as you responded. Your feet had never felt so restless before, eager to run you straight out of the room.

Lucifer couldn't help it as his eyebrows quirked up. "Even when I brought you the bracelet and the roses?"

"N-no."

You never wanted to crawl into a hole more than you did now, especially as you heard a deep sigh across from you. You couldn’t even look at him.

"This will be the last of it that I bring up, and then I won't bother you anymore, but… was there a reason you didn't see them as dates? Were they not to your liking? Or perhaps… it’s me you don’t like?”

Your head was shaking before you knew it, vehement denial on your face, and your gaze snapped back to his.

“No, that’s not— I was just nervous!” you exclaimed. “The dates were fine, honestly! I actually really liked them!”

“So then why–”

“Because you’re hot, okay?!” you blurted out, the words now rushing out of you like a dam burst open. “I haven’t been asked on a date in years, so I got nervous, and I’ve been pranked before, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up and get hurt again or make things weird with you–” You realized too late you were rambling, your mouth snapping shut as you realized in horror what exactly you were saying, but there it was. All you could do now was wait on a response.

Lucifer couldn’t help it, a burst of pride erupted in his chest that you thought he was hot, and he had to stop himself from smiling like an idiot. More importantly, he caught the other part of your ramble. His protective side rose up immediately, angry at the thought that others deliberately tricked you with something so shallow, hurting you to the point that you had to doubt yourself and others on their true feelings. No one deserved such treatment, and he couldn’t help how defensive he got when it came to you.

He tentatively took a step forward and, not seeing you prepared to run, slowly drew closer to you.

“I’m sorry that people have been so awful to you in the past,” he said. “The people that did that were undeserving of your attention and your affections, I hope you know that. It was cruel what they did to you, and you never deserved that.”

You could feel your eyes start to burn, vision blurring slightly, but you fought the urge to cry in order to listen to him. The rational part of your brain knew he was right, knew that you hadn’t done anything to warrant being used and mocked like that. But your anxiety still ate at you, used those experiences to sour your expectations.

He took your hand, and when you didn’t take it back, his heart thrilled a little. What he was planning was a gamble, but he hoped it would be worth it as he took a deep breath and continued speaking. “Words cannot describe the influence you’ve had on my life since I’ve met you. You’ve had an incredible impact on my brothers and myself, helping us reconnect in a way that I feared was lost long ago. You've been reckless and fearless in your decisions, to the point that I’ve worried about your sanity.” His lips curved up when you pouted at him. “But that same recklessness and fearlessness may be what saved my family, and saved me. I don't think I will ever meet another human that affects me the way you do."

He gave you a moment to absorb his words, watching the gears turning in your head.

"I can understand now why you've had reason to doubt me," Lucifer continued. "But I promise to you that everything I have done, and everything I feel, is sincere. I will do whatever it takes to assure you of that."

"I-I believe you," you replied meekly. Your hand felt warm in his, but the presence was comforting. Maybe, just maybe, you could afford yourself this vulnerability. Lucifer's thumb began to rub across your knuckles, slowly at first, like he wasn't sure, but continued as you watched.

Lucifer couldn't help but smile, seeing you come around. He wasn't sure what he would have done if you'd run from him again, if his pride could have taken that, but now that he had you, he needed to seal the deal in the hopes that you'd stay for good. As he rubbed soft circles in your skin, he began the final move to secure you, just a few steps to take, really, but massive in scale, his racing heartbeat waiting to expose just how nervous he was.

The first step.

"Do you remember the number of roses I had brought you the other night?" he asked.

The question caught you off guard, the number of roses? You thought for a moment.

“Um. You brought me three of them, I think?” Lucifer smiled immediately, pleased about that. “Why?”

The second step.

Lucifer drew your hand up to his lips, pressing a single soft kiss to your fingers now. The action caused heat to spread in your chest, and you struggled to avoid staring at his lips as you anticipated another kiss, already distracted from the question you had asked.

“Do you know what three roses means, in the language of flowers?” he asked.

You couldn’t muster any words, simply shaking your head in response.

This time, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your hand, raising goosebumps on your arm. Lucifer��s eyes met yours, and the warmth and love in them took your breath away.

The third step.

“It means, ‘I love you’.”

“...Oh.”

The sound left your mouth before you could stop it, wobblier than you’d like. Those three powerful words sent goosebumps all throughout your body, your eyes widening and your mind going blank. Your brain was too busy short-circuiting to respond appropriately, your words temporarily lost to you. But Lucifer was okay with waiting for you to recover; he’d always wait for you.

His next kiss fell over your wrist before he leaned up, leveling himself with you. One of his hands holding yours intertwined with your fingers, and his other hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin gently.

The final step.

"May I ask if you return my feelings?"

You couldn't catch your breath, simply nodding your answer before realizing the poor demon was owed a better response than that.

“I do. I love you, too,” you replied, a grin working its way onto your face.

You wish your voice wasn’t so weak as you said it, but it made Lucifer smile regardless, a relieved sigh escaping him as his eyes briefly shut. The demon wasn’t even aware of the tension in his body up until that moment, and his shoulders relaxed, feeling like a weight had left him. He opened his eyes again to look at you once more.

“Now that we are, perhaps, on the same page, would it be alright if I kissed you?”

This time, a nod was suitable. Lucifer leaned forward, but hesitated just a moment before his lips could touch yours. Although your earlier rejection had been cleared up, hell you’d even accepted and returned his feelings, Lucifer’s wounded pride was still healing and making him second guess things. And you knew this, knew this mix-up was mostly your fault. And if you didn’t get to kiss Lucifer now, you’d always regret it.

You closed the gap before your anxiety could tell you to do otherwise and pressed your lips to his. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you stayed strong and were quickly rewarded as Lucifer relaxed against you and leaned into the kiss. After a moment, you prepared to pull away, but clearly your new lover's hesitation was gone as he pulled you back in, deepening the kiss and setting a fire in your belly. If you could have melted in his arms, you would have.

When Lucifer was finally finished with you– only because you really needed to breathe– your legs felt like jello, making you hold onto his body for support, and you couldn't help the giggle that came out. A product of your nerves, you supposed. But your sweet demon didn't mind, supporting you in his arms for as long as you needed. If the soft blush on his cheeks was any indication, he was much in the same position as you, anyway.

One of your hands was still in his, Lucifer’s fingers rubbing over your knuckles again softly. It was almost like he was memorizing the feel of your skin on his, as if he was afraid it would leave, before he stopped and looked at you. Never in a hundred years did you think you'd be here, in the arms of a demon and so deeply in love. Funny how life works.

“So, you think I’m hot, do you?”

Lucifer's question broke the comfortable silence, the demon watching you with a smirk on his face like the cat that got the cream. You clicked your teeth at him, pouting. Of course he’d pick up on that part of your panicked explanation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said that,” you said, your face burning in embarrassment. Warm fingers gently took your jaw, tilting your head up to face Lucifer.

"Don’t be like that. I'm always happy to hear your honest opinion, my darling," he said, the pet name not helping your racing heart, and especially not the quick kiss he pressed to your lips as he held you there.

“I’m going back to bed if you’re just going to tease me,” you joked, starting to pull away. Truthfully, you were also a little unprepared for just how much sweeter Lucifer was being, the way he looked at you and casually slipping in a pet name being a fatal combination on your mental health. Bedtime seemed a good enough excuse to give your heart a little time to recuperate. But before you could make much progress, strong arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, keeping you captive once more, and it was impossible to suppress the shiver in your body as warm breath touched the edge of your ear.

“Oh, love, you’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m letting you go anytime soon.”

You’re not sure your heart could take much more.

As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💜

#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fem reader #obey me fanfic #the minx can write ✍️#cant believe this became 5000 words wth

192 notes · View notes

briecheese-3 · 6 months

Text

9-5;5-9

(ariana grande reference)

a/n:

this is not prechecked, horrible writing and spelling, i had a dream abt my crush and had to repkace him with peter parker so i was rushing to not forget it!! please let me know how i did 💋 thanks loves!!

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, riding, lemme know if i missed anything!!!!

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even a part time job sucks. you would think it would be easier, hence the part time and minimum wage thing, but no. another hour and you wouldve been dead from exhaustion. somehow, though, your boyfriend peter parker was able to keep his energy up all day long. not only that, but your cute, sweet, nerdy boyfriend kept his dick up almost all day long too. he couldnt pass you behind the counter without the whisper of a touch following him, sending shivers down your spine. you couldnt find a moment of silence that wasnt interrupted by a whisper of his thoughts. it was torture for both of you. finally though the clock hits 4. you and peter get off at the same time so he can take you home. your dorm wasnt far from the shop.

peter is like a demon the way he finds parking spots. theyre always secluded, shaded, and free. this time its a little parking garage about a minute walk to your building. his hand on your thighs the entire ride slid a little closer to where you needed him most the closer you got to your destination. the closer his hand slipped, the more you started to loose your resolve. when peter finally parked you felt his hand hovering over me, the spot that you needed him to touch before you lost your mind. he looked at you, his pupils blown, desire clenched into his face. “can i please touch you?” he was practically begging.

you needed this man as soon as possible. you spread your legs and push your hips up into his hand. he smiled at the action but moved his hand, “i need to hear you say it.” you sighed in frustration, he was taking far too long. “please touch me peter.” his eyes darkened with the whine in your voice and he smirked before slipping his hand underneath the thin fabric of your skirt, then finding purchase on the waistband of your panties, before ripping them off you without a thought. “is this all for me baby?” he asked while slipping his fingers between your folds and feeling what he did to you. “its all you petey” you moaned out, his first finger entering you easily. he pumped his finger in and out a few times before adding another, making you moan out. one of your hands gripped his wrist, nothing letting him pull away, and the other was wrapped around his biceps, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his smooth skin. soon enough, hes curling his fingers into and your stomach is knotting up, ready to come undone at any second. immediately he feels you clenching around him and places his thumb on your clit, adding so much stimulation you come apart in his arms, a moaning mess. once you come down a little bit, you notice his arms now around you, wondering when they got there. the second thing you noticed, which made your mouth water, was his dick, hard and strained against his pants. just looking at the tent it made, you licked your lips. peter watched you with lust filled eyes. he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap, leaning his chair back and down. you make a mental note to thank whoever made high ceiling cars. once your were comfortably situated, you unbuttoned his pants for him and pulled them down just enough to free his cock, which falls onto his stomach, already dripping with pre. your not sure, but pretty sure you drooled. his arms were sitting behind his head and he was staring at you. your eyes never left his as you reached down and palmed him, stroking him a few times before pushing yourself up and lining him up to your hole. he moaned feeling you against him, and lost his control. he bucked up into you and grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise them. you knew there was gonna be marks later. peter is pounding into you while you moaned on top of him. you grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off his chest as fast as you could, and continued to dig your nails into his chest. you bit and licked the soft spots on his neck, his chest, his shoulders, and especially his collarbone. he groaned into your neck. “such a good little slut arent you? taking my cock like a good girl. your markin me up for every other girl to see arent you baby?” you moaned into his chest, his words leaking right down to your croch. you felt yourself winding up again, clenching around him harder and making him moan out in such a pretty way. you kissed his lips with enough power to clash teeth. it was messy and hot and pure. youare so in love with this man.

he doesnt stop though. too caught up in his pleasure, he abuses your whole past what you can take and suddenly you feel another orgasm coming on. your too fucked out too even speak. you whimper into his chest and whisper unintelligible ~peters~ “cmon baby just one more be my good girl and cum one more time for me yeah?” thats all you need to hear sent over the edge. you feel him thrust into you one last time before releasing his thick, hot load into you. he lets you come down on his chest and finally pulls out, both of you groaning at the loss of warmth. he helps you get back into the passenger seat and puts your panties on you. he gets out and walks to your side of the car. he opens the door, grabs your bag, and surprises you by picking you up full bridal carry. honestly thiugh, your much too tired to protest. you almost fall asleep in his arms on the way back. he lets you sleep. he knows how drained you are from work and school and family. he opens your door, takes your shoes off, your socks, your clothes. he helps you into the shower and cleans you. he dries you off and helps you put on your pajamas. he even carries you to bed and lays down with you. you drift off in his arms. comfortable, content, safe. just before you drift off, you swear you hear peter whisper, “i love you y/n” you drift off just to dream about him.

#peter parker #my fic #oneshots #smut #smut fic #smutty #peter parker smut #andrew garfield smut #andrew spiderman #spiderman smut #spiderman #i cant spell #SoundCloud

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trtlebuns · 10 months

Text

OH YOU BETTER WORK!!

Synopsis: You “accidentally” send your clothes to your boyfriends address and demand a fashion show

Inspired by this video: 💋

Tags: Fluff, wholesome, comedy, and Soap

Johnny (Soap) MacTavish

“babe” you hear Johnny say through the FaceTime call

“Hm?” You replied not looking at the phone while you paint your nails

“What is it” you ask again now looking at your phone since you didn’t hear Johnny reply

“I think you sent something to my address” Johnny said while showing the package in the camera

“Ooohh!!! I was wondering where that went, I thought they forgot to send it and was going to request a refund” You said while looking at the logo on the package

“Do you want me to drive over and give it to you?” Johnny put the package down and looked around for his keys

An idea popped into your head

“no no no” you frantically say as he pauses and waits for you to continue your sentence

“Try them on for me” you say

There was a pregnant pause

“I think those polish fumes are getting to your head darling” Johnny chuckled

“I’m deadass” you said as you put on your most serious face as you stare into the camera as Johnny stares back at you

“Babe I-“ Johnny was about to start before cut off by a

“AHHHH PLEASE PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!! YOU WONT HAVE TO BUY ME LUNCH FOR THE WHOLE WEEK PLEASE I PROMISE I PROMISE JUST THIS ONE THING UGHHH” you screamed into the phone

Johnny knew you were lying about the lunch because he knows how you get when you’re hungry

Johnny rolled his eyes and told you to hush and you did

“Fine WOMAN! I will put the clothes on mkay” he said with a tight lip

You smiled “prop the camera up so I can get a full body image, it’ll help me image it on myself”

Johnny does what you ask and opens up the package

“Dear God woman, where and why did you even buy these clothes??” Johnny said confused and scared as he picked up a few articles of clothing

“I was just browsing and seeing what I might like to see myself in. Now enough questions, get on with the get down okay?” You said as you put yourself in cross cross apple sauce position and watched Johnny changed

As Johnny was about to lift his shirt he caught a glimpse of you looking like a mad woman in the camera

Eyes wide , staring deep into the camera, and breathing deeply

“Back up, damn. Creeping me the fuck out” Johnny said while letting go of his shirt and about to cover his camera

“ ILL CLOSE MY EYES” you said as you saw his hand

Johnny rolled his eyes

“You better” he said and went back to changing

“No promises tho…” you shut your eyes peeking a bit

“Huh???” Johnny said

“They’re closed” you said irritatedly, but nevertheless closed your eyes fully

In the midst of you eyes being closed and rocking your self side to side

You hear a bunch of “my gods” “would this even fit?” “my body would swallow this” “trashy” “ooo a wig” “why is my nipple on display?” “THONG?!”

“Hurry up” you said impatiently as you hear him grumble his complaints

“I’m almost done, hush! You can’t rush art” you hear him smack his lips

“Okay andddddddd done” you hear Johnny say out of breath

You open your eyes

“Good God” You say aloud and cover your mouth to stop the giggles from erupting from your body

“Speechless? I know babe” Johnny said as he bit his lips and rubbed his hands together

Visual: Johnny is wearing a pink crop top with some short shorts , with a white fur coat and a purple bob wig to match

As tears begin to fall down your eyes and the laughter managed to escape your mouth

Johnny gave you a full blown show

I’m talking twirling, strutting towards the camera, twerking a little bit

You even put on beez in the trap by Nicki Minaj to give him the all experience bad bitch vibe

“BITCHES AINT SHIT AND THEY AINT SAYING NOTHIN!!” You yelled out while you got up and starting dancing

“YOU BETTER EAT JOHNNY!! YOU BETTER WORK!!!” You yelled in the camera as Johnny started dancing along with the lyrics

As the music came to an end, you hear the door open from the Johnnys side of the phone

Immediately Johnny is frozen in his spot

“Could you pleas-“ you hear a familiar voice and automatically align it with Simon (Johnnys roommate)

There was a pause in his sentence, as he continues

“Playing a little bit of dress up?”

“Yeah…” Johnny replied

“good, good, It’s good to pretend” you hear Simon say

You cough awkwardly

“You look beautiful” Simon chuckles out

“Oh fuck off and get out” Johnny yelled out and went to close his door and lock it

“Please keep it down Princess” you heard Simon yell behind the door

You’re having a giggling fit as Johnny picked up his phone and looked at you

“Never again” Johnny says

“Okay okay, I promise” you replied with a smile

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sugar-petals · 2 years

Text

sub!stray kids | 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 (18+)

⇢ sub training (v.) :: the learning of sexual techniques between the dominant and their submissive

pairing. ot8 x femdom!reader

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, hard kinks, restraints, first times, reverse size kink, vocal subs (duh, it’s skz), puppy/kitten play, marking, dumbification, poly fantasies, toys, fetish wear, brat taming, oral (f receiving), pegging, mommy kink, groping, orgasm control, subdrop, burnout mention, masturbation, cbt, dacryphilia, striptease, aftercare

wc. around 1k each member. we’re keepin’ it long like hyunjin’s legs

↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] sub skz beloved. 💦 this group is truly populated by harness models, catboys, cuddle bugs and pretty visuals only. get ready for a #fifty shades of stray party up in here 😂 every member got their own flavor so each imagine/hc is going to be a slightly different genre soo— enjoy!

read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋

♡ FELIX 필릭스

the real question is. what on earth is there left to train? felix is the consummate example of a good freckled boy from down under. #theoriginalbabychick. the template for all angelic subs in town. the archetype. the blueprint. the role model. the symbol. the epitome.

perfection is spelled y.o.n.g.b.o.k. and we all know it. why’s he so popular? because he sets off the sub radar of all touch-deprived tops around, yours included.

like.... he wears his metaphorical cat ears even when he’s not physically putting them on. he’s soft and sweet and pliant and follows your lead (…cuz he’s lowkey excited at the prospect of a choking, he’s got a much naughtier side to him ya know). he wears thigh-high stockings just for fun because it’s cute.

and this ain’t all about him, of course. felix takes one glance to know what you want. and that is being his mommy, and getting a big loving hug from your baby boy — don’t deny it.

i mean. who can’t imagine this cheeky flirt chirping ok, yes mommy in his girl’s direction. it’s far too easy to picture. he has all kinds of these lil’ responses up his sleeve just to endear you. who’d ever want to let go of felix anyway.

in return, you buy him popsicles, gelato, soft serves and sorbets so he can look cute and sexy and just… put the licks i mean lix in felix. just a joy to watch, felix going down on an ice cream. the ultimate turn-on technique. who wants to live vicariously through a cotton candy flavor scoop? i volunteer.

if that doesn’t get you wet, i don’t know what will. before he’ll get problems eating too much sugar though, he’s frequently gonna eat the real treat which is? you. get ready for felix treating your clit like a hot fudge sundae in the middle of august.

felix can be sensual and sensitive alike. he falls apart under your touch and punishments as beautifully as he collects himself again during aftercare. which, needless to say, is his favorite thing. he’s very needy for it, but hell. who doesn’t want to cuddle all night long with lee fucking felix. as the sacred text says: and when the world was seven days old, god formed lee felix from clay to create the immaculate little spoon.

actually resilient. he’s the `okay, let’s do it!´ type. all while expressing a lot of love to you, and being close to you emotionally and physically. that balance is hard to pull off and felix might be the member who’s the expected best at it.

so, it’s not all bdsm, though. plenty of leisure and healing time there, your relationship is rather built on being a two-person snuggle pile than you pulling his hair all night. every other night is fine. duh, only the absolute lifestyle players can maintain a 24-7 d/s relationship.

when he throws his head back and moans — how satisfying is that voice. honestly. felix is not the ultimate painslut, but some nipple clamps or firm ass pinches do have him panting and winding in agony.

how he sounds like, it’s quite significant in your decision to commit. once you’ve heard his most desperate horny cries, you’ll never want to hear anyone else's voice in your bedroom again. you don’t know why.

maybe because sunshine is the real-life manifestation of a hardcore hentai femboy sub. the groans, the favorite accessories, the kinks, the squeals, the begging, the faces. you know, the kind of guy that ends up perched between his domme’s breasts (…or thighs) and blushes excessively from shyness.

he asks you to start controlling the way he dresses and speaks sometimes as part of play. he likes your single-minded character.

he knows you mean business when calling him lee yongbok. it either means you’re about to eat his ass whole or rock your hips all over his gorgeous face. either is heaven for felix who has a thing for skilled tongues, and being skilled with it himself. the absolute tease.

such a fit and flexible guy. felix makes it easy to adjust things for you. he can squeeze it good for some decently tight and painful anal session, or the complete opposite. having the strap just slip in and out of him like he’s a bottomless pit. felix is the first in line for a proper head down, ass up pounding late at night. until he’s dizzy, but then again, he begs you to enter him again and again. the amount of lube he’s using up is just astounding and expensive.

when lix wants to prank you a bit, he lists you cringey australian slang for kinky things, which you will rebuff pretty much immediately because who names these things like that. australian nsfw words need to be kept closed away from society. the rest of his nicknames and trend words is cute. but 18+ aussie vernacular is banned at your house. the prank is definitely successful, so you tickle his feet to get back at him.

whenever lix is acting unlike himself, you know he’s hiding a dirty thought. it takes several months of trust work until he admits the following, but it doesn’t really surprise you what’s on his mind. since felix has a bit of an overpower-me fixation and a serious size kink, he fantasizes about several fangirls meeting with him in his room and having their way with him. like literally being all over his body and destroying this sweet little boy for fun’s sake.

and… he’s imagining like seriously well-endowed baddies who have a lot that they can put on him. he literally wants several girls to just grind him into the mattress until he turns to dust. you’re like, hey maybe we can ask some girls from tiktok or instagram. felix is shocked that you’d go along with it, he thought you’d disown his subby ass. you say hey, you count yourself among the felix fangirl and fanboy nation, so!

now it depends. is he too introverted or disconnected from his fantasy to agree on really living it, so it would winds up being a roleplay between the two of you? or is he daring enough, then. you say, when he’s ready, he’s ready. those things have to be planned carefully, with the right people.

chances are, he will say yes and buy the condoms. he wants to get fucked absolutely dumb. you agree he can get his dick wet while getting passed around like the salt at dinner, and these girls can rub themselves all over felix at your permission. damn, he’s gonna be sore the next day. all those heels digging into him, so much heat, so much pressure and facefucking. felix is totally a masochist undercover, and you’re starting to realize it’s very trainable: congrats and g’day mate.

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♡ HYUNJIN 현진

riddle me this. why does mister `hotter than your ex better than your next´ never leave his room? …because you’re busy running ice cubes over his stomach to say the least. or swapping them from your mouth into his. don’t act like you wouldn’t do the nastiest things to him.

like what do people think this sex pot is doing? he can’t paint 24/7. hyunjin is a guy of passion and he’s the body. not to mention in love with the pervert that is you. so he’s in there preoccupied with sex stuff obviously.

after he finally admitted how desperate his crush on you was, and it’s not like he could ever hide those things, there was no stopping him, and no stopping you with the body oil to grease him up. the rest is history.

you can bet he’ll be your personal strip tease dancer once he’s all oiled up. nothing will ace hyunjin enjoy more. not to mention your own blessed eyes. water is wet, i know.

so what’s it like domming the most beautiful, handsome, fascinating, and chic man in the world? nothing short of an extraterrestrially good experience. because subby hyunjin truly is out of this world kind of sexy with the right dose of being a maniac, reference fully intended. yeah, he’s a lil’ crazy. so what. makes things even more intense. hyunjin is obsessed with exploring his sexuality to the very fullest, what’s not to like. he’s very comfortable being erotic. and smitten. and masochistic.

no matter what he does, no matter how klutzy he becomes, he does not fail to impress his top. even in his messiness, he is gorgeous… okay — i’ll stop waxing poetic. but yup he’s hot. a pretty romantic elven prince in some super sultry lingerie. a god of lace and fishnets.

let’s be honest. hyunjin just wants to be grabbed and squeezed from all directions. that’s why he’s bothering the whole of skz all day and keeps talking chan into writing such physical songs for him. cuz he wants something to come back.

has his experience with chain bondage, doesn’t he. hyunjin goes down the rope bunny rabbit hole faster than anyone. if he’s not down there already, waiting for a proper rigger dominant. he has the perfect body to do rope. small waist, long legs, sturdy arms, and wrists. he’s tall, that’s lots of space available. don’t think a rope bunny has to be small and lithe.

hyunjin is a huge fan of taemin’s work. that tells you what? basically everything. everybody knows taemin is the king of bondage, resourcefulness, and hard subbing. and, like in hyunjin’s case, taemin got the biggest ever oral fixation and touch deprivation going for him. these two are about the same in terms of er... severity. hyunjin would not survive without getting kisses. before work, coming home, after dinner, for the night.

because he whines pretty easily, it’s not hard to find out where his limits are and what things to try with hyunjin or not. `complaints´ don’t make a bad sub, in fact, they make a good one. feedback, you know. better a lot of it than none at all. it’s good if a sub uses the safewording system.

on his fours, hyunjin looks so sexy splayed out on his underarms and knees exactly because he is so damn tall. and yes, stark naked, even half-suspended, with some electric toys in his ass as the cherry on top. you might stay clothed during the whole thing, it’s about him as the artistic centerpiece. while he’s going through it, you point your phone cam at him to immortalize the staging.

loves his brain disintegrating from extreme pleasure and pain. which he will cry out like he’s on a rollercoaster indeed. the deeper the moans, the more profound you know it will be. watch his experiences turn into paintings in real-time the next day. hyunjin gets major inspiration spikes from sub training.

even though he might seem super stubborn, hyunjin’s talent of self-improvement should never ever be underestimated. never. if you point something out, he only needs to be told once. a man who’s glowed up this stunningly is always to be reckoned with.

hides his crazy toys, but not for long. he’s so embarrassed asking if you could be the one to apply them on him, but he does ask. which speaks of him really confiding in you. he would not leave those things to a perfect stranger. hyunjin is very unlikely to request sub training from a hookup anyways. he needs a domme he can absolutely lose him mind about day and night. he thinks about you every time he cums, there’s no other fantasy in his head. he definitely wants to be your husband in the future. he wants a wife who is possessive and take-charge, and picks out the skirts for him to wear.

you talked about this together. he loves being denied blowjobs to torture him for real. the fantasy in his mind will drive him insane like... he will cower in his bed at night with thoughts racing and turning. any orgasm denial is right up hyunjin’s alley. vice versa, he is eager to please you with his amazing hands.

shakes it all off pretty quickly during aftercare. hyunjin is not the sub drop kind of submissive at all, it’s gonna surprise you. most of the aftermath quickly turns into him eating you out instead. that’s his favorite way of coming down. lazy as they come (not indifferent or anything, but you know what i mean), without a drama in the world. he can’t be “disgusting, do it again!!” all day.

already vowed to spend the majority of his waking life and sexually active years on this planet with you sitting on his face. he doesn’t lie, and it’s too otherworldly gorgeous to go to waste, look at those lips, so.

his head is easy to control and teach because his hair’s so long. just saying. he loves it grabbed and secured. what else. he’s a pisces. pisces love to be pulled by their lovely flowing locks. hyunjin’s prettiness has no limits. nor does his sloppy mouth.

even for the pickiest dom in the world, oral training slave hyunjin will do it for them. he’s that good. strap sucking? very much included. porn stars step aside and leave it to the stray kids pet boys: hyunjin is the absolute throat goat. he can muscle through the biggest calibers with his eyes closed. and you know there are lots of options with that silicone in terms of shapes and sizes. hyunjin is gonna show up in the studio with one raspy voice and very puffy lips. this might be your favorite thing to do with him. he has the best gagging noises EVER.

you really delight in having him dress all dolled up, gauze faux leather bowties pearls everything, training him to let go and just enjoy it no thoughts head empty — but there really aren’t that many steps left until complete bimbofication like. come on. it’s hyunjin. he’s already there, he’s got the lip gloss supply, he’s serving it. which brings me to my next point.

a mutual marking. you, with love bites. him, with said lipstick. this is gonna be a mess, but there’s nobody better suited to be covered in hickeys than hyunjin. not to mention just how much of a turn-on it will be to lick and nibble on him everywhere, aggressively or softly, or both.

dare i say his face is smackable. hyunjin is a sucker for heavy slaps. but it takes a lot more to finish a horny slut of that degree. hyunjin needs to be told to jerk himself off furiously with a vibrating fleshlight until he’s overstimulated, screaming, crying — and then kissed until he’s tired and dizzy and clinging from so much love.

very well, i told you. he’s fascinating.

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♡ CHAN 찬

let’s face it. daddy bang needs a break from all that business, and all the feral barking directed at him. cozy chris has some major needs, too — and, as you found out early on into your relationship — they are all of a gentle nature.

he can’t foster seven mischievous kids, produce all night, look that buff, talk his ass off on lives and during interviews, be a fitness/sports king, the wisest person on earth, make beats nonstop, and then also play the big bad wolf in the bedroom with you as well. that just doesn’t work.

this mf would probably burn out at some point.

hyung life is just so damn hard. and take it from me, dom life kinda is, too. it’s about coordination alike. someone dominant has a huge portion of responsibility when it comes to knowledge, to handling props, protocol, safe sane consensual, and tying everything back into the rest of the relationship. we gotta look after ourselves but also keep our minds clear about the when and how and why. chan does that with stray kids as a leading figure, he knows how it works with several people. bangchan is charming incarnate, and he can demand something.

the question is, would chris go the extra miles of extra miles of all extra miles to be the absolute boss of his girlfriend for reasons of kink? sure, he’d do anything for her. no question. he is prone to sacrifice. but in practice: the ole man would break his own back yanking a whip at someone. what he could use is some hugs instead. like proactive ones, where he doesn’t have to chase. that gives him such a fuzzy feeling inside. when someone goes out of their way to put in the work. he already shoulders a lot professionally, so a responsible dom in his private life makes for a surprisingly perfect match. he’s a libra... any circumstance needs to be tipped into a needed equilibrium. chan at home has to be the glaring opposite of chan at work for things to feel even to him.

even more real talk. how would he even sound intimidating with that much aussie dripping from his pronunciation. oi, how we feelin’ with yer buttplug, buddy?

...give me a break. and him. especially him. he needs it.

the guy would be out there... apologizing for every little thing. dominant chan is just not on god’s menu for humankind y’all. he’s already overworked all day and night, where would he even draw the energy from to properly spank anybody. the guy people think wants to called sir will `yeah ma’am´ his girlfriend by sheer `accident´.

which means? pillow prince chris — here we come.

although he can be easygoing, chan has a tendency to overthink subbing just like he overthinks everything else, but it also makes him neither reckless nor overly reliant. which is a good thing.

then again, he has something so authentic about him (i mean come on, that dimpled baby smile), he’ll always do well.

he’s a talented submissive physically. sensual and good-looking in all positions and blindfolds. not to mention that it’s so relaxing to toy with his curls between your fingers after sex.

guess who will worship his domme. that’s right, the one who knows the value and strain of leadership himself the very most.

chan, no matter how awkward he thinks he is, always says the right words of appreciation at the right time. not to mention that his voice has such a comfortable tone to it. he tells you in what ways he thinks you always do a good job with him, and how attractive you are in his loving eyes. call him a cheeseball, but that’s bang chan for you.

he doesn’t like hierarchy as much as people would believe. he prefers organization over social stratum. chan is trying hard to be a good feminist which naturally entails putting on crop tops in your presence. but seriously now. he could ‚awh, my good girl‘ you technically and be decent (because what can’t he do), but submissive channie is just the more interesting variety of chris’ sexy alter egos.

is the `reading yourself into the topic’ kinda guy. instead of leaving the verbal input to you, he takes that task off your shoulders and consults his PC instead. god, the blogs he’ll land on.

you have to remind him it’s not workload, it’s leisure. nevertheless, you credit him for being responsible and intellectual about it. that way, you can advance pretty easily with discovering new kinks.

despite his vast research, chan is easily shocked by things that are considered more extreme. he’d be like oh my god... sounding?! chan makes for a better soft than hard sub, even if there are exceptions for some toys and techniques you would use on him.

casual domination in his studio? you biting his neck while riding his thighs? why not. lee know, who delivers random take-out into the room at one point since chan forgot to eat dinner, is totally unimpressed nor fazed at all. having sex? nothing special. who cares. here’s your pizza. extra funghi and cheese. seconds later, he took off again.

chan is shaken by your composure, and lee know’s, and will totally lock the door next time, or put a sticky note on there. which the members do respect, but they really don’t make a big deal about you fucking at his place. hell, they hear hyunjin moan all day.

talk about others watching. chan dreams of several doms running a train on him and pulling out the peak degradation scenarios, but he’s too afraid to try an actual #wolfgangbang.

in many regards, he’s similar to felix in his sexual fantasies, although they are much more `orderly´ if that makes sense. people are set in their ways, adhere to their roles, do their thing in a prescribed way. it’s all very lawful good. chan sticks to letting that fantasy be a fantasy, however, knowing he’s all very new to this.

all in all: chan is a gentlemanly new school sub. man, i’m not sorry, i’m dirty… that was a lie. he’s pretty clean. compare him with hyunjin’s chaos-causing aura and you know what i mean.

and besides his tidiness, he’s also a good pillow talker, which you treasure. god, this man is so loveable.

chan should really be the one receiving a big protective bear hug for a change. chris protects everyone, but who protects chris!

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♡ SEUNGMIN 승민

a wise choice of sub, my friend. you have picked well.

seungmin lived the subby life before it was cool, and will live the subby life after it was cool. period.

at this point, seungmin might as well be called submin. should be his whole second name.

no gimmicks and trendy shit to be expected here. he has his own established philosophy that he wants to share with you.

and he’s a stamina monster, you wouldn’t believe it. he really doesn’t get exhausted easily, nor does he shy away from the more demanding set-ups that an advanced dominant would come up with. expert-level shibari and the like, knife play and the like. medical play, even.

his body is ready.

seungmin might be a humorous guy, but he takes subbing seriously. especially because he’s no longer a beginner and wants to pick up some final touches during the training you lay out for him. that requires focus.

the one true closet freak. uh-oh. no matter how good you are at reading people, you could not have possibly fathomed how far he was willing to go when you first met.

it took some time until you realized okay, he really wants to step it up a notch. his requests seem innocent enough in his tone of voice, because seungmin can make anything sound innocent, but wow... the degree of humiliation he can brace himself for is pretty intense. pretty daring for a puppy i reckon.

breaking news: someone might have a corruption kink.

you got yourself one of the most courageous subs right there. people who want to top seungmin aren’t exactly touchy-feely either. they surely have a strict, punitive, ice-cold side with a stinging wit — which he enjoys the most in a dominant.

he wants to be put in his deserved place. he wants to be pushed and pushed and pushed some more until his dirty mouth no longer grants him the upper hand. this whole process... might involve some candle wax.

he wants that fatigue, and see you smug because he’s been subdued after all. that’s pretty gratifying. he for sure does not need a service top. he needs somebody to tread all over him, call him names, and leave him drooling like a filthy little thing.

human furniture everyone? he’ll be your seat, your table, whatever your mood says. you can sit on him until he no longer begs.

training him merely means bringing him from a high level to the highest level. he’s either a natural about certain kinks or doesn’t need to be taught at all, he’s already pulling it off. less effort needed on your side, you’re grateful he’s being such a pro.

seungmin is definitely a rational thinker about improving himself as a submissive, which is most certainly a rare find.

but the emotional side... let me tell you a secret. you think han and changbin yell their soul out… oh no. should you demand it of him, seungmin is the screamer. like real authentic organic stuff going on, that makes you feel it in your bones. any sadist attracted to stray kids should immediately turn to seungmin. he’s no coward. seungmin is the final boss of letting it out. five stars.

you wish people would see his potential, but you also want to keep his kinky side to yourself. gatekeeping your pup, are you. good for you.

takes orders with flying colors, he is excellent. he’s very trusting but also doesn’t switch his brain off. that makes him a near-perfect play partner.

has about the smoothest moans you can think of. his vocal talent absolutely translates to hitting it off in the sheets… and the improvised home dungeon.

of course you have one. how could you not. it’s filled with all kinds of fetish collections and risqué polaroids that should never make it out of that room.

he likes spending lots of time there to say the least. as a couple, that room is your dirty secret and you’re proud of it.

and he’s surely the guy you wanna put to the test there. seungmin flinching? hardly ever. he’s unafraid, with many eccentric soft limits to try out. definitely not your regular sub is what i wanna say. that’s what it boils down to.

and to be certain we’re mentioning this. do we really have to establish the fact that he’d be into puppy play? no? okay, figures. put those ears on him already. scratch that, glue them onto seungmin permanently or something.

and let’s face it, which animal is more suitable and in need to be trained than a cute little puppy dog? he can let go and start from zero, that’s why he loves it. seungmin on a leash is just an amazingly pretty sight, it needs to be photographed.

in terms of more hidden talents, he’s the god of doing everything extra slow. which is not easy at all. seungmin has remarkable self- and body control in bed.

slow licks, slow back arch, slow tears, slow everything. he cries pretty silently from pleasure or pain, but it makes for a wonderful sight always. i’m telling you, seungmin is something else.

a delicacy for every domme who’s into proper dacryphilia. how can someone cry this beautifully, like an antique painting.

long story short. he is not to be underestimated, nor does he have to be trained by any means unless it’s just play-pretend.

roleplay is definitely high up on his bucket list, by the way. he looks sexy in all kinds of costumes.

and handcuffs. uh-huh.

seungmin’s softer sub side is balm for the soul, too. he likes his praise especially, guy’s so sensitive to it. and he will crawl on the ground to fulfill your every wish, tell him to bring you a plate with cake and there he goes, you get any delicacy you want.

yes, yes. he appreciates getting his smooches. and head pats. he can really go far with the rougher kinks, but don’t you ever think he doesn’t.

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♡ HAN 한

seriously. who doesn’t want jisung whimpering for mercy in their ear?

this guy is literally perfect to train. where he has the question, you got an answer. when he is curious, you can show him something. when he has an idea, you have a way to implement it. when he could use a hint, you have one ready.

on top of that: jisung has a propensity of admiring his girlfriend a lot, so... you can see where this is going. i’m not saying it’s a dynamic of worship but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

because han is very much afraid that it will be one-sided or he will look utterly desperate, or stupid even, he held back on it until he realized that you have no problem with him holding onto your every word. why’d you not like han being dumbstruck by you. you enjoy the amount of respect behind that.

and that feeling of jisung being struck by cupid’s arrow so hard, it’s utterly cute how he acts when he’s in love.

the thing is, whatever he does, he can’t hide it anyway. han projects everything outward, he’d have to really get his head in the game to hide how he wants to relate to you.

it’s clear he wants to submit, though he doesn’t exactly know how, he can’t name it, his cluelessness makes him rely on you more than most of the other members would, although he’s similar to felix and chan. and, covertly, lee know, who also sticks like glue so to speak, jisung has the same type of ‘hooked on you like velcro’ personality.

han, often the confused and worried type, really needs the clearest instructions of them all. orders, direction, highly engaged leadership. which sounds more difficult than it really is.

once he’s begging to show you how to put the full body harness on properly, you’re already deeply immersed. still, you ask him just to be very certain two times, does he want to do this for real, is he bracing himself enough. you are sure, and you want him to be sure.

come to think of it, 3racha might actually be the members most nervous to submit, becoming suddenly talkative and overly observant. they’re familiar with presenting themselves as larger-than-life personalities with a lot of grit and coolness, so taking that leap won’t come to them as naturally as for members like seungmin or felix.

not that subs can’t be cool and gritty, lee know is the walking example. and hyunjin remains a larger-than-life personality even when he subs. but 3racha has more of a dominant image imprinted on them for being so extremely buff and hip-hop based, with faces and voices and skills that scream ‚top of their game‘.

however, you can watch that beefcake crumble once the handcuffs are on and the bamboo cane comes out.

for those who don’t know: canes are typically the kinds of impact tools that come with the most vicious sting. they’re slender and flexible, hence they really dig themselves into those thighs and booty, all without causing a cut. while most whips look far more terrifying, they’re not as high up on the pain scale. sure, they’re not paddles, but you get the gist. canes are sort of the non plus ultra.

if you use bamboo to discipline a sub, they’ve been a really bad boy. which might just happen with… not jisung.

he’s lovely to you anyway, what are we even saying. hannie is the goodest bestest sweetest loveliest submissive. that’s right. i hope you didn’t hear it here first, but yes.

in fact, anticipate him being shy and restrained. though he can be all over the place, han is a polite sub.

he’s not that much of a forward character like hyunjin throwing himself into a hug, or seungmin saying which way he wants to be spanked up front.

han will actually be unsure what to do, but that might be connected to his character in general. in order for him not to get lost kind of `spiritually´ and physically, you have to guide his hands and mind alike.

if it’s too much for him, you have to make sure not to speed up the learning process like it would be appropriate for say, lee know. han is a different breed here, repetition is key.

it’s better if his dom doesn’t hold his need for slow memorizing against him, he doesn’t do it to be deliberately bratty or anything.

he wants to be trained in seriousness and see how it’s done properly two or three times rather than just once. he enjoys the quality time that comes with it, that’s important to him as well.

talk about restraints: if your darkest fantasy involves tying jisung to your bed from all directions and going full sensory deprivation, only to tease the shit out of him so he’ll go nuts: you’ve come to the right place. jisung is thoroughly fascinated by constructions like that, the whole tools and toys and trivia of it. he’ll also be down for some more provocative positions you’ll tie him into. no problem.

reaction king number one. so, that’s satisfying.

you don’t have to give it to him raw to get noise out of him.

the poor ass neighbors, though. this needs some precautions. as with changbin: a gag will work some miracles to tame him: or any type of dildo will do, his throat will become really flexible and unhinged with practice. just imagine those wide eyes and teary sobs. top tier shit. han is a hidden deepthroat legend.

you’ve never heard screams and moans as varied as his. every day he comes up with something new. honestly, how does he do it. from “ah, ah, please, ah” to loud frickin’ “spank me harder!” screams.

han will never fail to tell you how good it is, and he’s not demanding of ‘great sex’. he evaluates things according to how stimulating a scene is emotionally rather than physically. where hyunjin would do both or felix would look at how comfortable (and amicable, you know him) it is, han begs to differ and makes the atmosphere priority. even awkwardness is something to go off of, and silly mistakes. not severe ones obviously, but you get the gist: anything happening is something happening! han just likes the eventfulness of it. it’s actually precious. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it when you have an insecure day or don’t feel 100% confident about some technique.

as long as there is any activity, han will be energized by it. although he can be high maintenance sometimes, he’s very easy to please and a rewarding, easy sub, somebody who won’t judge you as harshly as he would clock his members for acting shady. and to be fair, you’re certainly not as scheming as jeongin to say the very least, he cannot be surpassed. so, han wouldn’t even have a reason to call you out for something, even when you prank him harmlessly. again: all fun is good fun, as long as the fun is present!

han is most definitely a dark horse as a sub, but it’s no wonder he likes to please his partner very much.

jisung might come off as a jokester who doesn’t want to get too close, but just you wait until you put some candles on, some music on, and you take a bath together.

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♡ CHANGBIN 창빈

since sub changbin is a world on his own, i think it’s time to give an analogy.

leo might be the king among the zodiac, loud and roaring. imposing, even, bursting with physicality and their very own brand of authority. this animal is very hard to challenge, in fact. compared to other inhabitants of the desert, a mighty lion among its pack is often recognized first despite its laid-back way of moving, and the way it takes its status and power as a given.

but at the end of the day? a lion still belongs to the family of felines and has the cuteness instinct of any cat. no lion goes without affection of his loved ones, nor does he move a singular paw to get something done sometimes. although agile, other animals are much more direct in their brutality, speed, and the way they claim territory. lions are actually chill most of the time, what makes others fear them is merely size and volume rather than real voluntary attacking power. lions only get going when they really have to since their stamina is low, and most of their standing rather depends on pride and need for attention than active domineering all day.

lions would rather stroll, sit, munch, and have their mane stroked than wander around in the heat to get some heat. when shit hits the fan, one lion always need the help of others. you won’t see a lion fighting on his own, while a single gorilla could absolutely clobber him in jungle dense enough. in other words: lions are overestimated in their power. they’re more relaxed than you think. they’re snoozing cats, but slightly bigger. well... changbin is pretty similar. he unleashes his entire grind within the group, but as a partner it’s a whole different game.

soon as you cup his cheeks palm in palm, it’s over. he just melts away. like c’mon. as if he’s gonna say nooo i’ll switch back immediately! ain’t gonna happen.

he’s the guy who acts so big and bold, but the little voice in him tells changbin hey… let her take some care of you there for good measure. so to speak — he doesn’t have to be the one on the steering wheel. changbin is kind of running into a mental conflict though, because he’s not as experienced with dating.

he doesn’t want to burden his girlfriend either by being overbearing or acting overly needy. you tell him, chances are, at home he’ll be neither. there’s no camera rolling and no expectation. and you give him attention whenever, it’s not like he has to plead for it. “be natural” and trusting his gut sounds like an utterly lame pinterest board advice, but it’s the gist.

it’s something new to him, and peanuts to you. at the beginning, it’s all about bridging that gap.

what’s easier than patting changbin’s hair and telling him how cute he is, though? biting into an apple or something.

which is also the topic of your relationship since you go a little pervy sometimes and bite his ass. you know, as a treat.

the binbooty is a jiggly mystery on its own and deserves to be explored. be honest, you grab it to release stress like it’s your religion. damn, it’s really soft and comforting indeed. bless his ass.

and while we’re talking soft things versus hard stuff.

sure, you could go like yeah… hate sex… let’s yell at each other.

but hey, thinking outside the box? you have lots of fun turning things upside down by having him bite down on a rope gag. what unusual silence. this probably wouldn’t work on a sub like hyunjin, he’d only whine even more, but changbin is pretty consistent.

but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

he’s rather romantic, very sensitive in front of his partner. changbin respects them for topping him very expertly and reliably. he’s impressed by her knowledge and skills if she’s in the game for longer, or wowed by her dare if she’s new to it.

as for himself, changbin thinks he’ll still have to catch up. where other people in the rapper scene would have to catch up with him, your boyfriend feels the need to sit down in seriousness and research what that bdsm stuff is all about. that’s all a whole new world for him, you know. his epiphany being, this works like this, and that works like that.

often clumsy in bondage, but you make up for it by coaching him through the whole thing. changbin gets confused which rope end goes where, and how to unfasten the entire construction properly if need be, so you take some time studying it rather than just jumping the gun. he’s more involved than you think, changbin wouldn’t like being an all-too passive sub.

and if we’re talking masochism. he can take less than you think, so you gotta work him into it. unlike with seungmin, you can’t just crank out a whip or paddles and go ahead. changbin is a very step-by-step submissive. next to a good relaxing bath, reassurance is his best friend.

this is exciting: he’s totally into fetish wear from the very beginning. that’s where his zone of confidence is. bdsm fashion on such a built guy, let’s go, man. i mean, who wouldn’t say somebody like felix looks great in harnesses. or seungmin. but with changbin, you know... he has a kind of silhouette and natural fashion sense that makes it easy to dress him sexily, with a lot of skin reveals.

changbin without his gear is like stray kids without chan: the essential thing would be missing. i know, the whole group — stray kids? more like latex men — already looks like they’re about to bust it open for a strapped-out dominatrix, but changbin takes it to the next level.

harnesses in all shapes and variations are neatly stacked and hung right in his closet for the world to see. he doesn’t care. changbin is the primordial bdsm fashionista. what can’t he pull off?

in fact, he’s the type to accompany you to an actual bdsm party, you know, to be shown off. he might even make a name for himself in the community, he definitely rolls that way.

that this aegyo and rap machine on two legs can make jay z look boring and he’s got an aggressive voice doesn’t disqualify him from subbing well. changbin’s soft and adorable side is well-documented. he’s gonna be a good boy and massage you how you want it. unlike that bitchy lil’ tease jeongin, he actually deserves resting on your lap without first earning it, and humming to himself, if you’re not the one doing it.

him being chronically honest makes it easier to grow and improve. if the knot is too tight, he’ll let you know. if it’s too loose, same thing. changbin would both be entertaining and sexy to train. and adorable to tuck in with his stuffed animals.

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♡ JEONGIN 아이엔

who knew maknae on top could also bottom.

why? he’s long been spoiled from head to toe and sat on top of the world. this guy thinks everything belongs to him, huh. people throw it all in his direction. they are the metal, he is the magnet. hell, he claims the center of attention more than god, does he. enough is enough. men from busan in general have been an infestation of daringness for far too long. he got ‘em all under his spell with all that cuteness.

this boy needs to put some work into it and bow down in humility. the universe needs balance, my friends. his divine maknae powers and privileges need to be ripped away from him for once.

hence: training sub jeongin — and taking his virginity — is such a juicy topic.

it’s about time this pretty mf gets owned by his girlfriend. he knows he deserves his booty to be stepped on, face to the ground (... on a sufficiently fluffy carpet, this divine skin needs to be protected from any gravel, wood splinters, and concrete).

even in other circumstances, with enough punishment and reward, jeongin is the sort of sub that can most likely be found on the floor. he is down for you to bend him into any shape. forced to kneel, forced to crawl, made to kiss your feet. a leash most often helps to have him memorize the movements, and he has to get his head in the game. no disobedience: in theory.

you need to put him in the kitchen and have him bake. all your favorite stuff. every day. all while wearing the tightest apron in history. with a time limit set. maybe that will teach him not to beg you pleasing him here and there and everywhere. he’ll focus on a task and you watch on with hawk eyes. he needs to follow the recipe correctly, every bit of flour, every grain of sugar. you’re gonna make a whole service sub out of him.

never forget, although you already know: you’re dealing with the quintessential giggling brat. he’s trying to make you simp, he invented the term. he wants you like a puppet on his strings, ‘inspiring you´ to give him the supposed `heavy punishments´ he himself came up with.

sigh, he’s an aquarius. it’s to be expected. jeongin loves to mess with his top just to break their poker face. at the end of the day, that’s literally all this blushy boy wants.

fair enough.

maybe, um, you give that reward to him, only to be able to resume play without any further problems. if we’re honest: winking and smiling at your sub works wonders. because they love to know how much you enjoy being in charge, after all. and he delights in being flirted with. in obnoxious amounts, that is. jeongin could sit on your lap 23/7 without ever feeling the need to leave somewhere.

and jeongin is a black hole when it comes to your flirtation. he wants to take it all in, baby. and he wants to have a monopoly on getting your attention and smirky smirks. he can’t stand the idea of you ever looking at any other cute subs so he’ll make an effort to dress himself well. which definitely doesn’t go overlooked. he doesn’t even have to blink and he has his first time with you. this snack looks too good to be ignored, and you have a huge soft spot for him. out of one tentative time develops a constant stream of steamy date nights.

a highly affectionate and doting mistress sounds like it, but she also needs to train his consistency and rule-abiding at the same time. like seriously make him stick to a code of conduct.

and: she needs to be rough enough to kick him if he so desires and is confident to take it. training jeongin into some ballbusting madness? hell yeah. that’s his thing. a lot of people would not dare raise their foot, so: jeongin is on the lookout for tops who go the extra mile and tend not to hesitate.

spanking, mhh… that’s his favorite, though. he will bend it over and shake it for you like you’re about to make it rain on him, so let’s get this baby bread. jeongin often finds himself hunched across your lap, but also the edge of a bed or a chair. a kitchen counter if you’re nasty. or the backseat of a car.

jeongin has no problem with your butt fixation, he knows he looks good head to toe. he even thinks it’s cute how you crave him.

greedy boy. very. greedy. excessively craving. smiles through his punishments because you know he succeeded. which results in even more severe discipline. which makes jeongin smirk. which makes you go even harder on him. the list goes on. just like that, you’ll find yourself in hard domme territory faster than you think, without even noticing the transition. probably means it was supposed to be rougher bdsm in the first place.

mouth gags won’t do the trick. he’s not han, and he’s not changbin. jeongin is better tamed by a proper dose of chastity. the one that turns a please… please… into a please, please! tough luck for him, you go strict on your sweet honey boy. a little tickle to the thigh is all he’s getting. which makes jeongin extremely clingy to get his affection otherwise.

on the other hand, you can dress him up all pretty, jeongin is very welcoming when it comes to a change of wardrobe for personal playtime.

since he’ll watch his mouth at some point, cute jeongin takes over. his duality is just fascinating to a dom to watch.

put it on his tombstone… death by tiddies. annihilated, in fact. in jeongin's version of bdsm, cbt can mean both cock and ball torture or crushed by tiddies.

because you can’t spell suffocation without I and N. like what in the everloving hell makes jeongin crave breath play so much.

and if we’re talking physical affection by the way.

he’d only let someone this close if his heart was really, and i mean like really touched by them, like enamored. he’s very comfortable being a real maknae there.

you got yourself the prettiest baby and man, you’ll be happy with him. he keeps you on your toes, but he’s also a softie to hug and squeeze.

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♡ LEE KNOW 리노

saving the best for last, are we. handsome satan incarnate, a seemingly unbreakable guy. someone with several cats he can learn inscrutable hacks of badassery from. which might be his secret, or is he a rebel without a cause looking for somebody to drag his sassy demon ass out of hell? hmm... time to find out.

many a domme would absolutely not be able to crack this tsundere’s code to his heart (and how to make his eyes roll back in a way that’s not sarcastic). lee know is truly picky about who he’s gonna allow to dominate him. in fact, he’s this close to staging a talent show to find the one and only, like with actual critiques and rankings and shit. what the hell, though.

lee know is the excalibur of stray kids. you really have to be worthy to get through the stone-like exterior.

at first, he might even seem like a cruel top with a glare in his eyes. but once you’ve seen him in sub drop, you know what he’s up to. lee know is protecting his inner submissive like a dragon sitting on a pile of gold. he’ll only gift it to someone with a good character and some life experience.

it could be someone younger or older, though preferably, he needs a woman who has seen it all to match him. he’s very open to dating dommes who have been in the bdsm scene for a little longer than him. he’s been swiping himself through some promising suggestions, and he’s tried stuff, but... it needs something less casual at some point.

he’s grown too frustrated and confounded by his experimenting, and the nervousness is killing him every time meeting a new play partner. settling becomes more and more of a goal as time passes. he’ll look toward people who have more knowledge under their belt.

people would wonder why, but you gotta remember, this bun’s only 23. lino has more interest in being guided than his demeanor would suggest.

upon first meeting him, you suspect he’s had some bad experiences, but he’s secretive and shy by nature. it takes a while until he’s less closed off. it needs many a nickname and some heartfelt affection. especially feeding him with snacks or kissing his lashes. which are wonderful by the way, he’s actually like a doe rather than a cat.

lee know finds it challenging to talk about any deep traumas, so an open ear and empty shoulder to lean on are very much appreciated. that his domme isn’t the judgy type is pretty important to him.

a feeling of being in safe hands, that’s his priority. he wants to look up to you. and feel like he can really pour himself into that relationship, that every meeting is really precious.

let’s be honest. minho’s brand of cuteness hits different. even when he’s grumpy, it’s effortless. when you put your big scarf around him and only his eyes are visible, he’s the most adorable lil’ muffin.

and now listen. for those who think he makes a better top. this lying cheating girlbossing ass should never be allowed anywhere near a shelf of spreader bars and a latex gimp. okay? okay. lee know gotta learn some manners, predictability, and patience for his domme to apply those things on him. a huge part of sub training with lino actually means making him wait. that one breaks even the craziest brats. you gotta know how to play with your sub’s intensity of desire.

his opinion is this. lee know can’t be bothered to do endless discussions about how to stage a scene. he doesn’t want it to be a performance of sexiness like hyunjin, or a wholesome snugglefest like felix, but a more spontaneous power exchange. no more strict protocols, although safety is never out the window of course. but more like... just living in the moment. what does that tell you, though? again, he really already has had a lot of sexual encounters of the bdsm kind. lee know has met a lot of different dominants and characters to see what he’s dealing with. at one point, yes, he saw a new person every week.

you need to be the type to respect his past and not worry that he’ll move on. you met on a different accord and during a different phase in his life. when he says it’ll only be one night, it’s gonna be like that. and if he says he wants to commit, he means it. you’ll be having great sex all the time and be really domestic.

ironically, pretty babe is totally laissez-faire about the whole thing. maybe he’s subbing out of spite, that’s what you suspect. you’re like what, is he trying to flex? reality is, lino developed a lot of resolve. it’s not just for tops, okay. subs can have their share of swag. to a certain degree. you gotta rein `em in there. especially lee know. but then, also: you gotta be aware that he might not have the much more subtle esteem or confidence in relationships that is more read between the lines. you gotta be the one being his rock.

once you really got under his skin, he surprises you with very passionate masochistic noises just when you thought he couldn’t act any more indifferent about the latest kinky stuff you wanted to try. at the end of the day, he’s not as bitchy and tough as he pretends to be: lee know is a sensitive hoe at heart.

lino doesn’t really care about 100% categorizing himself according to bdsm mores. at the beginning, you think okay, he’s a bit of a lawless one, but he has a certain kind of logic behind that. minho has no fixed preference for what type of sub he is, and limiting himself for the future does not make a lot of sense to him. he knows his states of mind are always changing, and he can grow into some forms of intimacy he doubted before. think seungmin’s versatility, but times two.

lee know experiments, he has strong moods going into either direction, soft and hard and also vanilla. one time he just wants gentle femdom, the other you’ll find him down for putting on the cat ears and getting railed into a wall like there’s no tomorrow. he will keep his teeth clenched and enjoy the ride.

face it: your boy is a full-on scorpio. he’ll only feel truly alive when he’s eating ass and getting fucked hard into a witless delirium, and when you hurt him. he’s not afraid of some nails digging into his tender skin, or getting roped up in a hogtie. the opposite is true. he’s not uneasy about pain.

just like seungmin, lee know hardly ever safewords. this is not about his pride or something — it’s just not necessary. it’s gonna surprise you how comfortable he is with the most varied kinks. to begin with, he doesn’t have as many hard limits as the other members. he also tends to have outstanding endurance. he hikes a lot with you, dances diligently, and masturbates pretty frequently. that definitely builds up to something.

he’s very much into you pinning him anywhere, kitty loves the challenge of a good kabedon. it’s the first bold move, what’s he gonna do? be shy or kiss back? it’s an adventure every time.

often, he’s simply offering his body for you to do what you want. „you can like fistfight god or just take it out on me“ is an all-time favorite shitpost sentence you’ll hear from him.

needs a top who always has the right clapback. lee know can only be trained properly if his domme is verbally quick to the heavens.

she also needs to have a propensity to physically overpower him to keep that dynamic going. this bae enjoys the struggle of having his wrists grabbed, to get pushed down onto a bed, to be carried around, to be choked out with good technique, to get sandwiched by thighs, to be sat on so he can’t move, to be flipped around when needed, to be womanhandled completely. he gets pretty excited when someone is rough in their grip. if his domme is working out, she already understands what he’s all about.

crazy thing he’s doing some „yay opposite time“ on some days. lee know becomes very cozy and doesn’t want to leave your side at all. no more brutality, he just yearns for eye contact.

you will not know how much lee know is rooting for you, with one big crush that is, until you run into your ex-sub at a house party. since said guy is making you so uncomfortable and a leveled approach just won’t do, minho’s inner lucifer resorts to flaming your ex with vicious cutting words about how undeserving he evidently is. like, this is getting sinister.

once the altercation comes to who has the better face card, minho can do anything but lose. you know your tastes, and you know you upgraded. before they battle out who has the best pain tolerance, the host of the party, rosé, sends your ex flying into the pool. if anything, lee know’s true colors have been showing through his loyalty. he was ready to like, go until the break of dawn in that debate. he’s still disgruntled about the guy harassing you months later.

like damn, he’ll stress-eat and be glued to you for weeks. he can’t stop hugging you in his sleep.

yup, what an edgy guy. but then again… watch how much effort this beauty puts into cooking for you, like double the amount of care. tells you a lot. minho really loves you, man.

read it on ao3

for more: sub!idols m.list ♡

sub!skz orgasm faces/bondage scenario | sub!hyunjin oneshot | sub!felix oneshot

💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated let’s talk 💕

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 14 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Blood. Assault in various forms. Miscarriage. Death/Mourning. Pregnancy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: I'm so sorry in advance, y'all, cuz this one might knock you on your ass with its dramatic angst and give you whiplash after the last few chapters. Honestly, I hurt myself a bit with this one! *sob* Needless to say, the tone is a bit different here. Please make sure you read the trigger warnings for this part because there are some sensitive topics!

While I hesitated to make a part all in flashback, I couldn't seem to avoid it without creating a ridiculously giant chapter, and I also didn't want to make you wait that long, so here it is, complete with a cliffhanger!

Speaking of that, thank you for being so patient while I got this out. Life is kicking my butt a bit, and I SO appreciate you hanging in there with me!

Also, look out for some fun 1960 Elvis posts/reblogs later so you can get the full visual of his March 1960 glory, in case I haven't described it well enough LOL. I included a Rollerdome pic at the end as well.

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to Elvis Twitter, who stumbled into the Pink Scarf vortex and are now with us in the chokehold of '69 Pink Scarf Era Elvis and are supporting and sharing this lil' fic over there--I see you and appreciate you! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

March 1960

You shouldn’t feel nervous. It’s just Elvis. But having not seen him in person in over 18 months, or even really being able to talk on the phone, you wonder if too much time has passed, if too much has changed, if the man who went into the Army two years ago is still the friend you cherished.

You wait in front of Graceland in the icy March air with Jack and a multitude of other close friends and relations for Elvis to arrive, shivering in your heavy coat. It’s a strange limbo you all are in, this energy of the end of one thing and the start of something new and unknown. You can’t help feeling that everything is different somehow, that a new era has begun.

This feeling is compounded by the secret you are keeping. You had been wary to accept that your greatest hope is finally coming true, but after your appointment yesterday afternoon, you are finally starting to settle into the fact that new life is growing inside you. You haven’t told anyone yet, not even Jack, since Elvis’ imminent arrival has taken over everyone’s minds. While you have no need to be the center of attention, you also know that the news would get lost in Elvis’ return. No one could compete with Elvis for any sort of attention. It would be a losing battle.

Honestly, you are glad to sit with the knowledge on your own for a moment, to give yourself a minute to adjust to your new reality. And part of you is still quite scared that this could all be over in a flash. It’s still early, the doctor said, even though you were further along than you’d originally thought. But after two years of nothing, there is a piece of you that doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

Perhaps that is truly why you’re feeling nervous and it’s nothing to do with Elvis at all.

Everyone around you starts to buzz, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see the police cruiser, lights and sirens and all, coming up the long drive. When it finally pulls up in front of the house and Elvis gets out, everyone explodes with liveliness.

It takes a moment for the small crowd to clear enough for you to see him fully. When his tall frame comes completely into view, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of your body. You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud.

He looks beyond incredible. So incredible, in fact, that your heart is suddenly fluttering in your chest like a schoolgirl’s. You have seen him in his uniform before, of course, but the last time, he was so miserable after the death of his mother that the uniform seemed like a prison, an unforgiving punishment almost. Of course, you’d also seen pictures for publicity and ones he sent home which would occasionally show him in his uniform. He always was handsome, to be sure, but now…now, something was different.

You try to put your finger on it because it really has thrown you for a loop. You aren’t some fawning, adoring fan, for god’s sake. But you cannot help but openly stare at the man in front of you. He positively glows. His blue eyes sparkle with the happiness of being home, but it’s not only that. Taking off his cap and tucking it under his arm, he surveys the small crowd and his home with joy. The blue of his dress uniform brings out the reddish-blonde of his natural hair color and the blush on his cheeks. His hair is long again on top, grown out and curled up and mussed from his hat. Compared to the Army buzz cut, it is more reminiscent of his signature coiffed 50’s style, but somehow more mature yet rebellious at the same time. It suits him very well, you think, highlighting high cheekbones, long face, and his now quite chiseled jaw.

Elvis’ whole face is lit up with happiness, that signature grin white and wide, as friends and family gather around him. You can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy to see that smile again in person. When you finally catch his eye, you feel like the whole world stops. It’s ridiculous really, the way your heart throbs in your ears, but you swear his face changes almost imperceptibly when he sees you. You’re not exactly sure how, but it softens somehow, imbued with just a little more warmth than he’s already exuding. His eyes travel over you only briefly before Jack reaches out to embrace him, but in that short moment, you suddenly feel self-conscious.

Once his eyes leave you, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding. You look down, clasping your hands in front of you, but when you look up again, Elvis is looking at you from over Jack’s shoulder. You are absolutely caught in his blue-eyed gaze.

Stop being stupid, it’s just Elvis.

Perhaps your sudden intimidation by your dear friend is that he left Graceland a boy but has returned a man. Even though he’s thin, it’s in a leaner, more carved, more refined way than before. He still retains a bit of his baby face, but his countenance is different, settled, more worldly.

After exchanging words with Jack that you are too overcome to hear, Elvis steps around him and comes towards you, his attentions focused completely on you.

“Hey there, y/n darlin’,” he says gently, his voice still heavily accented, high and bright.

“Welcome home, Elvis,” you say. It barely sounds like you, you think, too quiet and soft and breathless. You ring your hands nervously.

He begins to open his arms and you know he means to embrace you, and all of a sudden, you are certain you are going to faint. It’s as if you know that if he touches you, right here and now, looking as he does and with the way his essence is radiating around you, something will be irrevocably changed. Your heart flutters and your breath rate increases, and you almost panic as he closes the gap, those eyes of his looking at you in such a way that you feel completely, utterly exposed. You want to run away, but you are frozen to the spot.

Just as he steps up to you, he’s attacked from the side by his young cousin. The moment between you is thankfully interrupted, and you instantly step back and behind Jack as the boy wrestles Elvis.

“Jesus, kid, a little warning next time!” he shouts playfully, putting the kid in a headlock and rubbing his knuckle into his head. He catches your eye for a fraction of a second, his face somewhere between regret and chagrin at not being able to hug you. You manage a small smile, but practically hide behind Jack, grabbing his hand as you warily look on.

The horde gratefully moves inside, out of the cold late winter chill. The look that flashes over Elvis’ face as he crosses the threshold is one of trepidation, grief. You realize being home must come with mixed emotions; after all, the last time he was here was when his dear mama passed, and this was the home he’d gotten for her.

You’re not sure that anyone else catches how his breath hitches and how those pretty eyes become anxious. In that moment, you forget all about the strange reaction you had to him not a minute ago and you ache to go to him, to pull him into your arms and tell him it’ll all be okay.

It seems like both forever and just yesterday that he wept in your arms on the stairs, bereft and inconsolable, as his mother lay in the other room in her casket. He had refused to leave her, petting her, and talking their baby talk to her for so long that they had finally placed glass over her to dissuade him. Even then, he had sat vigil by her side and as you all looked on in collective grief, as the concern for him and his deteriorating state was palpable. Almost no one was able to get him away for longer than a few minutes—first it was the Colonel near shoving him and Vernon out the door and into the arms of the vultures with the cameras outside. Then, Sam Phillips was able to console him for a bit. Jack and the boys and Anita all tried to pull him away, but they were only swept up by him to go see Gladys, and his tearful ramblings continued about how beautiful she looked and her tiny little “sooties,” and then his wailing and sobbing would commence once again.

His mama had always been more than kind to you, and you cried for her loss, but it was truly Elvis’ grief that had the tears rolling down your cheeks. But you hadn’t wanted to overstep your bounds. However, he’d stopped eating and drinking, and looked positively exhausted, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Eventually, you could stand it no more.

“Elvis, honey, I need you…” you’d said, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. He’d looked up at you sharply, eyes so bloodshot and filled with tears that the blue of his irises seemed unnaturally bright, his innocence and grief leeching out of them. You faltered then at the state of him, stumbling over your words, wanting to be as kind as possible. You cleared your throat, continuing, “I need you to come with me, sweetie.”

And somehow, against all odds, he listened to you, of all people. Wordlessly, he’d stood, drawing you tightly to him, his arm gripping your waist and his tall frame leaning on you for support, nearly knocking you over. You’d stumbled with him to the stairs, and he’d just collapsed into you, his head buried into your neck, clinging to you as if drowning in his grief and you were his life preserver. His heart wrenching sobs had silent tears flowing down your own cheeks, and you’d held him, petting him, cooing at him, your protective gaze shooing the onlookers away.

Eventually, after some time, he quieted. You could feel the heat of his head through the now-soaked top of your dress. “Oh, E, you’re burning up,” you’d said, feeling his face with your hands. He’d worked himself into such a state that his body was rebelling against him, and you’d whispered to someone nearby to call the doctor.

At that point, he’d had little fight left in him, and Jack and Sam had helped get him up to bed once the doctor had come. But he’d still clung to you, not letting you leave him once in his ornate, darkened cave of a bedroom. Elvis wouldn’t settle or let the doctor administer the much-needed sedative until you were in the huge bed with him and he was curled in your lap. You had looked to Jack wide-eyed for some sort of support, part of you feeling a little scandalized by being invited into Elvis’ bed, but none of the men knew what to do, and you were the only one so far that had been able to get him away from Gladys. You just got harried looks of bewilderment from everyone, and the doctor had just nodded to you, as if giving you permission to climb up in with him, doctor’s orders. Anything to calm Elvis down.

So you had, your heart breaking for him, confused as to why it was you who he needed, not Anita or Vernon or Jack. Regardless of how strange it was, you were his friend, and you’d do anything to help, no matter your own comfort. You’d stayed with him through the night, back leaning up against the headboard awkwardly, staying even after the sedative took hold because when you’d tried to leave, he’d still clung to you, heavy and feverish.

For hours you’d held vigil over him, hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, eventually drifting in and out of sleep, though any movement from him had you startling awake. And when you woke in the morning, stiff as hell, and Elvis blinked up at you with those huge, grieving puppy dog eyes, the pang in your heart was evident and confusing.

After those few horrid days, you never spoke of it again. You never asked him why it was you who’d been able to reach him through his grief, and beyond a whispered “thank you” in your ear before he left for Germany, he never mentioned it again. Not that you’d seen him for him to do so. Maybe that is why you are nervous, you think, because the last time you saw him, he was so utterly lost, and for whatever reason, you had been a lifeline in one of his worst moments. And that feels significant somehow, though you aren’t sure exactly how.

That look you see in his eyes now reminds you too much of that look from 18 months ago. But there are a bunch of family and friends between the two of you, crowded in the entryway, bustling with excitement, all seemingly oblivious to Elvis’ distress.

It angers you a bit, the way they all clamor over him without truly seeing him. You stand as rooted as he is, as if your being able to move is tied to him somehow. He looks at you then, sensing your gaze or your thoughts in that almost preternatural way of his, and you see the overwhelm in his eyes. The way the endless blue of them seems clouded over with pain and grief. The way they almost beg you to save him.

This, out of everything, gets you in motion, stepping towards him in the crowded space, but there are so many damn people that you can’t get to him. By the time you sidestep cousins and friends, you’ve watched as his face changes, a mask slipping over those handsome features so seamlessly that it takes you aback. You stop short, amazed at the way he now smiles and laughs at the antics around him, as if nothing happened.

You realize he must’ve had to do this to survive over there. There was no way he could show that kind of vulnerability during tank maneuvers or whatever they had him doing. He’s protecting himself, you think.

But it still rubs you the wrong way. The ease with which he switched emotions was disconcerting to you. Somewhat bitterly, you think that he certainly didn’t need your help through his pain this time.

Oh, stop, you chide yourself. He’s been home all of five minutes and first you wanted to run away from him and now you’re mad his grief isn’t crippling him? What’s wrong with you?

“Okay, okay, y’all, I need to go get changed! The press is gonna be here any minute,” Elvis chuckles and waves you all off, climbing the stairs. His eyes catch yours in the briefest of moments and you swear there is something unsaid in them. And then he’s gone, up into his room.

A shiver passes over you, your stomach flipping, and then a wave of nausea comes.

Jack sees you and comes over with concern in his eyes, cupping your cheek. “You alright, treasure? You look a little green in the gills,” he says.

“I…uh…my stomach is upset, sweetie. Excuse me,” you say quickly, the bile rising, and you make quickly for the bathroom down the hall. Once safely locked away, you rush to the toilet, sick. Luckily, once out, the queasiness passes quickly.

The doctor said this could happen, you think, looking at the reflection of your red face in the mirror. You rinse your mouth out and splash your face with cold water. It certainly has nothing to do with Elvis. That would be absurd.

It’s just the look in his eyes is haunting you and you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s just your hormones being in overdrive. Yes, that makes sense. You are on edge and not seeing things clearly. Or maybe too clearly.

After a multitude of deep breaths, you straighten your dress and hair, then head back out into the fray. You find yourself in an empty house. You wander about to find that most everyone has gone back outside to witness Elvis’ triumphant return to Graceland as procured by the press.

They have arrived, littering the snow-dusted lawn and taking photographs and recordings of Elvis as he sits in front of a huge guitar shaped cake. You peek over someone’s shoulder and your jaw nearly drops at the sight. Clad now in all black, his wool coat is appropriate for the chill, but his black shirt is open halfway down his torso, a large gold medallion resting on his bare chest. If he’d looked like the All-American boy getting out of that car not 30 minutes ago, now he looks like the perfect combination of sweet and sinful.

Oh, dear lord.

His chestnut hair is perfectly imperfect, a rogue lock falling over his forehead. You think perhaps he’s added a little shadow and mascara to his eyes, or maybe he’s just exhausted from the long journey home, but whichever it is, the slight darkness on his lids gives him a stunningly beautiful look, his blue eyes popping and dancing with a combination of mischievousness, aloofness, and candor. Somehow, he has retained the youthful swell of his cheeks while also now having a jawline that could cut glass.

As you watch Elvis pick at the cake, deftly putting pieces of it in his mouth with his fingers, the innocent gesture seems almost obscene and that lightheaded feeling comes over you again, this time with a swell of warmth.

You want to look away, you really do, but you’ve forgotten your friend’s natural charm, how his essence pulls even the most unwilling into his orbit. His beauty is one thing, but the feeling that surrounds him is another thing all together. It’s not just you caught in the pull, however. Friends and family gather around, too, though they are likely not experiencing the same type of reaction as you.

Oh, this is utterly ridiculous, you think. Elvis has always been pretty and alluring. Get ahold of yourself.

You think it must be the pregnancy hormones, the way your body flushes from head to toe just watching him eat his cake and play to the camera. You force yourself not to follow as they direct Elvis towards Vernon’s office for the press conference, his tall frame gliding across the lawn in the most confident and nonchalant of ways. He commands his audience as though he’d never left, born to be at the forefront of everything. Focused on the cameras, he does not see you, or so you think, until he catches you staring and quirks his brow.

This finally prompts you to move, turning away quickly and heading back into the warmth of the house. You are glad for the cold, as it gives a reason for your cheeks to be as red as they are, and it douses your heated body with a much-needed chill.

You are embarrassed by your behavior. Elvis is not some idol to be gawked at, not by you. Perhaps it is because you feel so removed from him in his absence, or it is the unasked questions that linger in your mind from before he’d left, but your nerves buzz annoyingly.

You manage to avoid him after the press conference, as he’s utterly exhausted from his trip back home and all it had entailed and sends everyone on their way with the promise of a party the next evening.

Later, lying in bed, you wonder what in the hell came over you. It’s got to be the nerves and excitement about the life growing inside you colliding with the trepidation of your friend’s return all at once. You also know that pregnant women have a multitude of strange physical symptoms, especially in the early days, which would explain nearly everything.

That must be it. It’s not about Elvis at all. It’s your body telling you that you are pregnant.

Finally.

The thought sends a flutter of a different kind through your chest. It’s one of excitement and hope and a little fear. You place your hands on your belly, imbued with a sense of motherly responsibility. You drift to sleep thinking of holding your child in your arms.

The party the next night has Graceland lit up in a way it hasn’t been in years. An air of celebration surrounds the place, chasing away any of the leftover morbidity from Gladys’ passing. You hold Jack’s hand tightly as you enter the mansion, that strange anxiousness from yesterday threatening to ruin your night.

Maybe you should have told Jack about the baby before you came, but no moment seemed quite right. Telling him before work would have distracted him and telling him before the party still seemed to be stepping on the toes of Elvis’ return. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him for sure tomorrow, you think pointedly.

The warm air of the house nearly overwhelms you, and the two of you strip your heavy coats and head towards the sound of Elvis’ boisterous laughter. Your dress is fitted only at the waist and not over the belly, which you are glad for, even though you are hardly showing yet.

You manage to find a seat in the corner with Jack far enough from Elvis that you can breathe, as the fact that he still looks incredible has not changed in the last 24 hours. Why you are so completely stuck on his shocking handsomeness and consumed by whatever prowess he is exuding, you still do not quite know, but it continues to affect you and keep you wary. Shaking off your unhelpful thoughts, you busy yourself talking with Anita, Pat, and the other girls as the men joke and play. After a while, this finally settles your nerves, but you are very conscious of not letting yourself get too close to Elvis as the night goes on, as if being too near will disrupt the tenuous equilibrium you are trying to maintain.

Later in the evening, you excuse yourself and head to the restroom. You can’t help but look in the mirror, rubbing your belly even though it’s impossible to tell yet. This puts a smile on your face, your sweet little secret. And this is how you exit, smiling, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Shit!” you gasp, jumping out of your skin at Elvis leaning casually against the wall across from you. Your heart gallops against your ribcage, one hand flying to your heart and the other to your belly in a protective gesture. “Elvis, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry, y/n,” he says, pushing off the wall, eyes remorseful but watching you carefully.

You find yourself barely able to look at him with him being this close. You will your heart to slow, will yourself to act normal, but it’s like you can’t. You can’t quite meet his eyes, you can’t quite breathe and escape is all you can think of. You awkwardly gesture to the bathroom, thinking that it’s why he’s lurking in the hallway, and then you step away from him without another word.

“Hey, now,” he says from behind you, perturbed, “You wait just a damn minute.”

Elvis’ long fingers circle around your wrist, grabbing you, and it feels like fire. Startled, you turn back and look down at how he holds you firm. You hardly have a moment to process that he’s touching you before he’s pulling you into a room across the hallway. Yelping, you have no choice but to follow—he’s much stronger than you—and he holds fast as flips on the lamp and then shuts the door behind the two of you. He releases you, then folds his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Elvis…” you start, confused and shocked and trying to process whatever is going on.

“Did I make you mad or do something to offend you?” he interrupts, his voice laced with hurt. Those intense blue eyes of his lock you in place, betraying his churning emotions.

“What? No, what are you—?” you sputter out, faltering under his gaze and needing to look away.

“That! That right there. You can’t even hardly look at me!” he points, voice raising angrily. “You barely said three words to me since I been home!” He steps towards you and instinctually you step back, a hand flying to your belly, as the intensity of being this close to him has you completely overwhelmed.

His eyes widen. “Look at you, you can’t even be in the same room as me without skittering away like a little bird. I thought I was imaginin’ it for a minute.” Elvis pauses, looking you over. “Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly, the hurt palpable in both his body and voice.

Your heart aches at the sight of him like, forcing you to relax and be more mindful of your actions. “No, of course I’m not afraid of you, Elvis,” you breathe. You aren’t, truly.

“Then what did I do?” he asks with such childlike innocence, such hurt, that your heart breaks for causing it.

“Nothing, E, you didn’t do anything, I swear,” you insist, going to him, unable to bear the look on his cherubic face. You force yourself to get close, pushing through your silly fears.

“Why ya bein’ so strange then, baby?” Elvis asks, eyes scanning your face. This close, you realize you could fall and drown in their oceanic blue intensity.

How can you answer that? You certainly cannot say, “Yes, Elvis, I’m being strange because you came back too handsome and your charming presence overwhelms me, and I don’t know where I stand with you, and oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.”

Your brain scrambles for an answer as the tension between the two of you increases to a level that has you sweating, and you blink up at him, flustered. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that…I guess I am afraid that you’re different, or that things have changed too much while you were gone, or that it’s been too long and that you might not, I don’t know, you might not see me as your friend anymore?” you prattle on, the honesty in your words surprising you. The idea and the truth of it brings tears to your eyes.

His beautiful face softens, his mouth popping open as emotions flash over his features so quickly that you cannot grasp them completely. You feel utterly caught up in him, the loss of control and your feelings frightening you.

“Never,” Elvis whispers finally, “Never in a million years could that happen, baby.” The way he looks down at you is charged, confusing, intense.

Your heart flips. A rogue tear slips down your cheek. Stupid hormones.

You are close enough now that you can feel the energy of him pulsate around you. It makes your breath catch when he brushes the tear off your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. You’re not sure if you can bear him touching you more than that because it sends a shockwave through your body.

“So, you missed me?” he asks, a sideways grin beginning to widen on his face.

“’Course I missed you, you idiot,” you sniffle.

“Some way of showin’ it,” he jokes now, breaking some of the tension.

“Well, I’ve had some things on my mind,” you say pointedly. “Life didn’t stop just cuz you were in Germany, ya know.”

You don’t realize that your arm has been wrapped over your belly all this time. Elvis narrows his eyes at you, steps back, and then looks you over very deliberately. Self-conscious and confused under the scrutiny, you blush.

“What?” you ask nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A huge smile spreads over his features and his eyes light up. “Congratulations, doll,” he grins at you.

He knows. Elvis, of all people, knows your secret after spending less than five minutes with you.

You are shocked enough that you don’t try to deny it. “I…How…?” you stutter out.

“You bein’ so skittish and protective, and the way you been holdin’ yourself this whole time is different. Explains that real pretty glow about ya, too,” he says, booping your nose playfully.

You blush harder. “Elvis, I just found out. No one knows yet, not even Jack, so don’t you dare go saying anything yet. It’s still real early,” you say in a warning tone.

Elvis nods, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Seriously, E, not a freakin’ word, promise me!” you say. He is a terrible secret keeper.

“Okay, okay, I promise!” he grins.

“Lord, with the way you’re buzzing, you’d think I was having your baby!” you laugh.

Something changes in his eyes, but it’s gone so quick that you can’t put your finger on it. He does still a bit, though, and you look at him quizzically. He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you openly. The air has shifted once again.

“Well, we should probably get back out there. Everybody must be missing the man of the hour,” you say, clearing your throat and turning to leave.

Before you can go far, Elvis’ fingers dance over yours, reaching, as if wanting to hold your hand and pull you back but hesitating as if he shouldn’t. Your breath catches, an odd feeling blooming in your chest, like you are falling. You look back and down, seeing and feeling his fingers graze yours in such a strangely much-too-intimate way. He doesn’t stop, fingers brushing and winding through yours. You can’t help the way yours start to move around his in the now heavy silence. Your eyes raise to meet his, heart racing.

“Y/n, I—” he starts to say, voice low and gaze intense.

“EP!! Where the hell you at, man?” Red shouts from the hallway, startling you both, causing you to drop your hands as though they were suddenly on fire. As if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Elvis visibly shakes himself off and crosses in front of you to open the door. It opens a crack and then he stops, turning back to you quickly, mouth open as if he wants to finish what he was trying to say. He must think better of it, though, because he just shakes his head again and sucks in his cheeks before heading out the door without another word.

You pause, frozen to the spot, as your heart thunders in your ears. Befuddled, you try and process the last few minutes, try to piece out what the hell just happened. Your hand splays on your belly, your face hot and your body warm.

You were right, you think, a lot has changed. Everything and nothing, all at once.

After that, things move quickly. With Elvis’ new knowledge, you tell Jack immediately about the baby, pulling him aside at the party. He is thrilled.

A few blissful weeks pass. You’ve been feeling okay physically, just some nausea and lightheadedness, but your nerves are still a bit on edge. The strange moment between you and Elvis the night of the party lingers in your mind, just under the surface, and every time you see him, that odd falling feeling comes over you for a moment. It doesn’t help that when he sees you, something in him changes. It’s so subtle that you doubt anyone notices; in fact, you think you could be imagining it if not for the charged, unreadable look in his eyes. But to you he seems overly attentive to your every move, protective even.

You try and chalk this weird intuition and the way your body feels up to the pregnancy. Your body is changing a little each day, and maybe this is just a part of it.

Elvis has been enjoying his few weeks at home before everything starts up for him again, and consequently, so have all of you, finding yourselves pulled back into his orbit easily. He’s travelling down to Miami soon to be on Frank Sinatra’s show and then he starts filming his next movie in April. You have mixed feelings about this, dreading him leaving so soon again, but you also think perhaps it is a good thing to be away from him considering the tricks your mind seems to be playing on you.

Tonight, he rents out the Rainbow Rollerdome for an evening of what he dubs the “Roller Skating Wars.” You, of course, will not be skating in your condition, but that certainly doesn’t stop you from putting on a cute polka dotted dress and going to observe the chaos you know will ensue.

Jack, unfortunately, stays home, struck suddenly in the afternoon with a sore throat and fever. You tell him you will stay home and take care of him, but he brushes you off and tells you he’s just going to be sleeping anyway, that you should go and have fun. He practically pushes you out the door.

When you arrive at the Rollerdome, you quickly find the girls and plant yourself in one of the big booths with a coke, some popcorn, and some candy. Your cravings for sweets have been intense this last week, and you pick delightfully at the confections as you watch everyone skate around.

Elvis has a silly grin plastered on his face as he wheels up to your table, his hair so long and fluffy on top that it bounces with him, product keeping it standing nearly straight up. On anyone else, it would look absolutely ridiculous, but with Elvis being Elvis, it just seems to highlight how incredibly handsome he’s become. Honestly, he nearly takes your breath away in his dark polo with the popped collar, his eyes electric and dancing, his face long and jaw chiseled.

At least you know that you aren’t the only one noticing the change in his looks, because the other girls seem to blush and smile more as he looms over you all, the skates putting him nearly six and a half feet tall.

“Ladies, everybody got their skates?” he drawls charmingly.

Everyone giggles and there’s a chorus of “Yes, Elvis!” as they show off their skates. For a moment, you are a bit upset that you can’t skate, but that is quickly banished by the excitement of the life growing inside you.

“Well, go on then!” he motions, and the ladies scurry, happy to be summoned.

After they clamor out of the booth, Elvis looks at you more seriously.

“No skating for you tonight, right?” he asks protectively, cobalt eyes narrowing.

Your heart does that falling thing for a moment before you respond. “Nope, feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much!” you smile.

He nods, pleased by this. “Where’s Jack? I haven’t seen him,” he asks, looking around.

“Oh, he’s at home, sick. Booted me out of there. I think he was annoyed at me hovering, to be honest,” you chuckle.

“You gonna be okay over here? I don’t want you to be by yourself,” Elvis says, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll come and watch you all here in a minute. My back’s bothering me a bit, so I’m fine to sit for a spell.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, brow furrowing, as if sensing something about you that you couldn’t sense yourself.

“Yes, E, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Now, shoo, and go have some fun, but for god’s sake don’t go killin’ yourself or anyone else out there!” you laugh.

Elvis looks at you in that unreadable way of his for a moment, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “No promises!” he shouts as he skates away.

You let out a breath after he leaves. His presence is still overwhelming to you, no matter how much you try to logic it away, so for now you are just accepting it. Such is living a life with Elvis in it.

Your back really is starting to bother you, which you attribute to the obvious, and after a few minutes alone, you realize you would rather be around people than not. You get up from the booth, then a wave of dizziness overtakes you and you grab the edge of the table for support as you blink away the spots in your eyes.

You wonder for a moment if you might be coming down with whatever Jack has, but your throat is fine. After a moment, the wave mostly passes, so you make your way to the skating rink to watch the group from the sidelines. There are a few people on the sidelines, and you have fun making small talk and watching the antics in the rink. After a bit, most of the girls come back out as Elvis and the boys are getting pretty rough, and part of you is a little glad Jack isn’t here to get injured.

You ignore the ache in your back (it’s just something you’ll have to get used to, after all) and another wave of lightheadedness hits you as you all head back to the table. You are starting to feel distracted, your stomach churning now a bit, too, and you remind yourself that being pregnant isn’t necessarily a picnic. You feel a bit claustrophobic now, shoved in the booth with the other ladies, and excuse yourself to the restroom, thinking it might be time to go home.

Something’s wrong, you think, a feeling of dread coming over you. Forcing yourself to breathe, you remind yourself again and again that you are just pregnant and these are symptoms of that. You pause at the water fountain to drink, hoping the water might settle your stomach.

As you are bent over, someone zips behind you on skates, then suddenly you feel a hand groping your backside.

Yelping, you choke on the water and jump, turning around.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” a man you don’t recognize leers at you, way too close for comfort.

“Excuse me,” you say haughtily, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, making your lightheadedness even worse. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“Naw, you’re the prettiest girl in here. Why ya all by your lonesome?” he purrs at you, the sound setting off every warning bell in your body, adrenaline clashing with your dizziness and churning stomach. He leans down, as if to try and kiss you and you push him back.

“Leave me alone!” you say, your voice raising in both volume and pitch. You try to sidestep him, but he grabs you hard and presses you into the wall. You think you might vomit all over him.

“Don’t be like that! All I want is a little kiss,” he says, one wandering hand groping your chest as his lips come at you.

“Don’t touch me! Stop it!” you shriek, trying to squirm out of his grasp as his disgusting mouth roams over your face and neck. Your body betrays you, though, your back throbbing, weakness overcoming your limbs, and you can’t fight him off. You curse the fact that the bathrooms are so far back from the rest of the group, and you pray that someone hears you.

“Get off of me!” you try to scream, but he’s trying to silence you with his hand. Panic overtakes you now as you realize this man is going to hurt you, but in your current state, you are unable to fight.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!” You hear the low growl before the horrible man boxing you in is yanked backwards and sideways, his eyes bulging in surprise. You gasp as you watch Elvis collide with the man, his momentum from how fast he must have been skating sending the man flying.

The man stumbles and rolls, flailing and falling, and Elvis looks like you’ve never seen him before as he spins around. His eyes are dark and lethal, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his chest heaves with his breath. He looks terrifying, his focus singular, and you are almost afraid for the man. Almost.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Elvis growls again, pulling the dazed man upright by his shirt. “What the fuck were you doin’ to her?!” he yells, pulling back his arm and then socking the man in the jaw so hard you can hear the crack. The man is stunned for a moment, blood beginning to seep from the corner of his mouth, but he recovers, taking a swing at Elvis.

It barely grazes him and doesn’t even phase Elvis, who seems possessed. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch her!” Elvis shouts, then punches the man in the face again, hard, sending him flying.

Things are happening so fast, you can barely process it. You can hardly breathe, the waves of dizziness pouring over you, making it hard to focus.

Elvis goes for the man again, and suddenly you are fearful he might kill him because he seems so blacked out with rage. Elvis hits him again and the man falls to the floor in a heap, bloody and bruised.

“Elvis, Elvis, stop!” you try to call out, but your voice is too quiet, wavering, and he is too far gone. You need to stop him before he does something he cannot take back, and you know something is wrong with you because you can’t get your body to move the way you need it to.

It’s then that a sharp, searing pain burns in your abdomen, and a primal scream bursts from your lungs. A shockwave of agony rolls through you, knocking the breath from your body. It’s so sudden and all-encompassing that you see red, and you clutch at your belly, your head spinning, fearing the worst.

The baby.

Your cry finally snaps Elvis back to reality because he’s with you in a flash, fear and concern flashing over his features, replacing the fury that was there mere seconds ago.

“Y/n! Y/n, what is it? Did he hurt you?” he gasps, looking you over as tears stream down your cheeks.

You can’t catch your breath, and your heart is beating too fast. Then, you feel hot liquid spread from your belly downwards, life spilling out of you, running down your legs. You feel sick as you look down, Elvis’ gaze following your own. That’s when you see the dark red begin to stain your dress and your stockings.

It’s over, it’s over, the baby, oh god, runs through your head, a dismal chant in your mind. You look at Elvis with resigned horror, but you are feeling so lightheaded, you can barely focus on anything. Even the pain starts to wane and feel distant. You know this isn’t normal, even for a miscarriage. Something is terribly wrong.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you hear him beg, his hands on your face, your shoulders, his eyes wild with terror now. “We need help over here!” he bellows, never taking his eyes off you.

They are so beautiful, those crystalline eyes, those dark lashes, you think absently as you begin to slump over.

You are somewhat aware of his strong arms catching you as he slides down with you to the floor. They feel so warm and comforting, you think. You blink up at him, your vision starting to dim.

“Y/n, no, don’t you dare, you stay w-w-with me, b-baby,” Elvis says in a panic, shaking you, pulling you into his lap. A sharp metallic smell permeates the air. “Somebody c-call a damn ambulance!” you hear him shout. You can hear the terror in his voice, in his stutter, and you wonder why he’s so scared. You’ve never heard him this scared.

“Elvis?” you whisper. You try to keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard.

“Yeah, b-b-baby?” his voice shudders. You can feel his chest heaving as he presses you into him, rocking you, tucking your head under his. He always has to be moving, his energy always vibrating around him.

“I feel so strange…” you say, and you do. You’re aware of the pain but it feels so far away. Everything feels far away except for the heat of Elvis, which feels like a blanket around you. With the warmth pouring out of you, you start to feel cold.

“I-I-I know, baby. Come on, you stay awake, now,” he says in your ear as your eyes start to close. He shakes you again. You force them to flutter open. You think whatever is happening must be really bad if he’s so scared.

“Tell Jack I…I love him,” you breathe quietly, just in case.

“You tell him yourself, damnit,” Elvis chokes out, pulling you in closer.

“Thanks for…being…my friend…so good to me,” you say, but it’s not enough. You can’t seem to get the right words out, your mouth filling with cotton. You bring your shaking fingers up to his cheek, your face is buried in his neck, his smell surrounding you. He smells so nice. He feels so good wrapped around you. You’re not nervous to be near him anymore, all of that seems so silly now. Your hand drifts and you feel his full lips under your fingertips. They really are as soft as they look.

You can’t keep your eyes open anymore and blackness starts to swallow you, your hand falling onto his chest, but you feel unusually calm.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go. I-I love you, y/n, please, I love y…” Elvis whispers pleadingly in your ear.

His quiet, startling confession fades away and is the last thing you hear before the world goes completely dark and silent.

Elvis at the Rainbow Rollerdome, March 19th, 1960

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crow2222 · 2 months

Note

You're aware of what finning is right? Idk if it's actually called finning but I find it makes much more sense to call it that, basically, Mer!AU, where Darry, an orca mer, is getting or has gotten finned? You can add the gang finding him either without his fins, laying in the sand, or arriving in time to help him not lose his fins.

I've just had this bouncing around for a while and need someone who can actually write as opposed to my gibberish.

Sodapop merman art for this as well 💋!!

WC: 1,970 words

Darry still wasn't back.

Ponyboy kept pestering Sodapop, asking where he was; which showed that he was obviously concerned for his older brother. He'd act all tuff in front of Darry though, pretend as if he doesn't care.

Soda didn't get that about his brothers, they always seemed to hide how they felt about each other which is quite odd, at least for him. Soda never hid how he’s feeling with them, even when he thought of doing so.

Pony was at the point of hysterics at this point, "Wha' if- wha' if it's like mother and father?" His voice was quiet, hushed, like he didn't want the fish around them to hear.

Darry? Killed by hunters? No. No way.

Sodapop couldn't help but scoff, Darry was smart, he was strong, and he knew the spots where the humans would fish.

Pony glared at his brother, his irises quickly sharpening to mere slits, "What so funny?" His body tensed up, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration, wondering if Soda thought of him as a joke.

Despite his tough exterior, and trying to seem dangerous, all Soda could really see was his little baby brother scowling at him as if he stole his brother’s fish, alongside those grayish green eyes that seemed to always be reflecting light coming from the surface.

With a wave of his hand, Soda explained. "Sorry, sorry. I jus' reckon we would know if somethin' would happen t' 'im though." He hopped up from the rock he was resting on, he just couldn't be sitting still anymore. Pony, knowing this, swam up with his brother and they started going up towards the shore, around where Darry was meant to be.

"Sketchy, that's what this is. Why must he go to this.. place anyways?" Soda realised Pony must've been referencing the Tavern up a bit beyond the shore. It was extremely loud and bright there at night, which would scare fish away, especially when humans came down to the shore as well. Darry prohibited them from ever going near the shore, saying he'd personally make sure they'd never be able to swim again.

Sodapop shrugged his shoulders with a shake of his head, “I’d tell ya if I knew.” They were basically at the end of the water of where they could still swim comfortably. Soda knew Pony never went as far as here, but he's gone to some “bonfire parties” himself at the shore, which is exactly why he has a hidden stash of clothes on the surface. As Soda wondered if he should tell his brother, he could start smelling copper..he could smell blood.

Pony must’ve as well, because he met his older brothers’ eyes. Both of them reflected the same fear, the fear of Darry being gone.

A quick visual search in the water proved useless as the blood trailed out of the water. Soda tried to make Pony stay in the water, not wanting his first out on the surface experience to be possibly as horrible as this, but there was no stopping him when it came to their brother, whether it was about his safety or raging against him.

They quickly went across the shallow water, knowing it was dangerous to be caught during these early morning hours.

That’s when the hunters came out.

They finally caught on that the blood trail was lengthened by the water currents, and not by movement itself.

Soda stared at the giant rock where the blood seemed to pool from.

He could feel every scale on his translucent skin quiver as he slowly approached the other side of the boulder, Pony trailing right behind him. He felt nauseous, his heartbeat roaring in his ears as he peered over the corner,

And then he realised their worst fear was real.

Darry lay half hoisted on the rock, his face scrunched up, pain visible in every crevice on his face. The blood covering him didn’t help his image, but as Sodapop searched for his injury, he instantly found out what it was.

His fins were gone.

Sodapop then heard a sharp gasp behind him, then nothing at all, as if Pony was holding his breath, just for a chance to hear Darry’s. Soda soon realised that he was doing it too. They were in suspense for what felt like eternity, but then they both watched his chest rise. They probably let out the biggest sighs of their lives all at once.

Sodapop broke the agonizing silence first, “Help me bring him further up.” And Ponyboy, like a good little brother, asked no questions and helped Soda by grabbing other Darry's arm, and they both dragged him up under the decaying wooden bridge at the beach despite Darry's groans of protest.

Ponyboy hastily found his position, hugging his brother, and just watched as his other brother left, any trace of his tail and fins gone.

The way Sodapop ran off puzzled Ponyboy, since when was Sodapop able to walk so flawlessly on his two feet? He's tried his fair share of walking on land when his brothers weren't around, but he never truly got the hang of it.

He wanted to wipe the sudden tears out of his eyes, especially since all he could see was a red blur of his brother but he didn't dare move his arms away from his brother's possibly dying body, hoping that his will alone will save Darry.

It didn't take long for Sodapop to come back, all dressed up in loose human clothes, with even more bundled up in his hands.

Sodapop tried to silently pry Pony off of Darry, but Pony would defensively bare his teeth, not even bothering to think of what his brother was trying to accomplish.

The middle child found himself sighing impatiently, “I want to bandage him up Pony. So he stops bleeding out?” He snapped at his brother, feeling the guilt seep into his bones after he uttered the last word.

But before Sodapop could apologize, Pony's arms slithered off Darry, revealing that they were now also covered in the crimson liquid as well.

Sodapop paid little to no mind to Ponyboy, instead Soda started to tear apart his spare clothes and wrap up anything he could. The wound on Darry's back was the hardest to bandage, but he eventually did it, not without the help of a giant shirt he stole of course.

Darry moved only the slightest bit to help with Sodapop's handiwork, but his panting and whines at each move was heartbreaking for his brothers to hear.

What was even more heart shattering? When he called out for their mom.

It was barely a squeak from his throat, but both the brothers caught it, the air suffocating them from the overwhelming worry.

Sodapop and Ponyboy sat side by side, both now in their “human forms”, not really sure of what to do next. Without his fins, Darry isn't able to swim. Being in the water would also mean the bandages Sodapop just applied would be of no use.

Pony shivered in the navy shirt his brother had given him, the sleeves were ripped off as bandages, but he didn't dare complain.

Darry was in some sort of jacket, whatever that is. Ponyboy was just being taught these words, as Soda tried to distract him from the fact that he had no clue how else to help Darry.

After a bit more of talking, it was Ponyboy that actually had come up with an idea. “Wha if we get human help?” Sodapop's eyes widened as he looked down at his brother, but before he could ask if he was utterly crazy, Pony continued.

“We have ta git 'im in his human form, and then we call a human over? I mean.. almost completely light out Soda, we bound to get noticed.” Ponyboy whispered, as if he was already afraid of being caught.

Sodapop sighed again, noting how his brother's idea isn't actually that bad. “You know what? Sure Pony.” But the hardest part was yet to come, trying to convince Darry to change his form whilst in pain.

Soda carefully shook Darry’s shoulder whilst calling his name, and after only three “Darry"s later, he opened his eyes with a short grunt.

Trying his best to be gentle, Sodapop helped Darry to sit up straight. “Can ya get out of the tail? We need ta get human help Dar.” He spoke softly, similar to the way he'd speak to Pony after he had a bad nightmare.

Darry's eyes opened slightly to see his younger brothers’ fearful faces. “Aye.” His voice was thick with exhaustion, and now Soda started to worry that he'd been laying out by the rocks, awake, for far too long.

As Soda and Pony waited for Darry, their heads snapped up as the wood above them creaked awkwardly with pressure.

A human.., a hunter?

Sodapop faced his baby brother, “Go get that human for help, I'll stay with Darry.” Instead of following anything Soda would ask of him, he shook his head vigorously.

“Natter with human? No! No!” His eyes seemed even more full of tears if that was possible, it was a shock to Soda that they haven't spilled out yet.

And so, with an annoyed huff, Soda got up himself and pointed at Pony. “Stay right here.” And then he hurried off for help.

Soda sprinted up the land, until the bridge was low enough for him to push up onto it. As he looked sideways, towards the sunrise, he noticed only one person on the bridge.

“Help!” He yelled out, running even faster than earlier to reach the man as quickly as possible. “Help- My kin! He's hurt and he needs mighty help!”

The man turned around, his greased up rusty hair lit up by the morning sun hues. “They be hurt?” Despite the rude interruption of his morning rum, he didn't find it in himself to be mad about that.

“Yes! By uh.” Soda bit down on his lips, realizing what he'd have to say. “By those bloomin' sirens!” He spat out the words with as much hate as he could muster, and only when he finished his sentence, he realised his lip was bleeding.

The bottle clicked as the man set it down, it twas still almost full but it'd have to wait. “Where's ye heartie?” The man seemed to get focused after he mentioned a siren, but Sodapop already knew the hatred of his species from his time at the tavern, Bucks.

“Under the bridge!” Sodapop jumped straight down, the drop landing him in the water. The man, on the other hand, ran down the bridge a bit before jumping down, so he landed on the dry sand instead.

Sodapop led the man to his brothers lickety-split, surprised that Darry seemed less groggy from the last time he saw him.

Darry stared daggers at the human, but his look faltered as another wave of pain hit him, where he let out a quiet hiss as he jammed his eyes shut.

The man looked stunned for a second, before going up to Darry, and helped him up by wrapping his arm around his waist. Darry, in turn, hooked his arm around the man's neck with a whimper.

The man tipped his head towards Soda, and soon enough the two of them were hoisting Darry up, and walking towards the town not far from the shore.

Pony was right at their tail, glad that the human wasn't looking at him as he was subtly trying to figure out how to walk. He knew enough to follow them, but his balance was all over the place.

The man shook his head with a crazy grin once they left the sandy beach. “Blimey! Wait 'til me crew sees the state o' ‘im.”

#the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders fanart #theoutsiders #fanart #the outsiders writing #tumblr asks #umm so i may or may not have this as an au now..#and i may or may not be making designs rn #and a storyline.....#ermm!!!#tumblr ask #pirate au

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