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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Unrequited Love ~ HHJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.9K

PAIRING: Hyunjin x GN!Reader (If there are any mistakes please tell me so I can change them 🥰♥)

Terms: Mx - Used as a replacement for Mr/Mrs/Sir/Ma’am

GENRE: AU, Hanahkai AU, friends to lovers, angst, fluffy, pining,

A/N: You guys know how much I love AU’s so I had so much fun with this!!

Hanahkai Disease: This is a fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when they’re in one-sided love. It ends when the love returns (Can’t be a strong friendship, only romantic feelings) or the victim will die. The disease can be surgically removed but the feelings for the crush will be gone.

Unrequited love. Something that had been written about in all forms for almost 5500 years. There were always the stories of the person finally getting the one they truly wanted. Beating the Unrequited love and overcoming everything to be with the one you loved. This would be fine and dandy if you had a normal crush on someone and weren't like Hyunjin.

Hyunjin had something different about him, something that he'd never heard about until he'd been online researching for hours. Hanahkai Disease. Besides all of the troll accounts talking about how the disease wasn't "real" there were so many other articles and medical documents to back it up. The one thing that stuck out to Hyunjin the most about it all was that it could kill him. From anywhere from 2-3 weeks or 18 months. Being told you had anywhere between 2-3 weeks and 18 months to live was never anything good.

All of this because he had a stupid crush on somebody. His lungs were filled with roses that would gradually get bigger until they rendered his breathing useless. All he could do whenever he thought about his crush or even spoke to her for too long was cough up flowers into his hands or if he could make it, a bathroom.

"What's on your mind? You've got that weird look in your eyes." Your voice broke Hyunjin out of his daydream and he turned to look at you. Blushing a little as he realises he was spacing out in the middle of your study date.

The two of you were sitting in the back of the college library trying to cram for an upcoming test but his mind was elsewhere. What was the point in studying when he knew he was going to die? There was no way Sooyoung was going to like him back.

Waving your hand in front of his face again he looked at you nervously. There was clearly something bothering him and it wasn't the study material. Hyunjin could take this test four times over in his sleep if he really wanted to.

"I want to tell you something but you have to promise me that you won't laugh." Putting your pen down on the table you looked at him.

Whatever it was, was clearly serious. Hyunjin had never been so serious about something before and you'd known him almost your whole life.

The pair of you had been best friends since you moved to his neighbourhood when you were six. Growing up together, going to the same schools until you both attended the same college.

"What is it?" You questioned softly as he looked at you. The idea of telling you about the disease toying in his head. The fact that he had been dealing with this alone for the last three months was beginning to bother him and he knew he could tell you anything.

There wasn't a single thing in the world that you would ever judge him for. You were the one person he knew he could count on for anything and the same was for you with him.

"Have you heard of Hanahkai disesase?" The name rang a bell and you began to think about it.

"I think-"

"The rare disease that some people get when they're in one-sided love?" You nodded at him. You'd heard about it a lot. Super rare, hardly heard of really. Doctors had done all of the research that they could on it. It could be surgically removed but it all risked permanent damage to the lungs and it would cost forgetting the person you were in love with altogether,

"I have it," The world seemed to stop spinning as you stared at your best friend. Laughing a little you shook your head, there was no way he had it.

"What do you mean you have it?" You questioned a little harshly as you stared at him. All thoughts of studying going out of your head as you stared at your best friend.

"I mean, I have it. What else could that mean?" He snapped a little angrily at you, you leant back against the chair shaking your head. Letting it sink in that he had this disease as well as was in love with someone and hadn't told you about it.

The two of you told each other everything.

Or so you thought. Why hadn’t he told you he was in love with someone? Or that he suffered from this in the first place? When did the two of you begin to keep secrets from one another?

"You can't...I mean who do you have a crush on?" Racking your brain you tried to think of someone Hyunjin had mentioned even briefly but there was nothing. Nothing and no one that you could think of that he would have a crush on.

"Sooyoung,"

"Sooyoung?" You looked behind him down a couple of tables to see her sitting there.

Sitting at one of the rounded tables as she did nothing but brush her hair and look pretty. There was no denying that she was gorgeous but you never thought Hyunjin would go for someone like her.

Someone so perfect.

Jet black hair perfectly straight, wearing designer clothes and always had boys surrounded her. Waiting on her hands and knees as if she was some kind of queen. The whole college seemed to fall in love with her.

"Sooyoung?" You questioned again, a little more unimpressed this time. Hyunjin could already tell you hated the fact that it was Sooyoung of all people and so did he. It wasn't as if he wanted to feel this way about her.

"I'm telling you because I want your help," Help? What did he want you to do? Go up and tell her that if she didn't love him back your best friend was going to die?

"What am I meant to do?" You questioned leaning forward a little to see what his plan was for all of this.

"You're good at this, tell me what girls like." You blinked at him

"What on earth makes you think I'm good at this? I know what girls like but Sooyoung isn't like every other girl...She's a different breed." The woman had exquisite taste and clearly liked things differently from those around her.

"Will you help me at least get her attention," Smirking at him you nodded. Getting her attention was going to be easy enough.

"Sure." Picking up the rubber from the table you launched it across the room hitting one of the boys in the head before it dropped down in front of Sooyoung.

Gasping a little she looked down at it and then around the room to figure out who had thrown it but you'd already turned to Hyunjin.

"Fetch." You mumbled to him watching as he glared at you.

Oh if looks could kill.

"Sorry, my friend is stressed." He whispered as he bent down in front of Sooyoung. Their eyes locking as she giggled at him, reaching down to touch his long dark-brown hair. It was always the hair that people fell in love with first. Smirking a little you were glad you had french-braided one side and put it into a ponytail.

"Cute," She whispered as she twirled a strand of his hair around her delicate fingers. Instantly Hyunjin felt his throat beginning to clog up with petals so he smiled before calmly walking to the door. Frowning as you watched him you waited to see what he was doing. Before you could even get up he was racing down the corridors to find the nearest bathroom.

"Sorry, he's a little shy...Here," You scrambled to write down his number on a random post-it and gave it to Sooyoung. Her eyes were wide as she looked from you to the door,

"Shy? Around me?" You nodded gently ignoring the weird looks you were gaining from the boys around her.

"I'll text him," She whispered as she began punching the numbers into her phone.

Hurrying after Hyunjin you stood outside the bathroom looking at him as you held your bag and his. The colour had drained from his face as he stood there. Hair messy and petals were strewn about all over the place.

"Here," You reached up to take a petal out of his hair and smiled sadly at him. The last thing you ever wanted was for Hyunjin to be in pain. You knew how badly this thing could be.

"I'll help you...She has your number," You nudged him softly and he began to blush a little as he looked at you. He was thankful he had you to help him through all of this.

"Thank you," He breathed out bringing you into a tight hug as you whined that he was hurting you.

"We can go to my dorm, I'll do your hair and we can begin planning how to get the girl to love you back." You promised him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder beginning to walk with you towards the exit of the campus.

"First things first you're going to have to talk to her without...Coughing up flowers in front of her..." Turning to look at him from the other side of your dorm room you raised an eyebrow. You didn't know the ins and outs of how it all worked so you were going to need his help with it all.

"Is there a way you can control it?" He shrugged his shoulders as he sat on the floor against your bed. There wasn't much he knew about it either. He'd never tried to control it, all he knew was when he was around her his lungs filled with rose petals until he coughed them up. Even when he thought about her too hard it could sometimes bring some flowers up.

"I'm not sure," He whispered playing with the teddy he'd gotten you for your birthday while you began writing down on a large whiteboard on your wall.

Learn to control coughing up. You were going to treat this as though it was some kind of study material. Have all of the facts laid out in front of you before you tried to find a solution to it.

"We need to learn what her favourite flowers are, what snacks she likes, then you're going to slowly woo her." Hyunjin stared up at you with a raised eyebrow. Not believing for one second that he had just heard you use the term "woo her".

"Woo her? What are we? 91?" He mumbled sarcastically only for a chocolate button to be thrown against his head. Your aim was impeccable.

"Did you or did you not want my help?" You questioned as you stared over at him. Hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side.

"Yes, Mx!" He fake saluted watching as you began to write her name, getting ready to list things she did and didn't like underneath it. Hyunjin thought back on all of the times he'd seen her getting gifts from people. Remembering the way she reacted to each of them.

"She likes sunflowers and roses together, I've seen her get them from one of the jocks before a game." He looked up at you.

"Sunflowers and roses," You mumbled as you wrote them on the board in green ink.

"We can get some from the store tomorrow morning." You told him as you turned to look at him. The thought of losing your best friend to something like this was eating you up inside but you were going to be strong for him.

The look on his face made you feel bad about teasing him earlier in the day. All he wanted to do was get help and you had been a little mean about it.

"I promise I'll do everything I can Hyunjin." You said sweetly as you walked over to the bed, sitting behind him on the bed as he sat on the floor. You ran your fingers through his hair and began to braid it. Something he found extremely relaxing whenever he was stressing too much over something.

"I don't deserve you Y/n." He hummed as you began to french-braid the sides once again before joining them together in a ponytail at the back of his head. Just as it had been that morning when he came to get it done.

"I don't know how I can repay you," He added on as he looked at your whiteboard of information. If anyone came in now it would look as though you were stalking Sooyoung but of course that wasn't what you were doing.

"With food, comics and helping me cram for tests." You told him as you smirked, patting the top of his head as you got up from the bed.

"I'll go and order some pizza...We can talk pick-up lines and dates while we eat." He nodded watching as you left the room leaving him to overthink everything. Groaning when he felt the pressure of the petals begin to build as his thoughts went to Sooyoung.

As time began to progress the only thing that seemed to be happening was Hyunjin was getting worse. It seemed as though no matter what happened with Sooyoung nothing was going to happen. The flower petals began to grow in size and he felt sick almost all of the time.

"Maybe she'll never love me back," He said to you as you sat in a small cafe together. Sharing a plate of chips as you spoke about his date with Sooyoung that he had just gotten back from. He'd taken her ice skating since it was one of her favourite things to do but nothing else happened. They held hands around the ice skating rink and that was all.

"It can take time," You reminded him, waving a chip in front of his mouth until he took it from you.

"It's been three months...I have six months to make her fall in love with me." The never-ending ticking time bomb.

"Do-able." You were trying to remain as positive about all of this as possible. You never wanted to lose your best friend.

"She has too many guys after her. There's no way I can do this Y/n." He put his head down onto the table and you reached around to run your fingers through his hair. Tears beginning to build up in your eyes at the thought of him giving up on this so easily. It wasn't like Hyunjin to just give up on anything.

"Give it a chance Hyunjin...Please." It came out as a beg but you didn't care. There was no way you were going to let your best friend give up on this and accept that some kind of disease was going to kill him. The plea didn't go unnoticed as he looked up at you, eyes bloodshot as he was on the verge of tears.

He'd been researching the surgery without telling you. Deciding that it was probably easier for him to go through that than try and force somebody into loving him. It was dangerous and irreversible.

"One more month," He mumbled sitting up and back against the booth seat. Laying his head against the wall and looking at you.

"Want to practice date talk?" You questioned. He nodded at you and you smiled before going back into your dating impersonation. The two of you had been doing this whenever you went out to eat or ate at the dorm so that he could get used to it.

"Come and sit next to me, whenever we eat together she sits beside me." You nodding sliding out of your side of the booth and into his. His arm wrapped around your waist and you seemed to freeze. A weird tightness began to grow in your chest and stomach but you ignored it. Turning to him and feeding him a chip while looking at him. Hyunjin leant down and bit into the chip slowly. It was the first thing he'd eaten all day and he was thankful you were with him to eat with.

"Talk to me as if I was Sooyoung," You grumbled at him as you looked down at the plate. Suddenly losing all sense of appetite the longer you stared at it.

One month came and went as though it was on fast-forward. You barely remembered anything that Hyunjin had planned for his time with Sooyoung. All you knew was that he was giving up. Telling you that all of this had been a waste of time for him.

"Hyunjin you can't do this," Your voice heightened as you looked at him. Reaching your hands out to touch him as he began packing up clothes into his bag. The moment he told you that he was going through with the surgery you panicked. There were so many horror stories surrounding the procedure.

"I've already booked it," He mumbled at you, moving away from your grasp to collect more clothes from his wardrobe.

The two of you were in his dorm room that night when he decided to drop the bomb on you that he was going to have the surgery.

"It's experimental! Something could go wrong," You whimpered as you stood in front of his wardrobe. Blocking him from getting inside. There was no way you were going to let him go through with something so idiotic that could kill him or leave him with no memories.

"It's worth it to not feel like this! To not die!" He yelled at you as you moved out of the way. Watching him as he began to shove clothes into a bag instead of folding them. There was no way you were going to be able to change his mind but you were going to try.

"So you're just going to leave? What about exams?" You questioned as you tried not to bring the focus on why you needed him to stay around.

"I don't see a reason for staying, I'll get the surgery and be back in time for exams." He grumbled not looking at you as he reached into the back of his wardrobe for shoes.

"Hyunjin you have five months-"

"She's in love with someone else! She's dating someone else so there is no help for me. Don't you get that!?" He yelled as he cut you off. Turning to face you, he was red in the fact of anger and his eyes were tearing up.

Pushing past you he walked towards his bed, putting his bag down as he began to pack his study material up. If he was going to be stuck in a hospital he might as well make the time useful.

"You think that you're the only person in the world that has that disease?!" You yelled back at him. Not meaning to snap and sound as angry as you did but you had enough.

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for the flowers to kill me." He grumbled keeping his back to you.

"I'm not saying that! I'm saying give it time...M-maybe you'll fall in love with someone else." You were grasping at straws and he knew that as well as you did.

"You sound pathetic. There is no one else Y/n. There will never be someone else." He said in hushed tones as he flicked through some of his notebooks. Debating to take them with him or not.

"Never?"

"No. Never," He mumbled at you.

"But I love you," Your chest swelled and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat as you finally told him.

The months you had been helping him with Sooyoung you had begun to fall more and more in love with him. The fake dates you would have didn't help as you only fell harder for someone you knew would never like you back.

"Yeah but friendship love isn't enough to cure it!" He yelled slamming his book down onto his desk. Taking in deep breathes as he tried to calm himself down. He knew you were trying to help but nothing you had done was working.

"You asked for my help-"

"Now I'm telling you to back off." He came across so cold you felt as though ice began to run down your back. Your chest burnt as you put off the cough that was itching to come out. Holding your hand over your mouth you let out a tiny cough. Wincing as you felt the petals fall down into your hands. Three white-budding roses sitting in your hand, large enough that you knew you didn't have much time left. Hyunjin didn't even notice you coughing as he rushed to put everything away into a bag.

"Call me when you've decided to get over this." You mumbled as you left his room. Dropping the petals into the bin by his front door before you left.

As Hyunjin was about to leave the dorms he went to through away his rubbish when he saw the flowers. They weren't his since his seemed to be a little more than two petals at the moment. These looked as though they were just beginning to grow larger. None of the boys was home which only meant that they could have been yours,.

"Y/n." He breathed out as he looked at his phone. Hitting your name to call you but there was no answer. It just rang and rang.

You stared at the phone while it lit up. There was no use talking to him when he was going to go through with the surgery no matter what.

"Call me when you get this, I need to talk to you." The message rang out as you deleted it. Walking to the kitchen to get something to eat but nothing seemed good to you. Everything you thought about eating made your stomach churn. Nothing had seemed appealing to you for months.

After a few days of staying in your dorm and ignoring Hyunjin, you began to feel the need for fresh air. There was no use in hauling yourself up inside of the dorms all day. You had no idea how much time you had left so you needed to do something with it.

Swinging the door open you almost screamed seeing Hyunjin standing. His hand raised as if he was about to knock on the door right before you answered it.

"Did you get the surgery?" You questioned harshly as he stared at you. His eyes fixed on your face as he said nothing in response to you.

"Hyunjin?" Instead of responding he grabbed you close to him and kissed you roughly. The breath felt as though it was knocked right out of your chest as you collided with him. Your hands pushing into his long hair as he pushed you into the apartment. Holding you close to him as he ran his fingers up and down your back. Needing to feel every inch of you as close to him as possible. Tears rolled down your cheeks until you both could taste them.

"H-Hyunjin." You breathed out as you both pulled away only to rest your foreheads on one another. Neither of you wanted to be apart for any longer than you had to be.

"I love you," He breathed out as he held your hand in his, squeezing them softly.

"I love you too," You hiccuped through the tears, sniffling as little as he pulled you into his chest. Resting his chin on your head as you both stood there together.

Another month passed both of you scared that the flowers would begin to come up again but they hadn't. Not once had you coughed up a petal, bud or a whole flower. Your appetite had come back and Hyunjin was feeling better than he ever had. The two of you had beaten the Unrequited love and overcoming everything to be with one another.

Tagline: @minholuvs @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix

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pink-bear · 3 years

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NSFW Alphabet: Kazuichi Soda

Pink lemonade boy~

Stuff under the cut. Character is depicted as 18+

THIS IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

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

When he’s giving it, he always makes sure his partner has water, a snack if they request it, and plenty of kisses and praise. When he’s receiving it, he lowkey loves being pampered, it makes him feel appreciated :’)

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

When it comes to himself, he likes his hands. He’s good at using them, and learning to use them on his partner is one of the things he perfects first.

As for his partner, he’s a butt guy for sure. Perfect for grabbing and spanking! He also very much enjoys boobs, but it’s not a requirement!

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

He cums a basic amount, and likes doing so inside his partner any chance he gets (whether it’s in their mouth or their downstairs area).

He also lowkey likes the taste of his own cum, and often times lick it off himself after he’s jerked off.

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

Loves smelling his partner’s undies, especially when they’re away for whatever reason. He’ll sometimes even wear them and masturbate in them, too. Dirty boy...

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

He’s super inexperienced. A number of factors went into him not losing his virginity as a teen (his social awkwardness, his anxiety, the fact he wasn’t very popular, ect.). Pretty much all the stuff he knows is from porn, and actually executing that is awkward to say the least-

BUT HOPE IS NOT LOST! Like anything in this world, the more you practice, the better you get! Once he finds an understanding and patient partner, he’ll learn the ins and outs of being a good lover, and he’ll get the hang of it in no time!

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Gives him access to his partner’s butt, and he loves leaning over and leaving bite marks with them sharp chompers of his. He also likes how deep he/his partner can get, and how he/his partner can reach around and pleasure whoever bottoms as well!

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

Some silliness can really help settle his nerves, especially his first few times. For sure he likes it when things are passionate, but having a little bit of goofy sprinkled in, especially afterwards, can really make the whole experience that much better. If he can both satisfy and make his partner giggle, then he’s on cloud nine!

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

His manscaping could be...better, but it’s nothing unbearable. Often times he just forgets to do it (this guy forgets to shower a lot too, pls be patient with him). If he has a date coming up, or his partner asks him to, he’ll trim things up a bit, but he never likes being completely bare.

And no, the carpet doesn’t match the drapes. Its black like his natural hair colour! Though he has thought about dying it too...

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

His attempts at being romantic can sometimes be a bit corny, but the passion is totally there. He’s not the best with words, but he’ll go on and on (and on and on) about how special his partner is when he’s truly found the one.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This poor guy jacks off A LOT. Being as sexually frustrated as he is, it’s not uncommon for him to crank one out daily. Once he finds a regular sexual partner it goes down, but sometimes he just can’t wait!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sexy car washes. Skimpy clothing, getting all wet and bodies being pressed against the hood of a nice car? Oh man, he’ll cream his pants in seconds.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He loves doing it in his workshop, and probably has an old couch there for that very reason (though he’ll say it’s for relaxing/napping to anyone who asks).

Apart from that, you can’t go wrong with the bedroom! Especially if the bed is real comfortable~

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

Seeing his partner absolutely desperate for some fuck. Talk dirty to him, whisper in his ear, tease him, and he’s READY TO GO!

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

Anything unsanitary (pee, poop, ect.), of course. He also doesn’t really like being tied up, since it causes his anxiety to spike when he isn’t able to move his hands.

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

He prefers receiving oral, especially after a hard day’s work. He’ll happily return the favour, but it may take him a bit of practice to get good at it. Good thing he’s an eager learner! Just be careful with those teeth-

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

Depends on how he’s feeling. Sometimes when he’s real horny, he gets down to the nitty gritty. However, when he’s feeling a bit vulnerable, or he had a nice, peaceful day with his partner, he will for sure show his appreciation by being sensual and sweet.

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

This man lives for quickies. A good stress reliever, and a good way to spend a break from work!

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

He love the idea of getting caught, but not so much actually running the risk of it. He prefers to do things in “private public places”. As in places that would normally be populated, but at certain times of the day are vacant with no actual risk. For example: His workshop after closing.

Actually getting caught makes him want to cry :’)

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

His stamina is kinda low, ngl. He can last a few minutes, maybe around ten at the most. He makes up for it however by the amount of rounds he can go, especially spaced throughout the day.

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

Soda loves toys! Vibrators are his favourite, especially using them on his partners. He also has a few sizes of dildos and butt plugs, fleshlights and some nipple clamps too!

He’s thought about making his own toys, but maybe that isn’t the best idea...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Soda likes to tease, with that shit eating grin we all love so much. When it comes to his partners teasing him, however, he’s a total baby lol

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

This boy is LOUD. Oh my lord, lots of moaning, groaning, whimpering and begging. And when he bottoms...honey, you got another storm comin’

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

Soda wears a tank top and boxers under his jumpsuit. It gets pretty hot in that thing, so he doesn’t want too many layers.

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

His dick is uncut and pretty average in both length and width. He’s rather self conscious of it, seeing how the media portrays big dicks as the most desirable. Sometimes he even thinks of getting a piercing to “add a little something extra to it”, but is too chicken to actually go through with it. Eventually he learns it’s not the size of the boat that matters, but the motion of the ocean 🌊

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

Soda’s unbelievably thirsty, it’s on his mind a lot, to a point it’ll sometimes get in the way of work. So once he gets a sexual partner, the first few months he’s gonna be pretty damn desperate for some fucc. He settles down eventually, but he can still get in the mood pretty easily, and will very rarely turn down an offer.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once the sexy times are over, he’s out like a light. With the combination of his job, his anxiety and the strenuous task of love making, it really tires the poor guy out.

🌸🌸🌸

And there you have it! My first post on here WHOO!

Hope you enjoyed! And if you don’t agree with any of these, that’s fine! These are just my personal headcanons!

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#smut #danganronpa smut #kazuichi souda #headcanons #lemon #danganronpa lemon #do not tag as kin

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snackhobi · 4 years

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pairing: namjoon x reader / word count: 9.3k / genre: pwp/smut

summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand.

warnings: sexually explicit content, masturbation, edging (kinda), unintentional voyeurism (briefly), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), bigdick!joon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (reader gets fucked dumb), praise, aftercare (please heed the warnings, and let me know if I need to clarify/add any!)

For most people, Sunday is a day of rest. But not for you.

Sunday means chores. Sunday means tidying up, dusting, vacuuming. Sunday means finally doing all the Adult Things you’ve been too busy/lazy to do for the rest of the week (or even longer than that, as evidenced by your overflowing laundry basket). Sunday means work.

You slap at your vibrating phone, fingers sliding uselessly across the screen as you fumble to cut off the chirping alarm, and then you groan. “Ugh." You bury your head into your crumpled pillow. And then, once more, with feeling: “Uggggggh.”

You roll around in your bed, thrashing a little like a child having a tantrum, before you flop on your back and stare at your ceiling with your limbs akimbo, a starfish.

“Why?” You whine out to no one in particular. “Why me?”

Fortunately you live alone, so there’s no one to witness your sulky behaviour. You would put off getting all your errands done, but you’ve already been doing this for so long that you’re practically out of clean clothes to wear. That’s one part about living alone that’s a double-edged sword- you have your own space where you can act however you please, which is Great, but also you’re the only one responsible for keeping on top of things, which is Less Great. You can’t rely on other people to get things done for you.

You’ve never been a morning person, and the fact it’s so nice outside already does nothing to brighten your mood; it’s the perfect kind of day, the chilled bite to the air mellowed by the sun in the cloudless, pale sky, and you’re going to have to spend it indoors. Ugh. You eventually grit your teeth and pull yourself out of bed, waking yourself up with a cold shower. Once you force a cup of overly sweet coffee into your system and the caffeine hits you so that you’re fully awake and ready to go, the world suddenly feels a lot more bearable. So you’re unperturbed when your underwear drawer comes up practically empty.

“Oops,” you say. “Oh well.”

It’s practically empty, but not entirely; there, at the back, there’s that pretty lingerie set you’d bought on a whim in a sale and then promptly never worn. Honestly you’d be happy to go without, seeing as no one else is here and you have no one to look pretty for, but you find that you never get anything done if you’re not in a bra. It’s like a Pavlovian response that you've ingrained into yourself: when you get home, your bra comes straight off, no ifs, buts, or maybes. Bra off means it’s Relaxation Time. Bra on? That means it's time to get things done.

But, yeah, if you’re going to wear the bra, you may as well wear the matching thong, right? It came as a set so you’d basically be committing a crime if you didn’t wear them together. You take one moment to admire yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that to appreciate how it makes you look, before promptly ruining the illusion of sexiness by covering it up with a pair of old sweatpants and a too-large tank top. They're the only bits of clothing not in your laundry basket that you don't mind getting dirty while you clean, so, you have to make do.

The worst part about doing chores is getting the whole process started, but you’ve been doing this long enough that you have a routine. Bra on, hair up, mental checklist ready. You toddle through to the kitchen with your laundry basket, picking through for the colours and whites, feeling entirely too accomplished once you get the first load sorted. This kickstarts the whole chore procedure and once you get stuck in, you actually start to have fun; you’ve got your noise cancelling headphones on and your cleaning playlist is full of songs that get you pumped up, and you sing along to the music as you get started on your next job.

You wiggle your butt to the rhythm of the beat while you hoover, pushing your vacuum into the corners of your flat and ruthlessly sucking up the dust bunnies that have gathered there. You're in the middle of belting out one particularly long note when a spider scuttles out from under your sofa and the note rises into a little scream; you act on pure instinct and suck the spider up into the hoover, watching as all the long hairy legs fold together and get schlorped into the vacuum’s nozzle before disappearing forever. You feel immediately relieved but also immensely guilty when this happens- spiders are awful and you hate them but usually you’d try your best to catch them under a cup before flinging it outside, so the fact you’ve maybe just killed it? You really are just awful. (But thank God it’s gone.)

Maybe that's enough hoovering for now.

You empty the dust bag into the bin, mindful of the fact that the spider might still be alive and come crawling out onto your hands. Thankfully it doesn’t, but you’re not going to take any chances; you draw the bin liner shut and tie it tight, before deciding that the best course of action is to put it into your outside bin, in case the spider decides to come back with a vengeance.

You hoist the bag up and pause for a second to glance down at how the straps of your too-loose top have slipped down your shoulders to reveal the top of bra, the intricate lace trim of the cups and extra straps that criss cross your chest- definitely an, uh, interesting outfit choice for a quick trip out of your flat. You make the executive decision to shrug on a hoodie and zip it all the way to your neck to preserve your modesty and save you from the chill outside. Once that’s done it takes two seconds to slip your feet into your (fake) Converse shoes, another few seconds to fiddle with the lock on your door, struggling with the latch- it’s been a bit janky for a while and you keep forgetting to sort it out- before you hop your way downstairs and to the outside shed where everyone's bins are stored.

Ewch. It doesn’t smell that great in here. You make quick work of dumping your rubbish and escaping from the hut, shutting the door firmly behind you to try and keep the stench locked inside, before almost falling over when you feel the telltale sensation of a cat curling around your ankles. He’s meowing up at you but your headphones have been drowning him out, so you slide them off your ears and hook them around your neck so you can actually hear him.

"Oh, hi, baby!" The ginger stray likes to hang nearby the building, always friendly and happy to see you, even if he seems to like sneaking up when you least expect it. He meows at you again as you squat down to stroke him, butting his head into your palm as his tail curls in delight. "Aren't you just the most gorgeous boy? Yes, you are, aren't you?"

The cat ends up putting his paws onto your knee to butt his face against yours, and the next thing you know, you have an armful of cat. You laugh and continue to pet him, cooing at how cute he is as he purrs back. "Awh, baby, you're so sweet," you say. "I wish I could take you home, but my meanie landlord says we can't have pets."

“I was thinking of starting a petition, actually, so the landlord gets rid of the No Pets clause in the tenancy agreement. You’re welcome to sign it if you like.”

You glance up from where you’ve been allowing the cat to shove his nose against your chin, standing up straight to address the man who’s talking to you, cat still clutched in your arms. “Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. That’s such a good idea, I love that. Stick it to the man. I’d definitely sign it. How are you today?”

Kim Namjoon, aka your neighbour from across the hall, is smiling at the cat in your arms. Namjoon’s the perfect neighbour and ideal tenant- quiet, tidy, considerate, although he does have a tendency to lose his keys and gets locked out of his flat on a pretty regular basis.

It’s actually how you’d started to talk in the first place. When you first moved in you’d given him a small box of chocolates to endear yourself to your same-floor-friend, only exchanging small nods and pleasant greetings for a while after that, but after you’d found Namjoon waiting sheepishly on his own doorstep- “My friend has a key but it’s going to take him a little while to get here,” he’d explained- you’d invited him into your own flat to wait, rather than just in the hall.

Since then you’ve started to have chats whenever you see each other, and occasionally knock on each other’s doors whenever you ask to borrow things like sugar or a screwdriver or whatever, and you always invite Namjoon in for a cup of tea when he’s waiting for one of his friends to rescue him from his own forgetful nature. You’re still toeing the line between Friendly Neighbours and Kind Of Friends, but one thing you already know and admire about Namjoon is his ability to actually be a mature and put together adult. Sure, you drink a decent amount of water, you have a skincare routine with multiple steps, and you usually manage to eat your 5-a-day, but a lot of that feels like you do it because you’re expected to, sort of like a child playing make-believe.

Namjoon, meanwhile, manages to just ooze the sort of gravitas that comes with being a fully realised human being, someone who actively participates in the world around them because they’re entirely engaged with things and basically just Super Mature Adult (even if he apparently loses/breaks things on a fairly regular basis). Hence why you’re not at all surprised at the petition thing, or when Namjoon proceeds to tell you that he’s going to spend the afternoon at his friend’s uncle’s strawberry farm, picking fruit, because of course Namjoon is the kind of guy who supports local, organic, free range produce. (Wait. Can strawberries be free range? Or is that just eggs?)

“Ahh, I love strawberries! That’s so cool,” you say. “It must be fun.”

“You’re welcome to come, if you like,” Namjoon says. He’s always gracious so you know he’s just saying this to be polite, but you can’t help but think it would probably be really nice to spend time picking fruit and talking with him.

“Ah, I’d love to, but unfortunately I have prior commitments. I’m catching up on chores,” you admit ruefully. You’re still absently scritching the ginger cat’s chin as you speak, the animal purring up a storm in your arms and shedding all over your clothes, although you don’t notice or care. Namjoon is incredibly endeared- not that you notice that, either. “Hence the runway-ready outfit.”

Your hair is so messy it looks like some sort of wild possum has been nesting in it, your hoodie sleeves are so long they threaten to swallow your hands, and you’re not even wearing your cheap knock-off shoes properly- you’re stepping on the back collar of them in your bare feet so they’re basically glorified flip-flops at this point. Total fashionista. (Not.)

Namjoon, however, seems surprised at your dismissive tone. “You look cute and cozy,” he says.

You snort in an unladylike way, lifting the cat in your arms a little- you can’t gesture properly with an armful of fur, especially when the stray takes this as an invitation to crane upwards and shove his little face into the crook of your neck, knocking against your headphones. “Cute baby,” you coo at the cat, before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “You look cute and cozy,” you echo. It’s a little chilly today and Namjoon’s wrapped up, long scarf curled around his neck, beanie on his head, hem of his coat fluttering around his thighs. Super cozy, and again, a well-put-together adult.

You muffle a sigh. He’s a well-put-together and hot adult, tall and built, so handsome in his casual outfit, effortlessly masculine. You’ve been lowkey crushing on Namjoon for a while now, as futile as that effort is- you haven’t seen any evidence of a special someone in Namjoon’s life, but there’s no way that man is single. Even if he somehow is, he’s like, a bajillion light years out of your league, hyper intelligent and kind and gorgeous, in comparison to your… um… your… well. Yeah. In comparison to that.

He’s nice to you and he smiles whenever he sees you, though, and your weak little heart can’t help but flip flop in your chest whenever you see that dimpled little smile, even if you know you don’t have a chance in hell that he really thinks that you’re cute. He’s just being polite.

The cat in your arms gives a little wriggle, apparently sated for the day, and you carefully squat down to deposit him onto the ground. He gives you both one last little mewl before scampering off and you fondly watch him go. “Let me know when you have that petition written up,” you say, brushing the cat hairs off your sleeves. “I better get back to my flat, I need to finish the rest of my laundry so I can continue the facade of being a functional adult. Have a great day, Namjoon-ssi, and I hope you enjoy the strawberries! You’ll have to tell me how they are.”

“I will,” he says, eyes warm as he smiles, those little dimples appearing in his cheeks. Ugh, you want to touch them so much. “Good luck with your laundry.”

Namjoon’s beautiful smile fuels you for the rest of the day, buoying you up as you scrub the walls of your shower and bleach your toilet, bright yellow gloves a size too large for your hands as you spritz your bathroom counter. You might not be a legitimate adult in the same way that your neighbour is but you can give it a damn good go; even if the rest of your life is maybe a bit more chaotic than you’d like, you can at least get your surroundings in order.

And you do. By the time you’re finished with hoovering and mopping your floors and reorganising your clutter, your flat feels brand-spanking new again, fresh and clean and airy. You’d even lit a few scented candles earlier and you give yourself a pat on the back for your forward thinking as you snuff them out, the delicate smell of vanilla lightly filling the apartment. All that’s left is to go to the kitchen and put the final load of laundry in the tumble dryer and once that’s been emptied and sorted, you’re all finished. Mission accomplished. Chores done.

Once the tumble dryer has started its cycle you reward yourself with a cup of tea, a blackcurrant and blueberry fruit infusion that you’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at work and hadn’t used yet, saving it for a special occasion. You hum to yourself and continue to wiggle your hips to the music trickling out of your headphones as the kettle boils, watching the purple that bleeds from the tea bag once the hot water cascades over it. It looks rich and vibrant and it smells so good- but then you make a little face when you take a sip. Fruit teas never taste as good as they smell. It’s not bad but it’s a little disappointing, really, a subpar reward after a hard day of work.

You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your mug still in your hand, eyes unfocused as you stare into space, trying to think of things in your flat that you could use to reward yourself. You’ve already used up those fancy gel eye masks that Jimin had given you for your birthday, and you’d let Jungkook have your sheet masks when he’d said his favourite brand was out of stock; Taehyung had pilfered all of your bath bombs as part of an experiment (the experiment being that he wanted to know what colour his bath water would turn if he used all your different bath bombs in it- the answer was ‘an incredibly underwhelming, if glittery, sludge brown’), and he still hasn’t gotten around to replacing them.

Pay day isn’t until next week and you’re tight enough on money at the moment that you don’t want to order out for dinner- living alone means you have to pay more rent so you have to be more careful with money- so you’re out of ideas.

That is until motion out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You glance over at it, pulled out of your reverie; the old tumble dryer has been in this flat longer than you and it’s showing signs of wear and tear, base warped a little from age, noisy and wobbly as your clothes are being spun inside. You pause, mug dropping a little in your hand as the thought briefly flickers through your mind, before you bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. Fuck it. You live alone and you’ve had a long day and you deserve some kind of reward.

You abandon your unfinished mug of tea in the sink before eyeing the shaking tumble dryer. You hoist yourself up, straddling the corner of the machine, a little shiver running through you when you feel the vibrations through your legs and thighs as you settle into place; it takes time to situate yourself, thighs spreading as you tilt your hips forward and press your heat against the rumbling dryer. You shift on your hands, palms braced against the top of the machine as you wriggle into the best position- the second you get just the right angle you let out a little gasp, eyes squeezing shut when you feel how the shaking machine is sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

You keep your eyes shut as you continue to find the right rhythm. You rock your hips forward each time the machine rocks back, rolling the weight of your body down towards your clenching cunt; the vibrations are so strong that you can feel them through your sweatpants, lace of your thong rubbing against your clit in a deliciously rough way, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through you.

As you continue to work yourself up, your skin starts to feel overheated under your clothes, even with the chill spring air seeping into the flat- you fumble with the zip of hoodie, letting the material sag open before you brace yourself with your palms again. You feel how the hoodie slips down your arms, baring your shoulders, and you tilt your head back, revealing the line of your neck as you arch your spine. Each rumble of the machine rolls through you, wetness starting to slicken your folds as you grind down a little harder. It’s a steady, slow climb towards your peak- you shut your eyes to focus fully on the pleasure building between your legs, the way your clit feels swollen and almost over-sensitive from the strong vibrations from the dryer, the way your pussy clenches whenever you get the angle just right.

You start to gasp, biting back moans when you feel how your orgasm is getting closer. You lift one hand from the top of the dryer to run your hands over your skin- your neck, your throat, tracing over the straps of the bra that are digging into the swell of your breasts. It’s good, really good, but it’s not enough; every time you feel like the peak of your orgasm is about to crest, it ebbs away again, and you let out a little whine from the back of your throat.

With your eyes still shut, you try to conjure up images that’ll arouse you and send you tumbling over the edge. Hands on your body, lips against your skin, your mouth. Normally when you masturbate you try to keep away from thinking about anyone in particular, because you feel like if you see that person in the future they’ll just telepathically know about it and you end up feeling awkward and guilty (even if you know it's illogical)- but today you can’t help it. Your mind slips to the thought of Namjoon this morning and the way he’d smiled at you, and once you start thinking about Namjoon, you can’t stop.

Namjoon’s smile. His mouth. His tongue. His hands, his fingers. His tall, beautiful body, pressing you down against a mattress, trapping you against him. You take the hand that’s been trailing over your collarbones and lift it to your mouth and press two fingers past your lips, trying to imagine that it’s Namjoon. Imagine that it’s the weight of his cock on your tongue, hard and heavy. You bet it’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. You bet he tastes so good, hot and salt and maybe a little bitter, heady and masculine; you let out a low moan around your lips as you run the pads of your fingertips over your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth.

All the while, your music has been playing on, heavy beat thrumming through you as you forget the outside world and focus on the reality you’re conjuring in your mind. Namjoon’s cock in your mouth. Namjoon’s mouth on your cunt. Namjoon’s skin against yours. Namjoon fucking into you, hard and deep. Your blood rises in your veins, toes curling as you can feel how your orgasm is getting ever closer now that you’re this turned on, your cunt leaking with arousal; the thought of Namjoon wanting you as much as you want him is dizzying, as unlikely as it is. The Namjoon in your mind fucks into you with a particularly rough thrust and in the real world you respond with a moan, garbled around the fingers between your lips. Fuck, you’re so close.

Just as you're nearly there, your playlist ends and everything lapses into silence, your reverie shattered. The moment is gone. Your orgasm slips away from you again and you whimper, unintentionally edging yourself yet again.

Your eyes flutter open briefly when your haze is broken, although you squeeze them back shut so that you can get back to picturing Namjoon and finally bring yourself to completion- but then your eyes fly open again, fingers stuttering in your mouth and hips going still as your entire body stiffens, blood turning to ice in your veins.

The very real Kim Namjoon is standing in the doorway of your kitchen. There’s a look of utter shock on his face, his lips parted, eyes so wide it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop out of his skull, frozen in place. You don’t know how long he’s been there. You don’t know if he’s just walked in on you. Really, though, it doesn’t matter if he’s been there for five seconds or five hours- he’s seen everything, the way there’s saliva dripping from your mouth around your fingers, tank top barely hiding your lingerie, the way you’ve been bucking your hips against the dryer. Utterly desperate and debauched and depraved.

There’s a small, white plastic bag in Namjoon’s hands with a pretty strawberry logo on it, drooping further and further towards the floor as his arms go slack. You don’t notice it until it’s slipping loose from his fingers and landing on the floor.

Berries go rolling out of the sagged plastic and across the tiles but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice. That single point of motion in the room seems to kickstart your brain into gear, your flight or fight response screaming flight, and you practically throw yourself off the tumble dryer. Your brain is entirely empty of logical thought right now and the only thing you can think of is that you need to get away and hide forever.

You rush past a still frozen Namjoon, stumbling down your hallway towards your open front door- you notice that the latch is stuck, not clicking into place when you’d come back inside earlier and leaving the door unlocked, you idiot. Namjoon always knocks and it must have swung open as soon as he rapped his knuckles against it, and you wouldn’t have heard it over your goddamn music. You absolute, utter idiot.

You’re not thinking about how illogical it is to flee from your own home to get away from someone. You’re just thinking about your escape. Taehyung’s flat is the nearest and it won’t take long to run there and you can survive without shoes; you’re still barefoot but you don’t have time to grab anything. You have to run.

You’re just stretching out for the door when you feel large hands grab you from behind. You flail, door swinging shut as your fingers brush against it before you’re being pulled backwards by the arms that have slid around your waist. You start to struggle, squirming in the hold, pushing at the hands trapping you as you instinctively still try to get away from the shame and embarrassment; Namjoon’s body is warm and solid against your back, his muscles effectively trapping you in place, and you can feel how his voice rumbles through him as he speaks, audible through the silence of your headphones.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never heard Kim Namjoon sound like this. His voice is authoritative, commanding. The part of your brain that acts on pure instinct- the part that just told you to go hurtling out onto the street without shoes- responds instantly, and you immediately go lax in his hold even though you’re still internally panicking.

“I was planning on going to the moon,” you say, unable to cover up how your voice is shaking, even if you’re trying to hide behind sarcasm. It’s your only defence right now. Your skin prickles with embarrassment. “Where else do you think?”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle, and your toes curl at how deep the sound is. “The mouth on you.” He sounds amused. You can’t look him in the eye. “Were you trying to get away from me?”

“‘Trying’ is the operative word.” You’re still staring resolutely at the door- it’s swung shut and the latch has actually clicked upwards this time. Traitor. “As you can tell, I’m not doing a very good job. The sooner I go, the sooner I get the paperwork started for my move to Fiji.”

“I thought you were planning on going to the moon.” Namjoon’s hold on you is still firm. You’re utterly helpless. “Changed your mind?”

“Going to open a diner in Fiji to raise funds for my moon mission. It’s a long plan.” The spike of adrenaline that had burst through you is already dissolving in your system, leaving you feeling limp and strung out. You can’t see Namjoon’s face with how your back is crushed against his chest; when you glance down all you can see is how big his hands are against your stomach. Despite yourself, you shiver. As panicked and embarrassed as you are, arousal is still trickling through you, and you hate yourself for the effect that Namjoon is having on you right now. You try to sound calm and unaffected as you continue to speak, but you feel breathless from the lingering pleasure tingling between your legs. “Can you let me go now, please?”

“Is that really what you want?” You’ve had your hands on his wrists from how you’d been trying to push them away, so you feel how one of Namjoon’s hands starts to slide downwards, slow as treacle, and your breath hitches as his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweatpants. They don’t go any further than that, palm splayed over your hipbone, but you feel your pussy clench at the warmth of his hands on your skin and a whimper slips out of you. “Or do you actually want something else?”

Your fingers dig into his wrists. When you open your mouth to reply, your words fail you and instead you just let out a little breath. You’re in utter disbelief at what’s happening right now, unsure of what’s going on- you’re not an idiot but there is no way that Namjoon is implying what you think he’s implying. Absolutely no way. Not a chance in hell. What?

As you continue to stay silent, brain trying to catch up with the situation, Namjoon doesn’t move.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs. “I need to know that you want this.”

Oh, fuck. When Namjoon calls you baby it feels like a switch has been flipped inside you; like he’s slipped a missing fuse into place and your entire body has lit up, full of energy and electricity from his touch. It’s overwhelming. “Of course I want this,” you confirm, trembling, and then: “I want you.”

Namjoon responds by finally moving his hand downwards. You watch as it goes, how he pauses when he makes contact with the fabric of your underwear, the unmistakable texture of embroidered lace under his touch. He drags his fingertips across the straps that cross over themselves, an arrow guiding him to his mark; your entire body goes tense when his fingers glance over your swollen folds, slick through the fabric.

You gasp. You’re still trapped against him by the strong arm curled around you, but your hands are free- you pull your headphones off and let them fall to the floor, twisting your head around so you can finally look at Namjoon’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark. He looks nothing like the cute and clumsy man who waves you good morning every day; he looks like some hungry animal, a predator who’s been waiting for the right time to swallow his prey whole.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. He gives you a small smile that’s more of a smirk, utterly at odds to his usual dimpled beams.

“You don’t have to settle for an old tumble dryer, gorgeous.” He kisses the bare skin of your shoulder, right next to where your bra strap is resting, eyes locked on yours. His lips are so soft and you shiver. “Let me help you.”

“I’ll have you know that tumble dryer was very close to getting me off, actually.” You’re so turned on right now but you can’t help the words slipping out; a lifetime of snark doesn’t leave you the second you start feeling horny. “So it’s less you helping me, and more you giving me something you owe me, seeing as you took it away in the first place.”

Namjoon’s silent for a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far- if you’ve run your mouth too much- when he hums. “Ah,” he says. “That’s true. You’re right.”

“Huh?” You say eloquently, surprised, but then he takes the hand out of your sweatpants and you whine. “Hey, put that back, you’re not done yet.”

Namjoon lets out a little chuckle. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. “But I want to see this pretty lingerie properly. You’re all covered up and that just won’t do.”

He punctuates this statement by taking both of his hands to your hoodie, where it’s been caught at your elbows, and sliding it off you. He drags his large palms down your arms as he does this, cool against your overheated skin; goosebumps appear in the wake of his touch and you shiver again. You have no idea what's going on right now. Everything feels like some sort of fever dream but you're not about to start complaining.

“If you’re about to see me in my unmentionables I’d least like a kiss first,” you say, pout audible in your voice. The truth is you’ve thought about Namjoon’s plush lips more often than you’d like to admit, how beautiful his mouth is, and it’s got to be illegal for Namjoon to have been touching you for as long as he has without letting you have at least one taste of his kisses. “Please?”

“Turn around, baby.” You instantly comply, all but throwing your arms around his neck as you look at him with an innocent, bambi gaze; he still has that half-lidded set to his eyes but you can see how that ravenous hunger is softened by his smile. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you say. You might sound like the protagonist to some cheesy romance film right now but the truth is that you’re still aware of the heat between your legs, the ebbed arousal that’s still coiling low in your stomach, and as much as you want to kiss Namjoon, you want to cum, too. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-”

Namjoon kisses you. He cuts you off mid sentence by slotting his mouth against yours, open around the word he swallows, and he immediately presses his tongue past your lips; you yield to him, letting him press his lips to your cupid’s bow as you lick his lower lip, soft and full. Just as good as you thought. No- better. His hands stay steady around your waist, but yours keep moving as you keep kissing- his shoulders, his nape, his hair, his jaw. Every part of him is so warm and solid against you and you just can’t get enough.

You slant your head to get deeper, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a way that borders on lewd, rubbing against each other as you trade saliva, your mouth full of the taste of Namjoon. You swear there’s a lingering taste of strawberries. You feel better, a little more in control now that you know Namjoon will indulge you even if you’re being a brat, and you can finally chase the thing that got this whole sequence of events started.

“I wanna cum, Namjoon,” you murmur against his lips once you finally part, breathless from his kisses. “Will you help me cum? Please? Pretty please?”

Namjoon’s lip curls back from his teeth in a silent growl, and a shudder runs through you at the sight; seeing your usually composed neighbour act like this because of you is a heady sensation. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he says, and your pussy throbs with need at his words.

“Jesus Christ, Namjoon.” Your eyes are wild. “I want you to fucking wreck me.”

You get no warning before Namjoon is literally sweeping you off your feet and you squeal in surprise when you feel them leave the ground, but Namjoon’s grip on you is steady as he lifts you in a bridal hold. You feel breathless at this physical representation of his strength- you’ve only seen his bare arms once (that had been a nice morning) before but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about how thick they are, as evidenced by the way he’s carrying you.

Normally you’d probably be chewing him out for lifting you without warning, but right now there’s a very base, animalistic part of you that goes belly up at the very obvious reminder of Namjoon’s superior power. The instinctual part of you that had initially told you to run away from him now seems entirely content with the fact you’ve been caught, and so you stay quiet in his arms. You cling tight to him as he walks to your bedroom without the need for directions, your flat the mirrored twin to his; you keep kissing his neck as he nudges the door open with his foot, running a hand down his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

He’s so fucking hot, what the fuck.

He’s hot, and strong, but gentle, too. When Namjoon sets you down he’s so careful even though he could easily manhandle you in any way he wanted, and you give him a kiss as a thank you. It’s a brief moment of quiet, that little kiss, but then Namjoon is pulling you back towards him and his hands are all over as he helps you strip; Namjoon’s eyes are heavy on your body as he drinks you in, finally wearing nothing but the lingerie he’s been so desperate to look at.

He sees the way the interweaving straps rest against your skin with the perfect amount of pressure, little swells letting him know that he’ll be able to trace the touch of lace on your body even after he’s ripped it off you. The lace cups of your bra do nothing to hide how your nipples are standing to attention, begging to be touched. But the most eye-catching thing, the thing that Namjoon can’t stop looking at, is how sodden the lace between your legs is; your inner thighs are slick with your arousal, shining, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“Look at you. So gorgeous,” Namjoon says. “Gonna make you cum over and over, baby.”

His hands feel so good against your skin as he skims his fingers over your panties, but he doesn’t take them off, and you let out a needy little noise. “Please,” you whine. “I need to cum, Joonie, been waiting so long.”

Namjoon watches as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra and reaches for your hands, stopping your motions. You blink up at him, confused, but then he’s turning you towards the bed and bending you over it, motions firm and undeniable; not that you would try to defy him, anyway. You brace your palms against the mattress and instantly arch your spine so that your ass is pushed out, enticing as possible.

You’re wondering if you’re going to have to beg for Namjoon to touch you but it seems what little patience he had has run out; his warm palms are immediately against your ass, touch reverent as he slides his hands over your skin, and you press back into that touch, wanting more of it. His hands skim up your sides and his fingers dance along the edge of your bra before reaching for the hooks, unfastening it so that it slips down your arms and onto the bed before you shove it aside.

He bends over you, chest broad and warm against your naked shoulderblades, arms coming around your body so that he can cup your breasts in his large hands; his palms cover so much of your skin, your sensitive nipples, and you gasp at the shock of sensation that shoots through you as he drags his hands over them before using his fingers to pinch the hardened nubs. You twist your head and make a little noise, and Namjoon obliges you with a kiss, grinning against your mouth with each desperate sound he muffles with his plush lips.

Eventually, though, he pulls away from you. You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s gotten to his knees, still staring at your soaking core, before he hooks one of his thumbs into the fabric covering your aching pussy and pulls it aside before pressing his mouth against you.

“Oh, fuck!” Your body goes weak and you slump forwards onto your elbows and shove your face into the bed, and Namjoon follows when this moves you away from him, tongue buried in your cunt as he eats you out with no mercy. He’s utterly shameless, noises slick and lewd as he drags his wet tongue over your entrance and clit, swallowing down all the arousal that’s leaking out of you, ravenous. You reach behind you with one of your hands to grip his hair, and when you grind back against his face he lets out a satisfied hum; you gasp at the vibrations against your lower lips, oversensitive from all your edging.

“Gonna cum,” you say, twisting your head so that your cheek is pressed to your rumpled blanket. “I’m so close, oh, God, Namjoon-”

He’s been rubbing his tongue up and down your clit in a particularly sinful way, and after one more particularly hard stroke, you finally, finally reach that precipice you’ve been reaching for all day. You shove your face back into the blanket as you cum, all your gasps and moans coming together in one long cry as your toes curl and you tighten your fingers so hard into your sheets you almost pull them off the mattress. Your entire body trembles as your cunt pulsates with pleasure, each ripple of your pussy feeling like it’s passing through your whole body, and Namjoon doesn’t let up for a second, lapping down each wave of cum that flushes out of you. You feel utterly weak as you flop forwards against the mattress, boneless and shaky, but Namjoon’s mouth is still on you and you let out a whimper, oversensitive.

“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Namjoon-”

He takes his mouth off you immediately. “Sorry, baby,” he apologises, pressing a kiss against the swell of your ass. You want to sag your lower body against the bed but his hands are keeping you up, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass and hips. “You just taste so good. Can you lie down for me?”

“Yes,” you say into the blanket, your voice a muffled slur. You’re so eager to please him even though you feel so weak from your post orgasm haze, and your muscles feel like jelly as you try to lift yourself onto the bed. Namjoon obviously notices how fucked out you are because he helps flip you over so that you’re on your back, staring up at him.

You continue to stare at him as he sheds his clothes. You let your gaze shamelessly rove over his body as it’s revealed- the honeyed tone of his skin, the muscles that shift underneath it, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, the long legs, the thick thighs, the trail of hair that dips down to his-

“Holy fuck.” Your voice is reedy with desperation, and Namjoon laughs.

His cock has to be the biggest you’ve seen in real life, long and thick, fully erect even though you haven’t touched it yet- the fact that you’re apparently arousing enough to bring him to full hardness is flattering, honestly. Even as you stare at it, it twitches, a dribble of precum oozing from the flushed head, almost an angry red from neglect. You watch, enraptured, as he circles his fingers around it; it doesn’t look any smaller in his large hands. He pulls on his cock, long and slow, before he spits onto it and fucks into his fist as you watch him, spreading the wetness over himself.

“Gonna fill that hungry little pussy with this cock,” he says. “Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl. Is that what you want?” Namjoon watches you as he thumbs at his slit, precum weeping from his tip. “Does my good girl want this cock?”

“I want it,” you beg. You do, you want it so bad. His mouth and lips and tongue felt so good but it must be nothing in comparison to how good it’ll feel to be filled up by Namjoon’s heavy, long cock. “Fuck, Namjoon, please, I want it.”

You lift your hips so that Namjoon can slide your panties off you. He stares at the strings of wetness that cling to them as he peels them away from your core, finally bare to the cool air of the room, and you suck in a breath. He wastes no time, climbing onto the bed and settling above you, cock swaying between his legs before he grasps it and tilts it towards your entrance.

You lift your hips again, tilting them towards him for an easier angle- and immediately cry out when he broaches you, head pressing past your entrance. You’re so turned on and flushed wet that the initial slide in is easy, but as he gets deeper and deeper you can feel the stretch, your pussy forced open for him, feeling like you’re being split open with how big he is- you’ll feel the burn tomorrow, but right now your body is ripe and ready for him to take you, cunt clenching as he bottoms out in you. You experimentally tense your muscles and the two of you gasp in a breath, shocked pleasure at the sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans. “You feel so good.”

He holds still for a moment to let you adjust, leaning down to kiss you. It’s deep and slow, tongue swiping into your mouth as you part your lips for him and let him take what he wants. When he leans back, all that softness is gone- your legs fall apart as he starts to fuck you, hips snapping forward as he ruthlessly presses his cock into you. He’s so big and he’s striking so deep it feels like you can feel him in your stomach, and you arch your back into him and cry out each time he strikes home.

The pace he sets is rough and aggressive, the slap of skin against skin and wet noises from his cock driving into your pussy filling the silence of the room, every part of you hypersensitive to every sensation- Namjoon’s weight pressing you into the mattress, the shaking bed, the rising smell of sweat and sex, the firmness of his hands on you. He leans back and you catch a glimpse of his hungry eyes before he puts his hands under your knees and hitches your legs up so that you’re practically bent in half when he fucks into you again- you cry out at the change of angle, how this lets him splay his large hand over the line of your hipbone as he starts to rub his thumb across your clit, continuing to fuck into the whole time.

“Gonna c-cum again,” you hiccup between thrusts, the air punched out of you each time that hot cock spears into you. “Joonie, gonna- gonna cum aga- oh!”

Your spine arches as your orgasm rips through you, coil of pleasure exploding like a firework as you cum for the second time that day, walls tensing around Namjoon’s cock; he continues to thrust into you, even when your cunt clenches so tight it feels like there’s no space inside you for his length. He keeps forcing your body open for him even as you keep falling apart around him, and you keep taking it, loving it. The only thing you can register is the delirious, mind-numbing satisfaction, sobbing out as Namjoon’s cock continues to fill you- you feel like he’s fucked you dumb, like your body was only made to be fucked by him, sloppy and open and wet. Each time he fills you up again it forces a noise from your throat, sounds of almost animalistic pleasure spilling from your lips, all semblance of coherent words gone.

When Namjoon pulls out of you, even though your body feels weak and limp and entirely fucked out, you whine at the loss. The next second, though, he flips you over, nudging your ankles apart before sliding back into you. The change of angle has him dragging against your sweet spot, balls slapping against your clit, overwhelming off the heels of just cumming, but you just take it, drooling into the pillow as your brain gives over to the all-consuming pleasure.

“So pretty when you cum around my cock.” Namjoon’s bent over you, murmuring praises that you barely register as he litters kisses over your shoulders and the side of your throat. “Greedy little pussy takes my cock so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl for you.” Your words are a slur, your brain foggy but eager to please, answering the question. “Joonie.”

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he says, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers filth to you, still mercilessly fucking into you. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum. Do you want my cum, baby?”

“Wan’ it,” you moan. There’s heat curling in your abdomen again, pussy tightening as another orgasm creeps up on you, the promise of Namjoon’s hot cum filling you pulling you closer to the edge. “Want your cum, Joonie.”

His fingers tighten around your waist as he starts to jackhammer into you. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open even as his rhythm starts to falter, and after one particularly hard thrust your eyes roll back in your head as you tumble over the edge again, cumming so hard it’s a wonder you don’t pass out. You let out a strangled moan and Namjoon curses as you tighten around him, your entire body trembling under his hands as you give yourself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through you.

His rhythm falters before he lets out a shout and his cock jerks inside you as your tightening cunt pulls him into climax. Hot cum fills your pussy as he empties himself inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm drawing his seed deeper, painting your insides. You lie there and take it, face turned into the pillow as you focus on the sensation of his twitching cock, the way your body is milking him even in your exhaustion, like it’s desperate to satisfy him even when you can barely speak.

You shiver when you feel him slowly pull out. He’s stroking his hands over your skin, kissing your shoulder blades and nape as he turns you over, gentle as he touches you. “You did so well,” Namjoon praises, smiling at you. “So good for me.”

You still feel fuzzy but you latch onto Namjoon’s words as he kisses you on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Words seem so hard to string together right now but you try your best, voice small and weak. “Did good?”

“Absolutely perfect, baby,” Namjoon says, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay quiet while Namjoon slips out of your bed before returning with a damp cloth. You let your muscles go entirely lax as Namjoon rolls you onto your back and gently spreads your legs; he watches as his own cum drips out of you before he gently swipes the mix of cum that’s smeared across your pussy, mindful of your sensitive clit. You bask in his touch, feeling like a cat bathing in sunlight as he cleans you up, stroking his hands across your skin.

He gathers you in his arms and continues to murmur praises between kisses and touches. You slowly come back to yourself as he keeps lavishing attention on you, skin warm against his, turning into his touch as your brain starts to flicker back on.

Namjoon brushes his lips against your forehead as your higher thought processes continue to fall back into place, although you’re still a little hazy. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You feel thoroughly fucked out after three back-to-back orgasms and your pussy feels raw and you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to walk in a straight line, but none of those things detract from how fabulous you feel right now. “More than okay. Wow. When I said I wanted you to wreck me, I didn’t realise you’d do such a good job.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and you finally get to indulge yourself, lifting a hand to stroke a finger across his dimples that deepen as you touch them. “I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, and you grin as you brush your nose across his neck, nuzzling into him.

“You really are the best neighbour,” you say. “Did you seriously come over to give me a bunch of hand picked strawberries? That’s what that bag was, right?”

“Of course.” Namjoon’s fingers continue to rub circles into your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a nice treat after a day of chores.”

“Oh, I feel very thoroughly rewarded,” you giggle, before pulling your head back to look Namjoon in the eye. “God. I was so mortified at the beginning, though. I seriously thought I was going to have to pack my bags and move away.”

“The strawberries wouldn’t be enough to persuade you to stay?” Namjoon strokes his knuckles down your cheek before resting his thumb under the swell of your bottom lip, pushing up a little so it looks like you’re pouting at him. “After I spent all afternoon picking them and thinking about you, and how lovely you’d look while you ate them with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

You relax into his touch, letting him rub the pad of his thumb over your lip, all but kissing his finger each time your mouth shapes itself around another word. “You think about me?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Namjoon says, stroking over your lip one last time before cupping your chin in his palm. “I don’t genuinely lose my keys as often as you think I do. Though I do still lose them a lot,” he adds, a little sheepish, and you laugh.

“So you’re saying that if I give you a spare key to my flat, I should have back-ups on hand just in case?” You tease, leaning into the hand that’s cradling your chin. “Good to know.”

“A spare key?” Namjoon looks a little taken aback, and you blink at him.

“Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Y’know, unless you want me to go back to using the tumble dryer.”

The hand that’s been on your shoulder tightens a little as Namjoon digs his fingers into your skin, possessive. That part of you that’s gone belly up for him preens at the attention, still eager to please him and make him happy, loving the sensation of being so desired by someone who you thought was out of your reach. “No.” Namjoon’s voice is a rumble in his chest. “I’ll make you cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You hum quietly before kissing his cheek, and then Namjoon uses the hand under your chin to turn you towards him and presses his mouth softly to yours. “You might regret saying that. I’m very demanding. Starting with this- do you want to go get those strawberries so I can have a taste?” You flutter your lashes at him, and Namjoon chuckles as he indulges you.

You watch the flex of muscles in his thighs and ass as he walks from the room, still in a bit of disbelief that you’ve touched him and kissed him and been so thoroughly fucked by him. Kim Namjoon is a ten course meal (not including drinks or dessert) but here he is, naked on your bed as he feeds you the sweet, ripe strawberries that he picked with his own hands, kissing the taste off your lips between each bite.

You feel utterly pampered and taken care of, reclining against the pillows as Namjoon feeds you another strawberry. You reach out for the largest you can see and return the favour, letting him lick the sweetness off your stained fingers and giggling at the sensation.

“The dryer’s finished its cycle, by the way,” Namjoon says after he’s finished kissing your fingertips.

“That’s nice,” you say as you carefully pick out another strawberry and rest it against the dark red flush of Namjoon’s lips. “But I’m busy feeding the world’s most beautiful man right now, so it can wait.”

Namjoon smiles at you, eyes lovely and warm as he parts his lips to accept the fruit, before leaning down to press his berry stained mouth against your own.

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #namjoon oneshot #bts x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #joy.masterlist

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

would you mind doing a little scene maybe of caduceusxreader or maybe calebxreader where their s/o ends up hit with pollen during battle that gets them super high alla knott and the floor fruit style please?

Little turned into a bit more of a scenes instead 😅. A little disclaimer; I do not condone the abuse of substances especially not illegal ones. Listen to your auntie Saph, kids! Stay in school and be responsible! 😘

Content Warning: Use of mind altering substances.

It’s the middle of a fight in the jungle. You’re under attack by a large lizard walking on its hind legs, with some rather useless short arms but huge sharp teeth that have munched on Fjord one too many times leaving the half-orc in a bleeding and moody state without much of a chance to get out and not get hit again.

The battlefield is not in your favour considering this oversized lizard is about to turn your friend into its next meal but you still have a healing potion left and really, this is the time to use it but you can’t really get to Fjord without getting close to the lizard thing and even then you doubt you’d be able to get into arms reach of the man. Well it’s now or never and better than the alternative. You rush forward dodging below the toothy maw of the creature.

“Fjord! Catch!” With that you get as close as you can, tossing the healing potion. Fjord just barely catches it, thanking you but that quickly falls silent.

“Look out!” Caleb shouts as he releases a firebolt to strike the lizard. It does not stop the creature from swiping with its tail sending you flying with a brute force knocking the air out of you. Luckily your landing is softened by a comfy bed of flowers, moss and some mushrooms. You land a cloud of spores and pollen dusting around you and entering your lungs as the first breath you’re able to take. It leaves you coughing and sneezing but you shake it off. This is not the right time for allergies to be kicking in. You got a lizard to kill.

Together you fight off the lizard. Still taking quite some good hits you deliver some as well and in the end manage to kill the thing. Some of you worse for wear you unanimously decided taking a breather is probably a good idea. You find a comfy patch of moss that does not release a dust cloud the moment you touch it and let yourself fall into its soft embrace, eyes closed.

“I’m just going to lie down over here. Let me know when we’re moving again.” An odd sense of nausea kicks in so you turn to your side and just curl up in an attempt to get a little more comfortable on the jungle floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Caleb asks looking you over. Physically you're a bit worse for wear but not terribly so. A moment of rest should have you back on your feet. You phase out a bit letting yourself be dragged off in a moment of rest.

Not but five minutes later your moment of peace is disturbed by a warm, really warm but comfortable hand being placed on your arm and shaking you lightly. You curl up a little tighter before rolling on your back and meeting the bright blue eyes of Caleb. You don’t recall them being that bright, maybe more like a muted or pale blue but now they’re vibrant. Odd you hadn’t noticed before. Same goes for his hair, red is more fiery orange and you swear you can pick apart every single strand on his head as well as the light stubble he’s sporting.

"Hey." You smile at the wizard lovingly. You'll never tire of waking up to Caleb no matter of how much you might want to continue sleeping. Caleb's a handsome man but right now he looks absolutely angelic with the bleeding light creating a halo around him.

Maybe it’s just because of the faded green background behind Caleb that throws off the contrast? Besides, you might have fallen asleep in your five minutes of rest, your vision usually goes a bit blurry until things come into focus but that doesn’t really explain why Caleb is so high focus now… Odd but you dismiss it as exhaustion and the vast jungle getting to you. No, you definitely hit your head when that lizard tail swiped you. Maybe you have a concussion. Should ask the clerics to check that out later once they’ve gotten their rest. Now's not the time to bother them.

“Hey. Time to get up. We’re ready to move before nightfall comes around.” Ugh. Even his voice sounds angelic now? Caleb offers you a hand and helps you up from the comforts of your moss-bed. Somewhat reluctant you get up. The nausea gets worse and you put a hand over your mouth suppressing the urge to vomit.

“Are you alright?” Caleb stabilises you as you stumble a little, dizziness not making your nausea any better. Sweet gods those warm hands just make you want to curl up into their warmth forever but you repress the urge well aware Caleb isn’t exactly the fondest of pda and keep it more surface levels with the others around.

“Yeah. Totally fine just a bit ugh but I’ll be fine. Some more sleep will probably do me good.” You see the rest of the Nein is packed up and ready to continue. Weren’t they just unpacking when you closed your eyes five minutes ago? Okay so maybe those five minutes were closer to an hour or so? What kind of exhaustion fuelled time warp did you get stuck in? This exhaustion is really getting to you. You need a vacation; one with Caleb. Maybe with an ocean view? That sounds nice. You're getting side tracked. Time to travel.

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

The journey continues deeper into the jungle towards your destination and your limbs get heavier and heavier. Did Jester paint you some lead shoes and replace yours while you were asleep? Did she do your clothes too? Because your whole body feels so heavy.

You bump into Caleb’s side. A hand finds its way to the small of your back and the warmth returns. You didn’t realise you’re feeling so cold, freezing almost so you allow yourself to lean just a bit more into Caleb’s side to bask in the warmth provided by your flaming hot wizard.

“You don’t happen to be able to make someone do the floaty glide thingy Essek can do, can’t you?” Caleb is confused by your sudden question and the unfiltered sentencing. You usually formulate your words more carefully than this but it seems as if the word ‘gravity’ has escaped your vocabulary. Caleb blames it on exhaustion seeing your somewhat unfocused state and feeling the weight of your body leaning on him for support. You’ve been walking for hours, running for a few and fought a giant lizard of a forgotten era after all. You have every right to be tired and he'll support you in any way he can.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. But, we will be setting down for the night once we reach a clear spot.” Didn’t you catch that conversation? You were there for it providing nods and noises of agreement while keeping an eye out for anything approaching. This is a bit odd for you so Caleb decides to keep an eye on you.

You hear birds chirping around you, their song drowning out Caleb’s words but not voice as he talks to you but the song is just too beautiful, it brings a smile to your face. Looking around you can see them sometimes. Colourful feathers popping against the green and the muted flashes of a sun lowering. If the sun’s going to sleep, you want to go soon too. It’s not really fair if you have to keep walking when it gets to lie down.

The colours and patterns through the leaves are very pretty though and the rays bleeding through are to die for. The world should look like this forever. It’s so beautiful, pulsing with every breath you take. No, you’re breathing with the nature around you. You get a newfound respect for Caduceus and Fjord’s Wildmom. She’s pretty cool if she’s responsible for all this. Is she responsible for all this? She gets your credit anyway.

You’re pulled to a sudden stop, or at least it feels sudden. Caleb is suddenly in front of you pulling your focus towards him and away from the chirping birds and the setting sun and the Wildmom. You’d ask Caleb to leave you alone but his gentle smile alone and warm hands on your shoulders pushing you down to sit on a tree stump call for your undivided attention in turn pulling it away from the gently blowing breeze and kaleidoscope of colours.

“You’re exhausted. Sit down and rest while we set up.” Caleb suggests and you find yourself nodding the words not entirely registering. Warm fingers press against your cheek before they pull away all too soon. The warmth leaves your body as Caleb leaves your side and the freezing cold returns. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself in an effort to preserve the heat but nothing seems to work.

You try to focus on your surroundings to distract from the icy cold, the humid jungle temperatures doing nothing to keep you warm. The crickets provide a beautiful symphony with the rustling leaves, the last of the song birds going to sleep and the awakening of the nocturnal creatures. It helps and you find yourself swaying lightly from side to side with the melody. It brings you a sense of happiness and content as well as a connection to everything around you.

You feel yourself beginning to drift when something warm and soft and a little heavy is draped across your shoulders. The warmth is similar to Caleb but not entirely the same, though you’re met with an intense smell of molasses, old books and whatever remains after a fire has turned to embers. Your eyes fall upon the dark purple material of Caleb’s coat; most of all the geometric patterns of the lining. They are enchanting and you feel like you could get lost in them.

“You’re shivering. Come. We’re all set up.” You once again allow Caleb to guide you back to your feet and pull you along to where the Nein had set up. Sitting down with you Caleb takes out his spellbook and a small crystal bead. You've always loved watching Caleb cast spells, something alluring to the practiced words and patterns. He begins to weave his hands through the air in front of him, the light sparks of magic following his fingertips as he speaks the words, what you didn’t expect to see is the trails left by the motions. You’ve never seen those before. That’s new. They’re very pretty though; a warm orange trail of embers just like him. Enamoured you stare, making no effort to hide or avert your gaze. You catch Caleb's eyes and he offers you a half smile which you dopily return continuing to watch the patterns.

You’re rudely pulled out of your trance by Caduceus offering you a bowl of food. Usually you would have jumped at the promise of food, the firbolg’s cooking is unrivalled but now the nausea comes back and your stomach twists at the smell alone. You turn to the side fighting the urge vomit and as politely as possible and decline the delicious food much to your dismay.

Caleb does accept the food he’s offered as Veth happily accepts your serving as seconds. Caleb sniffs the food expecting it to smell off somehow because of your reaction but it doesn’t. It’s as perfect as ever and you’re not one to refuse food when offered. As he begins eating you excuse yourself finding a spot where you don’t have to look at your friends consuming their food both, because of the strong smell and the look of it. While delicious the thought of the texture sends your brain in overdrive where you get an overwhelming phantom taste which only intensifies the nausea.

Finding a spot still within the dome but far enough to be comfortable you just watch the geometric patterns in the lining of Caleb’s coat. Not only do you focus on the patterns but you’re pretty sure you can count the individual threats of the fabric. The colours and contrast intense pull you in almost pervasively so.

A hand shakes your shoulder turning you to face them. It’s Caleb and he looks rather worried. The expression alone carries over to you. What’s he worried about? It’s not bad is it? Is it because of you? Oh, no maybe it is you… You’re set into a train of emotions and anxiety and when Caleb notices his expression softens but the worry does not leave.

“Hey, hey. I need you to breathe, okay? Just keep breathing.” You follow his instructions taking deep breathes and the anxiety mutes replaced by a hyper fixation on Caleb. Literally, everything around the wizard fades into the distance when he steps into your vision but you manage to force yourself to be aware of your surroundings with a lot of effort.

“Very good. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” From over Caleb’s shoulder you see Veth stuff her mouth with the food you refused and that alone is enough to make you gag. Caleb notices and shifts to break your line of sight. Oh no, you can smell it again. You cover your mouth and nose and lean forward letting your forehead fall against his clavicle taking deep breaths of the comfy molasses, old pages and smouldering fire scent.

“I don’t know but one more sniff of food and I’ll vomit so please take mercy on me and save me from the savoury deliciousness until this nausea passes.” Caleb wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing circles into your back while the other lightly plays with the hairs on the back of your neck to alleviate your suffering. Of course he’s trying to piece together what’s happened because you’re behaviour added up is not entirely like you. Right now his priority is making sure you're comfortable.

He keeps this going as one by one the Nein goes to sleep, Caleb and by default you taking the first watch. You don’t yet feel comfortable removing yourself from Caleb’s arms but do find a more comfortable position for the both of you to spare you the numbness of limbs.

The longer you sit around your mind starts to feel less hazy, the hyper focus lessens and your stomach calls for sustenance, the nausea fading. Luckily Caduceus had saved you some leftovers which you happily nibble on. The spices and herbs providing extra flavours are intense but no longer unwelcome or nauseating. Regardless of what caused this all, you didn’t think Caduceus’ food could taste any better but damn does it taste beyond divine. You’ve rediscovered your appetite and finish the leftovers.

While sitting in Caleb’s embrace, head on his stomach holding the book you’re both reading Caleb’s coat long since returned to him you’re feeling mentally exhausted, but your mind is at ease, as if all stress and pressure of the world around you has faded for just a moment. You’re at peace in the arms of the man you love and surrounded by your friends.

The realisation that despite all the bad you’ve gone through together it’s all been worth it a thousand times over and you wouldn’t change a thing. A yawn escapes as you turn the page, knowing Caleb will have read it several times at this point.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“You’d think with all the breaks and rest you’ve already gotten today you’d have trouble sleeping again.” Caleb recalls the times where you’ve taken breaks before and spent half of the night up getting rid of the energy just to get a moment of sleep in the more stressful days where sleep does not come easily; days like the past few have been.

“I would have but none of those times did I actually catch a break. I was nauseas for hours, everything felt and looked intense, could only focus on one thing at the time visually even though for some reason I was hyper aware of my senses.” You turn the page again as Caleb pulls you a little closer, about to press a kiss to your shoulder. He stops, retreats and instead brushes his fingers over it.

“Maybe I was just on an exhaustion or anxiety high running on my last bit of energy and now we get a moment to relax and breathe, that’s what gotten me back to earth.” Caleb doesn’t respond and when you look up at him from over your shoulder you see Caleb closely inspecting the fingers he brushed over your shoulder.

“You know, I’m beginning doubt this change of mood was induced by exhaustion.” He runs his fingers together and you see the light dust pulverise. Confused you signal for Caleb to elaborate on his train of thought because you’re still feeling a little slow.

“Remember the tumble you took into the patch of flowers and mushrooms?”

“You mean when I got my ask kicked by an oversized lizard? Yeah, hard to forget.” You grasp at your ribs as if to relief a still lasting ache from the hit of the creature’s tail. You turn around, putting the book down and sit on your knees between Caleb’s legs as things begin to fall into place for the both of you. Your landing... Oh no...

“I don’t think that dust cloud upon impact was just dust or pollen.” You throw your head back and groan. Unbelievable. Through the lasting peace and calm you feel the embarrassment peak through as well as annoyance at the whole situation.

“So you’re telling me I’ve been tripping balls for the past six or so hours?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Caleb states deadpanned before he breaks and laughs at you. You deserve it really. Stubbornness to admit something’s wrong is what got you so far. Should have told someone you weren’t feeling right and it definitely wasn’t exhaustion but no and it was already too late when the ‘beauty of the world’ took hold of your mind.

“Well then, take comfort that it’s not just the spores leave me completely enamoured with you.” You peck Caleb’s nose and poke his stomach to get him to quit laughing before he wakes up the others. You won’t hear the end of this that’s for damn sure so best to keep this incident between the two of you. Let the other’s believe you’re just over-exhausted.

#critical role #critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader

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rataltouille · 4 years

Text

GEOMETRY OF THE HOLY MOON (1 AM): A SHORT STORY

GENRE: surrealism, literary fiction.

POV & TENSE: this little space is not enough for how wild the form is so i talk about this later!!

SETTING: a small desi village, 1924-25.

TONE: dreamy, unsettling, melancholic.

THEMES: faith vs reality, how people perceive others and how they perceive themselves, grief dealt the wrong way.

AESTHETICS: the splash of water on a quiet night, thick clouds obscuring the sky, rippling the moon’s reflection on the water. the intensity of a garden in spring, the emptiness of a dying town, the suffocation from being singled out. hands grazing lightly but never fully held. a lingering sadness behind your laugh. believing in things you shouldn't believe in. putting faith on a starless sky.

STAGE: completed first draft, 4085 words.

LOGLINE: a young boy, surrounded by loss, claims to talk to god. the story follows him and his conversations with this god, all while his village spies on him as he weaves his way around the two most crucial and lonely years of his life.

LITERAL LOGLINE: on today’s news let’s talk about a small backward town that hates sad little boys who worship god, even though the place is lowkey a cult!!

CHARACTERS:

THE SUMMER BOY: he’s around thirteen, and he’s very emotionally attached to his past. he lost his family at a young age to an unstable force, so he spends his time talking to himself. he’s a quiet, demure and sweet person, always willing to help others. he’s outwardly oblivious and sees only the good in people to a point where he doesn't understand when they’re trying to do him wrong. but! considering how the story [like a lot of my others] has themes of perception vs reality, it needs to be said that he isn't all that innocent. he’s rather impulsive and rash, never afraid of hurting himself [and thus accidentally harming others].

A GOD: is he real? do we even know if he’s an actual god? a very elusive figure despite having a lot of screentime. he’s a surprisingly humanised character and arguably the one with the most empathy. he has a soft spot for the boy and the two have a deep bond which is not common for a human and a god to have. you don’t get insight to what the other gods are like, but they’re implied to exist. this story has a very messy and hazy view towards religion and godhood and their nature towards humanity, and this vague figure, a dreamlike character, is proof enough of that.

THE VILLAGE: okay so in general these people suck. the village consists of, well, the village, but they’re very fluid in the way they appear in the story? as in for the most part they appear as a collective, a unit. one character, the summer boy’s “friend”, is somewhat separate considering he’s a pretty important character. it’s very hard describing this unit of a character but essentially they’re the main antagonistic force and they hate the protagonist for seemingly no reason.

WHAT GOES DOWN:

sometime around this time, the boy chances upon meeting his “god”, this being who lives up in the clouds and whom he talks with often, except you don't know if this god is real or not. that’s one of the recurring themes of this story: what’s real and what isn’t. it’s :) a fun time :) for sure :)

essentially Things Happen And It Only Gets Weirder. i cannot even try describing what happens because it’s all very spoilery but let’s just say that this is a very sad story but not even in a “this makes me cry” manner, but rather in a “this is so fucked up wtf why”. the prose of this is very, very hazy and thick, in a manner that’s both smooth and suffocating. there’s also a lot of moon and water imagery which we love. i love the atmosphere + the setting—colonial india— as it’s a subtle but key element to the plot.

FORM:

OKAY YES be prepared for the true colours of how unhinged i am. i apologize for the form brainrot.

POV: so in this story i really said “what if it had all three of the main povs... jk jk... unless 😳😳” and then proceeded to use all three povs. you’re probably wondering, how did i do that? WHY did i do that? and my answer to that is: 🙂

the first-person pov: the summer boy narrates in first person. his pov takes up about 40% of the story, and this is where we unlock family backstory + how he feels about the various forces playing into his life. he’s an extremely unreliable narrator and he knows it; his narration oscillates between very naive and very self-aware, and this effect is pretty disconcerting. the summer boy is kind of a walking contradiction and we love that conflict.

the second-person pov: a god narrates in second person. his pov takes around 20% of the story, and his scenes all involve his conversations with the boy. his pov is extremely detached, and suspends belief because he seems awfully made up. there’s an edge to the prose in his narration, where you know that something's off, but you can’t exactly pinpoint what.

the third-person pov: the villagers narrate, either as a collective, or as an individual figure, in third person. they take up the other 40% of the story, and there are so many different people and differing opinions with this, and every time we read a third person excerpt it’s a different person, and this is mostly used to add onto the different ways in which the boy is perceived. this is also where the structural part of the form gets really wacky.

STRUCTURE: if my story isn't told in vignettes is it my story though /j. gothm is told in vignettes, each one between 50 to 500 words. the first and second person bits are normal-ish vignettes, with straightforward narration. the third person vignettes, on the other hand, are super assorted. we have a lot of epistolaric sections— there’s a letter, a folk song [which was found around the summer boy], and most of the conversation is told as just plain dialogue without tags. there’s also a phone call transcript, and finally some normal chunks of prose. what am i doing wtf.

also to add onto this the story is told non-linearly. 😀 the only thing that keeps me from going insane is the fact that there are chronological tags before most vignettes [also the manner in which they're tagged differs from pov to pov. for example a few of the third person conversations are marked just as “sunday” or “thursday”, while the summer boy’s narration is marked with the full date and year]

in all this clownery i completely forgot to mention what the tense was [the way everything else was so complicated that i forgot tense was a thing lmao] and good news!! it’s the only sane thing about this story!! it’s told fully in present tense. thank everything.

AN EXCERPT:

okay i’m once again not sharing much because this will be submitted to litmags 🧞

[The boy is scrawny as always. He carries an air of diswant— even death had rejected him when the plague killed only his grandmother— but walks like he doesn’t notice. He smiles at them, jitters, and wipes his hand across his knees. Blood comes away in thin, translucent lines. He saves it on the kerchief he keeps tucked in his shirt, careful to dirty the cloth even more. The villagers scrunch their noses in disgust; who knew how old and rotten the kerchief was, or how long it had carried blood like the unwashed sword of a warrior?]

also by the way this excerpt is in square brackets because it is a third-person interjection in a vignette that is otherwise first-person [at this point...]

SPARE THOUGHTS:

this was inspired by a conversation i had with my grandfather, where he was telling me about how people used to sing songs to the skies, as a way of devotion to a specific god. he used the [loose translation of] the english word “yearning” to refer to the emotion the singers would invoke, and that sparked the concept of a disillusioned young boy who talks to the moon as a way to please the god he’s in love with. it’s a very softly disconcerting story and once again deals with the theme of “perception vs reality” which if you know me and my work, is the theme i’m forever obsessed with.

i really like how this turned out? the atmosphere is exactly how i wanted it to be, and there’s so much i have to add on as i edit and i’m really looking forward to that. this is also the only short story i’ve written where i knew which litmag i’d love for it to be published in? like i never write things with publishing in mind, but for some reason while writing this story it occurred to me that it would be a perfect fit for this specific magazine and i love that. anyway if you’ve made it through the post till here,,,, bless you and your braincells. and that’s all for today!!

#am writing #writeblr #wtwcommunity #atlastracking #ofcolourtracking #crabappletracking #tw death #tw plague #tw blood #the way this post gets increasingly incomprehensible...#love how my blog has just descended into pure chaos post-hiatus #geometry of the holy moon (1 am)#god complex #god complex intro

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Femme Fatale - Ch 1 / 2

Pairing: Alex x Reader (background J2) Rating: 18+ Tags: Dom/Sub relationships, Sub!Alex, Domme!Reader, Dom!Jensen, Sub!Jared, sex/bdsm club, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pegging, humiliation kink Word Count: 3.3k Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Dom/Sub

A/N: Thank you so much for being my first ever commission Sin! I've had a lot of fun tackling this challenge because I've never written a Domme!reader before but I really appreciate you trusting me with your idea, and I hope I do it justice ❤️

Series Masterlist

This is a weird idea, even for Alex. A night out with his cast mates isn’t unusual, and Y/N has gone along on plenty of group dinners with Alex, Jared and Jensen (that were essentially double dates) before, but they usually ended by closing out the hotel bar or crashing in someone’s guest room. They had never ended up at a proper club before, let alone planned a whole evening around going to a specific one. But that’s the plan tonight.

When Alex informs her that the location was Misha’s suggestion, it makes even less sense to Y/N. Misha seems like he would be the least likely of all of them to actually enjoy clubbing but hey, what does she know?

“Alex, I don’t have anything to wear!” Y/N complains from inside their closet, hoping her boyfriend can hear her through the bathroom door.

“That cannot be true,” she can hear the amusement coupled with a light mix of exasperation in his tone.

“What did they tell you the dress code was?” Y/N calls as she continues to flip through the clothes hanging in front of her.

“Misha said, and I quote, ‘dress slutty’.” Alex appears in the doorway to the closet and leans against the frame, tucking his arms across his chest. Y/N actually does a double take when she sees him.

“I see you took that advice literally,” she eyes him, gaze dragging across his body and catching against each new feature she notices like sandpaper running against the grain. Alex is dressed casually, but most definitely sluttily too. A loose and frayed wife beater hangs off his shoulders, showing off his waist where one side is tucked into his shorts. The elastic of his boxers is sticking out over the shirt too, which is completely on purpose in a move to tease. The denim shorts are tight, torn-up, and just to the knee. Y/N has seen him wear them before, and she knows when he turns around she’ll have an amazing view of his ass.

“I’m good at following instructions,” Alex smiles, clearly pleased with himself that he’d successfully fulfilled his remit.

“So eager to please,” Y/N teases over her shoulder as she goes back to thumbing through outfit potentials. “Honestly, the fact that Misha is telling us to dress slutty and not Jared must mean dress really slutty.”

“You could just not wear anything,” Alex offers as a suggestion. “Nothing sluttier than free access.”

“In your dreams, babe.”

“How did you know?” Alex is mock horrified and you laugh along with him when he breaks character. “Still can’t decide?” and Y/N shakes her head in response. “Can I pick for you? I do have a pretty good memory of all your sluttiest outfits.”

“Hey! Who you callin’ a slut Mr. Slutty McTightShorts?” Y/N rounds on Alex, comically enraged.

“You, duh,” Alex laughs and pecks her on the cheek as he moves over to a drawer where Y/N keeps her underwear.

Alex goes straight for the lingerie, Y/N should have guessed, and he pulls out a matching set of lacy thong and longline bra, both enmeshed in patterns of criss-crossed elastic and ribbons. Then he ducks down to the bottom drawer where Y/N keeps a load of her old college clothes that she’s too sentimental to get rid of, and rummages through it, clearly looking for something specific. He finally liberates a skirt that barely has the right to be called a piece of clothing. Y/N can’t even remember why she owns that. Finally he reaches for a swingy tank made of a light gauzy material. It’s really meant to be a cover-up for the beach because of how loose and flowy it is but Y/N imagines that is Alex’s intention behind picking it – he knows it won’t stay on properly or do a single thing to hide the bra she’ll be wearing beneath it. Alex hands her the pile of clothes, again looking very pleased with himself.

“You’re really not pulling punches tonight, are ya?”

“I just want to show off how awesome my girlfriend is,” Alex shrugs.

“Yeah, you want to show off all of her, apparently,” Y/N holds up the small skirt skeptically.

“You’ll look incredible, scouts’ honour,” Alex swears, grinning.

“If we show up and the others aren’t dressed super slutty, I’m gonna maim things.”

“I won’t stop you,” Alex laughs and pushes Y/N out of the closet. “C’mon get dressed so we can go down some alcohol before the car gets here.”

They’ve both knocked back a beer and a shot when the car pulls up and a message pops into the group chat saying they’re here. The night is close and warm outside of the air conditioning, and for that reason at least Y/N is glad to be wearing such a small amount of clothing. When the young couple slides into the car they’re greeted by Jared, Jensen, Misha, and his wife Vicki – another surprise to Y/N, as she doesn’t come out with them too often. Something about tonight must be special.

“Hey hot stuff!” Jared greets them, grinning as he eyes them both up and down. Jensen pinches him on the leg. “Behave.” Jared doesn’t let it derail his examination.

“Thanks, I know, right?” Alex jokes and ruffles his hair, throwing Jared a wink. Y/N gives him a side eye, silently imitating Jensen’s instruction of behave. Alex grabs for her hand and kisses it in a gesture of reassurance, dropping their joined hands to his lap and keeping them there. Alex is a flirt, just like Jared, but Y/N knows that he would never stray from her. At least, not unless she tells him to.

The car proceeds to drive them across town to an area of L.A. Y/N isn’t familiar with. She and Alex haven’t lived in the city very long, so it’s not like she’s expecting to know every inch of its nightlife scene but this place seems much more out of the way than she was expecting them to be going. The streets they’re trundling down are dark, not bright and shining with neon and glittering lights like so much of downtown tends to be. The occasional person or couple is walking along the sidewalk, but overall it’s deserted by city standards.

“Where are we going again?” Y/N pipes up from her seat, looking out the window and spotting another couple in dark coats holding hands as they amble down the side street.

“We’re almost there,” Vicki smiles reassuringly at Y/N, then turns to Jensen. “Tom texted to let me know he’s set aside a table upstairs for us, so everyone can just watch or they can join in, whatever you want.”

“Who’s Tom?” Y/N asks curiously, she hasn’t heard the name before.

“He’s our boyfriend,” Misha answers matter of factly, like he’s trying not to betray any emotion around the statement until he can judge Y/N and Alex’s reactions to that news. Y/N can’t pretend she isn’t surprised, but the more she thinks about it the more she realises that Misha is always quite private about his and Vicki’s relationship – this must be why.

“Oh, cool dude,” Alex laughs, giving an approving nod, almost like he’s impressed with Misha’s nonconformity. Y/N smiles. Alex always loves finding out about what people have going on ‘outside the box’, it helps him come out of his own shell just a little bit more every time.

“Can’t wait to meet him,” Y/N chimes in, just to quiet the small hint of wariness she can see playing behind Misha’s eyes. He relaxes visibly and smiles, much more his carefree and goofy self in that instant.

“Oh, s’that it?” Jared points out the window to a dim neon sign and a small group of people sitting on benches and little round tables, smoking. The block letters shine against the rough brickwork of the building they’re mounted on, grey and sophisticated, unlike all the garish colours Y/N would usually expect from a nightclub.

Femme Fatale.

Y/N hadn’t known what to expect when they got inside but she never would have expected what she’s witnessing now. Femme Fatale is a swingers club. Not just that, it’s a BDSM swingers club.

How had they known? Y/N wonders. She and Alex don’t usually make a habit of discussing that aspect of their relationship with other people. Especially since Alex is still pretty new to being a Sub. He had toyed with the idea of being a Dom in a previous relationship, and technically he labels himself as a Switch when people ask, but he once he had told Y/N that since he met her she brings out a part of himself he hadn’t really connected with properly before, and he loves it.

His eyes are wide now, blown out with obvious lust as Y/N watches him watch his surroundings. Jared is the same, and Jensen is watching him just as intently as Y/N is watching Alex. With how they act, Y/N always suspected that Jensen and Jared were in a Dom/Sub relationship, and she was quietly smug that she had been right. Misha and Vicki had left the party at their table on the exposed balcony as soon as their boyfriend Tom, who Y/N now understands is the manager of this club, had shown them in and sat them down. Now, Y/N knows what Vicki had meant in the car about them just being able to watch if that’s what they wanted to do, instead of joining in. Misha and Vicki have clearly opted to join in, and Y/N can’t see where they went off to, lost in the heaving crowd of people below them.

So far, she’s enjoying watching, and Alex clearly is too. His slutty shorts are doing nothing to hide the semi he’d popped almost the second they walked in. It isn’t so much her thing, but Y/N knows Alex has an exhibitionist streak, and she can easily imagine what must be running through his mind right now. Being out in the middle of everything, shown off, performing. And Y/N thinks she might like showing him off, showing everyone what a good little boy he can be for his Mistress, showing everyone how much control she has over him. How much he wants to do everything she asks of him, to please her.

“Jared,” Y/N looks away from Alex when Jensen speaks, and Alex looks up from the ground floor where he had been watching some of the people on display. “Do you want to go play?” Jensen asks neutrally, very carefully leaving the choice up to Jared, without betraying his own feelings on the notion.

“Can we?” Jared’s eyes light up instantly and Y/N smirks to herself. Jared and Alex are more alike than she realised.

“Yeah, c’mon baby boy,” Jensen smiles indulgently and holds out his hand to Jared, who takes it and follows him down the stairs to the play areas. Y/N looks back to Alex, whose eyes are glued to his cast mates’ backs.

“What about you, baby boy?” Y/N purrs, using Jared’s nickname teasingly and Alex blushes as she runs her nails up his bare arm. She’d never called him that before but it’s clear he likes it. “Do you want to go play?”

“I–” Alex breaks off, considering. “Can we just watch for a bit? See what everyone’s doing?” he asks nervously.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Y/N smiles and offers Alex her hand. They make their way down the iron grate staircase into the madness that has been churning below them this whole time. It’s easy to spot Jared and Jensen, despite the crowd. They stick out above the heads of a lot of the people nearby because most of them are bent over or crouched down to some extent.

They’re at the edge of the dance floor, in a space that’s still public but is cordoned off for more… intimate play. There’s two St. Andrew’s crosses bolted on the wall, both currently occupied with girls – one wearing an assortment of leather straps with metal studs poking out of them, and one wearing absolutely nothing but the cuffs binding her to the beams. Leather couches and benches are dotted around the floorspace, all covered with partially to wholly naked occupants engaging in every variety of sexual activity Y/N can imagine. Alex looks like a kid in a candy store watching it all unfold before him.

“You can watch whoever you want, but no touching without my permission, okay?” Y/N speaks into Alex’s ear so he can hear her over the bass of the music that’s vibrating through the crowd around them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex salutes her cheekily and starts to move away but she grabs the neck of his shirt and hauls him back, looking him sternly in the eye.

“Do you want to try that again with a little respect, baby?” Alex drops his eyes and looks penitent.

“Yes, Mistress.” He gives her a weak smile, asking for forgiveness, and Y/N decides to let him off this time.

“Good boy,” she leans up and kisses his forehead before giving him a swift pat on the backside. “Have fun, I’m going to grab a drink,” Y/N points to one of the bars lining the far side of the play area. “Find me that way if you want me, okay baby?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Alex nods meekly, giving Y/N a small kiss before he ducks into the crowd towards a group of spectators all watching a girl tied to a bench getting teased by her Domme and a flogger. Typical, Y/N smiles to herself and makes her way to the bar to order a glass of wine.

Wine in hand, Y/N spins on her heel and looks around the room. Alex is still where she left him and a few groups over she spots Jensen, his back to her, watching something else she can’t quite make out between everyone’s bodies. Jared doesn’t appear to be anywhere though. Y/N decides to have a look at whatever Jensen’s observing, curious what’s got him so stoically still. There’s a lot going on around him but it becomes instantly clear which performer Jensen’s watching when Y/N approaches and peeks over his shoulder.

Jared is on his hands and knees, in amongst a crowd of people. There’s a sort of black leather platform that he’s perched on, so they’re elevated from the floor. It puts Jared’s mouth at the perfect height to reach people’s waists, which he’s currently putting to good use by swapping between two men with their cocks standing out stiff from their jeans. Jensen is watching closely, smirking at the crowd all raptly watching his boyfriend. When Jared takes the man with the bigger cock so deep that his nose is pressed to the man’s stomach, Y/N can’t help but laugh.

“I see why you like him so much,” Y/N bumps her shoulder against Jensen and he jumps, looking down at her and grinning when his brain catches up to her comment.

“Yeah he’s good with his mouth,” Jensen agrees, smiling proudly.

“Nice of you to loan him out.”

“I like to think I’m generous,” Jensen shrugs. “But not too generous,” Jensen catches the arm of a man trying to round the platform to get to Jared’s ass instead of his mouth. “Sorry man, no guys back there.”

“Oops, sorry dude,” the guy backs off quickly, and Y/N is impressed by how respectful the whole exchange is.

“Is that Jensen only territory?” Y/N questions, wiggling her brow.

“Yeah I don’t like other guys fuckin’ him,” Jensen explains. “But I like girls pegging him, it’s fun to humiliate him like that.” Just then Y/N spots a small woman climbing into a strap on with the help of her partner, who drops to her knees to suck on the dildo a little before covering it in lube from the bottle on the ground by the platform.

“No kidding,” Y/N whistles lowly, in awe as she watches the girl push the black silicone inside Jared, inch by inch. The way his hole is pulsing around the intrusion is almost hypnotic. She tries to picture what Alex would look like, on his hands and knees amongst all these people, everyone watching him get split open by some little girl with a big dick… everyone seeing him loving it, like Jared clearly is.

Y/N hears Jensen laugh beside her and she jumps a little, clearing her throat in embarrassment at being caught out staring at Jared’s asshole so blatantly.

“Sorry,” she clears her throat again and takes a sip of wine to hide behind her glass.

“It’s okay,” Jensen laughs again. “I wouldn’t let him do this if I didn’t want people to watch him.”

“Good point,” Y/N acknowledges, feeling a little better. “And um, out of curiosity,” Y/N pauses, trying to frame her question politely. “How did you get Jared to agree to the pegging?” Jensen raises an eyebrow at Y/N curiously. “You know, one Domme to another,” Y/N elaborates, so Jensen doesn’t think she’s trying to ask if she can peg Jared. That’s the furthest thing from her mind right now.

“No kidding?” Jensen chuckles, clearly impressed. “Well, I don’t know what you and Alex get up to normally, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch for Jared. He gets off on humiliation and I get off on humiliating him, and this fits that bill for both of us.” At that comment, Jensen looks back to Jared and smirks before reaching down to adjust himself subtly, and Y/N laughs. “What about it is calling to you?” Jensen asks, and Y/N has to pause to consider that before she can hit on the answer.

“It’s the one part of Alex I don’t think anyone’s touched. I mean he’s never mentioned it if he has done it before but I don’t think he has. The idea of marking him like that, of having something no one else can have from him…” Y/N trails off, letting her thoughts spiral as she feels the space between her legs heat up. When she adjusts her stance, she feels the slick brush of wet panties against her skin. Yes, she loves that idea. The thought of taking that last first, touching a part of Alex that no one else has touched. Being literally inside of him. Fucking him into submission would take on a whole new meaning.

“Yeah, that’s hot,” Jensen agrees and Y/N smiles dreamily. Now she just needs to figure out how to bring it up to Alex. “Hey,” Jensen taps her on the shoulder and points over Jared to the other side of the crowd, “you might not have to do as much convincing as you think.”

Standing across from them, Jared still on his hands and knees between them being fucked at both ends, is Alex. His eyes are fixed steadily on Jared, the rest of the world a mere blur around him and the object of his focus. His pupils are huge, in part due to the dark of the club but Y/N knows it’s also to do with desire. She watches his eyes dart back and forth and realises that he’s not just watching Jared, he’s watching the dildo that’s steadily fucking in and out of Jared’s ass, following its movements closely. He licks his lips and Y/N smiles. Jensen is right, she’s not going to have to convince him at all. He already wants this.

Part 2 - read ahead on WordPress here

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#spnkinkbingo #alex x reader #alex calvert #alex calvert x reader #sub!alex #domme!reader #dom!reader #smut #spn rpf #reader insert

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proudfreakmetarusonikku · 3 years

Text

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

#dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #tw abuse #tw mutilation #tw scars #tw bruises #tw death #tw child death #tw murder #tw child murder

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there.

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super.

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door.

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down.

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t d i d i f u c k i n g t e l l y o u , d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection.

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father.

okay that was funny.

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm.

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends?

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead.

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping.

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that.

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them.

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there.

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

#river thinks too hard #nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing 83 #dc #nightwing review #nightwing meta #dick grayson review #dick grayson meta #nightwing 83 review #nightwing 83 meta #dc review #dc meta

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leejeongz · 4 years

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nsfw a-z YOSHI (treasure)

🔅 for @ateezwhorez i hope you enjoy this honey 🥺❤️ dw the others should be written soon tooooo 🔅

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

he just feels cuddly and swoony. he’s in love with you, even more so than before even though he didn’t think that was possible. he loves to cuddle with you, just until you catch your breath again at least. he’s still still high from the whole experience, it’s the perfect time to be open and show your vulnerability even more. it’s less about the physical things he does for you, more about how you two deepen your relationship even further. he uses this time to have deep chats that slowly fade into more light hearted conversations before drifting off to sleep.

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

his eyes are his favourite thing about him i think. he likes how you can understand what he wants just from looking into them. they’re intense and needy, oppressive even. they’re infatuating. they’re his secret weapon to make you obey him without even realising what you’re doing.

on you, he likes your lips. he likes how they feel on his own lips, on his neck, around his dick, anywhere and everywhere. he also just thinks they look pretty and are the perfect colour naturally, actually something he noticed about you first which he found really attractive.

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

doesn’t like to make a mess at first… might even cum in a tissue the first few times because he thinks it’s more respectful.

but when he’s comfortable and such, he’d love to cum all over your hands after you finished him off with a handjob, he thinks it looks really hot and it’s enough to get him horny again hehe.

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

he often imagines how you'd look tied up in front of him. at his disposal. his fantasies are actually super kinky but he very rarely tells you them. he’d probably never tie you up to the extent that he dreams of doing because he doesn’t want to hurt you and he thinks of you as quite fragile 🥺

i wanna do another because my wild card was kinda short this time but he would l o v e to do a life drawing of you. like this isn’t even sexual but i don’t wanna get attacked if i write this on something that is fluff lol. it would be something that he’d treasure and something that he would be so proud of. to make it dirty since it’s a dirty secret 👀 he had a few intrusive thoughts while he drew you and found it super hard to stay hyperfocused on the drawing. if you tried to flirt with him while modelling, he’d just tell you to save it for later and that’s when he’d unleash the beast lol.

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

1 sexual partner with whom he was in a relationship with. he doesn’t think about it much and when he’s with you, he’s very much focused on you. one look at you and he’s forgotten about them already.

he knows what he’s doing for the most part, but sometimes he just wants to learn new things with you, together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he likes facing you: missionary and cowgirl, depending on what feels natural at the time. he likes bringing his face close to yours and hovering his lips over yours, occasionally touching with every thrust. enough to feel the other’s breath, but not enough to actually kiss.

once the pace has slowed a little, he’ll give you the kiss he’s been teasing you with for what feels like hours just so that you’ll appreciate it and enjoy it all the more.

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

he’s quite serious in the moment. he wants to make sure that you’re enjoying yourself and that he’s doing the absolute most to exceed any expectations each and every time.

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

he naturally doesn’t have much hair down there. he trims what he has and keeps it tidy since he feels it’s more intimate.

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

most of the time, he’s extremely romantic during sex. he’s very into slow and sensual sex that allows you two to bond physically and emotionally. it’s important to him that he understands your wants and needs as his partner and vice versa, making the whole experience super romantic.

but that’s not all the time. sometimes he just wants to rip off your clothes and have his way with you and that’s ✨totally fine✨

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i feel like he’s a typical laptop on desk, tissues besides him type of guy. he doesn’t do it too often, but when he does he has to fully commit because there is absolutely no way he’s stopping for anything/anyone that isn’t you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he’s not that kinky, he’s a vanilla man. i’ll just list some sexual things that he likes hehe

whispering- he likes when you whisper close to his ear and he likes doing it to you. the tingling down his neck is intoxicating, he can’t help but want to feel it again and again. what you say is important too. he likes receiving praise. saying things like “you make me so wet” or “you turn me on so much” makes him so happy, it’s a great way to drive him crazy.

ropes- not to an extreme level, just one rope to tie your hands together behind you or in front of you.

eye contact- he likes that his eyes intimidate you of course, but you pushing past that and maintaining eye contact makes him feel a rush to MAKE you feel intimidated. he wants you to feel like he’s in charge (even if he’s not) and if he can’t do that with his eyes, then it’s pretty much over for him, but he likes that fact that you stood up to him and it turns him tf on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he likes sex in bed or on the floor. anywhere that he or you can lie comfortably. he likes fucking you in hotel beds. although it’s not really that dirty, it is for you two.

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

gentle strokes- he likes when you trace his jawline or collarbones with your fingers, especially when you have long nails. he almost always returns the favour. he likes gently dragging his finger up and down your thigh before and between rubbing your pussy.

directness- tell him you’re turned on. tell him why you’re turned on. tell him how he turned you on. tell him how you feel and why you think he should feel the same way to. by the end of your talk, he’s gurenteed to feel the same way.

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

angry sex/sex during an argument.

he wants to settle things properly first. sex isn’t a solution nor is it forgiveness. the only way he can truly be intimate with you is when you’re both happy and when you’re both on the same page. “angry” sex like that is meaningless to him, the argument mustn’t have been important if you can just forget about it so why can’t you just talk it through?

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

he’s naturally a giver and oral (sex in general) is no exception. he wants you to be able to allow yourself to receive instead of forcing it upon you if you’re not used to it. he introduces his tongue slowly and always asks if what he’s doing is okay. even if you are used to it, he’s always gonna build up to it. he likes when you take the lead even when he’s eating you out, he likes when you’re giving him directions or your hands are in his hair, controlling him, because then he knows that what he’s doing is right.

not too fussed about receiving head. of course he would never say no, but he’s not one to ask for one just to finish without pleasuring you. he’s eyes are closed during the whole thing and and he lets out small, quiet cusses which he knows turn you on. also says nice stuff to you (when he can get the words out) while you’re sucking his dick because 🥺 he is nice.

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

as i mentioned before, he’s slow and sensual. he keeps the experience extremely romantic and memorable. it leaves you wanting more and he knows.

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

not his style. at all. he likes to draw out the details, take his time with you, ensure you've both been treated and pleasured sufficiently.

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

he’d only experiment with things that you’d tried before or things you’ve researched. he doesn’t wanna try anything new to the pair of you especially early on because he doesn’t wanna hurt you or leave a bad impression or anything like that. he’d never spring anything on you that you hadn’t discusssed either.

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

2-3 rounds, but it totally depends on you. how much you want, how much you turn him on after, how tired you are etc.

he usually lasts for around 20 mins but needs like a 10 second breather sometimes

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

i don’t see him owning any toys but i don’t think he’d be opposed to using them. if you wanted to use them, great fantastic he’d get straight to it. he would definitely like to try them for himself at least once too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn’t tease you much, because he’d rather just do it? but i guess if you’d consider extended foreplay to the point where you have to beg him to fuck you as teasing then he’s the master lol. oH and also doesn’t just kiss you during sex, he definitely teases with those.

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

tries to hold his moans and cusses back but fails lol. they’re quiet and soft but you can still hear them. he gets kind of shy about them after sex too and he doesn’t really like it when you bring it up.

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

“take it off” he orders, looking directly at your chest. you remove your tshirt on command and throw it to the ground. he walks towards you, backing you into the wall behind you. it was a harsh and sudden coldness on your back, but there was something even colder in front of you. his eyes glared at you, which subconsciously made you remove your bra.

“so fucking beautiful” he growled while taking one of your breasts in his hand. it wasn’t long before he started with his tongue. he circled your nipple with his tongue while he played with the other one in his hand. your head automatically fell back, luckily resting on the wall. he slowly began to flick your nipple with his tongue before gently kissing it and moving to the other one.

your hand found its way to his hair, grabbing it and pulling it a little. you occasionally let out small gasps, which almost always made him look up at you and smile.

after a few minutes, he stood up once again, head buried in your neck as he whispered what he wanted you to do for him next.

“please, make me cum. you've turned me on so much tonight.”

that’s when it all started making sense. you’d been bowling that night with friends. this involved a lot of bending over, a lot of casual skin touches when neither of you were bowling and a LOT of whispering closely in his ear since the music was so loud. you knew he liked it when you whispered, but you didn’t know even in that context that it would send shivers down your spine. you stored that info, maybe you’d use that against him one day after he’d been teasing you.

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

i think average, with just a little under average thickness. i’m not sure if you can ever call a dick pretty but i feel with yoshi it would be justified, especially when it’s hard.

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

i’m pretty sure it varies depending on your type of relationship. if you are a romantic partner, 3-4 times a week. if it’s just a fling, once maybe twice a week at most. he has a naturally high sex drive, but he’s less likely to take his time with someone he has no feelings for meaning he doesn’t really crave sex as often as he would with someone he’s romantically involved with.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as i mentioned above, yoshi wants to talk to you and connect with you even further after sex. he falls asleep when he’s ready to fall asleep, which is after he’s learnt something about you that makes his heart flutter, that he can tease you about later on.

#yoshi #yoshi smut #yoshi imagine #treasure #treasure smut #treasure imagines #smut

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a-singleboat · 4 years

Text

LA Girl

Word Count: 3.5k

Request: Since requests are open, can I ask for one where Shayne Topp has secretly been dating an Alt girl (piercings, coloured hair, tattoos ect) for months and she has anxiety and is nervous about meeting the squad as she feels like they’re gonna judge her for being so different to him so Shayne introduces her to Damien first alone and Damien automatically likes her and they click really well so she tells him she’s ready to go public and meet the rest of the squad and they all accept her?❤️ - Anon

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It took me a while to conceptualize it at first but then the rest came pretty naturally :D

Warning(s): Mentions of oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mentions of sex, self deprecating thoughts

You never really liked living in Los Angeles. Most days it was too bright and there were too many people, too many tourists. Yeah, you hated living here. That is, of course, until you met Shayne.

At first, it appeared that you and Shayne were as different as night and day. Literally. He was the perfect LA Boy, with his blonde hair and his trim physique, always looking like the sun while you… you liked your dark colors and vibrant hairstyles, not to mention your multitudes of piercings and tattoos. In the mornings that you did spend together, Shayne liked to trace them with the tips of his fingers before the day started.

These past few months with Shayne have been euphoric, for lack of better words. It seemed you were forever stuck in your honeymoon phase together but even you knew that it couldn’t last forever. The first fight you’d have, the first disagreement, stemmed from your own insecurities.

As you’d mentioned before, Shayne looked like the perfect LA Boy, as did the rest of his friends. He didn’t stand out while walking the length of Hollywood Boulevard and he certainly didn’t catch any of the police officer’s eyes when he went to the bank.

Which is why you weren’t so sure you wanted to meet them, his friends that is. You were sure that they would judge you for your alternative fashion choices, just like everyone else did.

“They’re not like that,” Shayne tried to convince you for the umpteenth time that day. You had just finished washing the dishes, using your day off to catch up on chores you’d neglected during the week. Shayne was supposed to be completing his coursework for his degree but instead he’d decided to pester you with this topic once more.

“My friends are super supportive and they just want to meet you,” he tried again. “And if they say anything then they’re not really my friends. They’ll love you, I promise.”

You picked up the laundry basket full of clean clothes from beside your front door, dumping the basket out on the couch. You cleared off a small section on the coffee table so that you could fold your laundry.

“I’m just worried,” you confessed, folding a cropped shirt in half twice before dropping it into the laundry basket. “You say that they’re supportive and that they just want to meet me but you also just said, ‘if they say anything.’ Shayne, if I really didn’t have a reason to worry, you wouldn’t have thrown that in there.”

“Okay, that was my bad,” he admitted, “but I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about, they’ll all love you.”

You gave him a weary look, folding a pair of black cargo pants over your arm. A few weeks ago, you’d met Shayne’s parents and while they were two of the most loving and welcoming people you had met, you could still see the discomfort and unease hidden behind their eyes. They expected someone different, with less tattoos and piercings most likely. They probably weren’t expecting their blonde baby boy to be with a neon-pink-haired twenty-something with daddy issues galore.

“Okay, how about this,” Shayne took the pants from your hands, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. “I’ll invite Damien over to mine for dinner tonight as a tester. If everything goes well with him, then maybe you’ll consider meeting everyone else?”

You took up your cargo pants once more, settling them in the laundry basket with the rest of your folded clothing. You had less than half the original pile left, the rest of the clothing being mainly bras and socks that still needed to be sorted.

“Okay,” you gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

As it turns out, completely forgetting that Damien was due to arrive any moment at Shayne’s apartment was the worst thing that could happen. His best friend’s first impression of you would forever be this: you on your knees with Shayne’s dick halfway down your throat while you gave him a before-dinner blowjob.

Embarrassment burned through your entire being as Damien realized what was happening before he closed the front door and called out, “I’m so sorry, I should have knocked!”

You looked up at Shayne who couldn’t decide between being mortified and being smug. It took everything within your power not to punch him in the dick, considering it was literally right there in front of you.

“Go… take care of yourself,” you awkwardly chuckled, patting his thigh lightly. “I’ll let your friend in and hopefully not die from embarrassment on the way.”

Shayne scrambled up off the couch and into his bathroom while you opened the container of mints you kept under the coffee table for these types of instances. Not that you and Shayne expected people to walk in during any of that normally. You washed your hands at the sink while you chewed the mint, giving yourself a moment to breathe before even thinking about opening the door.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you opened the door for Damien, unable to meet his eye as you let him in.

“Uh, sorry you had to see any of that…” You closed the door behind him, double checking the lock to make sure it was still working. “We don’t usually do it out here, um--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Damien tried to save the night. “It’s not like I haven’t seen Shayne’s dick before--I mean--Not in the way you’d think--”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, still thinking of a way to dig your way out of the hole you’d awkwardly made. When Shayne was telling you about Damien, he did mention that he was possibly the most awkward of his friends which made him the perfect ‘test monkey’ for the night.

“I should’ve knocked,” Damien settled, an apologetic look on his face. “Shayne gave me a key a while back and I usually just let myself in but that’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Shayne had also mentioned Damien was the most polite out of them all. Not that the others weren’t polite, because they were. He had meant it in the way that Damien would apologize for existing if he could (which he has done before).

“It’s okay, really. Though, we might have to tweak the story of how we met for future conversations.” You made your way into Shayne’s little kitchenette. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Damien said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the high table. You grimaced at the couch, making a mental note to grab some disinfectant once Shayne came out of the bathroom. “And yeah, we’ll just leave that part out for future retellings.”

You pulled a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the Brita. You added a few ice cubes as well, smiling as they clinked against the sides of the glass.

“So, how did you and Shayne meet?” Damien asked, thanking you for the glass. You took up the other seat, crossing your right leg over your left.

“At the tattoo shop I work at, actually,” you played with the end of your belt, twisting the fabric over your hand until it covered your knuckles. For this meeting, you’d decided to tone down your wardrobe--less chains and more softer fabrics. Your pleated skirt had been exchanged for the black cargo pants you’d folded earlier. That paired with a simple side release buckle belt and a structured white top for contrast, this was probably the most “tame” you’ve dressed in a while.

“He came in with another friend of his, Paul, and sat with him while I worked on a piece for his sleeve. After that, I gave him my number in case he ever wanted to get a tattoo himself and the rest is history.”

“I can’t believe Paul technically met you before I did,” Damien said in disbelief. You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on which meant your boyfriend would be joining the two of you soon.

The awkwardness between you and Damien had faded slightly but you could still feel the tension in the air. Shayne opened the bathroom door and you looked over your shoulder to watch as your no longer disheveled boyfriend entered the room. He’d changed his pants, which was fair, and he was holding the disinfectant in hand as if he’d read your mind.

You hopped off the seat and took it from him, spraying down the entire couch while he greeted his friend.

“Really sorry you had to see that,” Shayne said, laughing as they clapped their hands together. “We would have disinfected the couch either way, just so you know.”

Damien laughed as you finished cleaning off the couch, setting the disinfectant on the coffee table. You couldn’t be bothered with putting it away in the bathroom right now.

“Well, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Shayne pulled on your arm until you settled into his side. You gave a small wave. “And she made Italian for dinner so unless you now want nothing to do with me, we can start eating now.”

“Sounds great.”

Once you actually got over the initial awkwardness, your night actually turned out enjoyable. Damien was extremely funny and nice, just like Shayne had said. He’d even asked about your job and your own tattoos, expressing his own thoughts about getting one or two done himself.

“If you get it done at my shop, I can get you a discount,” you offered, taking a sip of your water. “Friends and family get twenty-percent off, though that doesn’t include the tip.”

“Really?” Damien asked. He looked shocked that you’d even offer to tattoo him, let alone provide him with a discount.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Just let me know when and we can set up an appointment.”

“That’d be amazing.”

The three of you were sitting on the couch now, you and Shayne sitting on the side closest to the window while Damien was on the other end. His body was angled toward the two of you as “The Office” played quietly in the background.

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around more?” Damien asked. “Shayne always comes alone to out-of-work get-togethers and Courtney’s been pestering him to bring you around for some time now.”

“She has?” you looked up at Shayne, asking if that was true.

He nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent on getting you to meet my friends? They all want to meet you.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re all he talks about,” Damien chuckled. “I swear, every other word from his mouth is something about you. Whether it’s wondering what you’re doing to wondering how you’re doing, it’s always about you.”

You reached up and patted Shayne’s cheek lightly. “Aw, babe. You think about me? How embarrassing.”

He swatted your hand away, chuckling as you giggled at the shared joke between you.

You talked for a little longer, sharing stories between the three of you before Damien caught sight of the time.

“I should get going,” he said, standing up. You got up as well, giving him a hug before letting him and Shayne say their goodbyes. Once Damien had left the apartment completely, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you shoulder relaxing. While Shayne was an extrovert, you found yourself physically and mentally drained from hanging out with just one person.

The entire experience was new for you. Since you’d started dressing how you wanted to dress and expressing yourself accordingly, there have been people less than willing to be nice to you or show you any sort of kindness. It was mostly linked to the fact that people thought that if you wore black, put on lots of make-up, had piercings, and had tattoos you were a bad person and an even worse role model. Not only was that hurtful, it made you very self conscious about meeting new people.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Shayne said, pulling you in for a hug. You sunk into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso.

“It wasn’t terrible,” you replied, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You turned your head sideways so that you could hear his steady heartbeat, allowing it to lull you into what felt like security. “Though, the beginning could have been better.”

“We’re never speaking of the beginning again.”

“Agreed.”

Shayne started to sway with you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting go. “So how do you feel about going to brunch with the rest of my friends on Saturday?”

After meeting Damien, your anxiety had subsided. No longer did you think you would be judged for the type of clothes you chose to wear but this time the anxiety of meeting so many people at once surfaced. When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you worried.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just…” If you said what you were thinking out loud, you knew you were going to sound ridiculous. “It’s nothing.”

“No, really,” he frowned, “tell me what’s wrong. Bottling it all up inside won’t work this time.”

You sighed. “I--Shayne, you’re perfect, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t say perfect but…” You dug your fingers into his side, causing him to laugh. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the perfect LA Boy and I look nothing like the perfect LA Girl that you so clearly deserve. I mean, Damien was nice but that’s literally just how he is. What if your other friends think I’m, like, a terrible influence on you with my millions of piercings and tattoos and attention-seeking hair and--”

He cut you off with his lips, arms pulling you in impossibly closer and effectively stopping you in your tracks.

When he pulled away, you fixed him with a playful glare. “Shayne Robert Topp, you did not just pull a movie cliche on me while I was airing out all my concerns to you. Apologize right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But, Y/n, you don’t need to be the ‘perfect LA Girl,’ you’re perfect the way you are. That doesn’t mean I’d like you any less if you decided that you did want to become whatever you think is the ‘perfect LA Girl’ because I’d like you no matter what. I just like you.”

“Even if I went bald?”

“Even if you went bald.”

You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again: you fucking loved this man.

“I love you,” you said, pouting your bottom lip. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him in adoration.

“I love you, too.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were ready to meet the rest of Shayne’s friends. Most of your anxieties had been successfully quelled, though they still lingered. You had gotten your hair done again the day before, meaning you were now sporting a bright neon green. You matched your makeup to your vibrant new dye and picked out a heat-appropriate outfit.

“Are you ready to go?” Shayne called from your front room, interrupting your self-admiration session. You gave yourself one last look in the full-length mirror in your room before slipping on the pair of DnD dice filled platform shoes that added at least three inches to your height.

“Ready.” You stopped to pose in the doorway, the bottom of your shirt riding up as you leaned against the wooded frame. “Baby, how do I look?”

Shayne looked up from his phone, his jaw dropping the second he laid eyes on you. A blush settled nicely onto your cheeks, as you grew shy under his gaze. He dropped his phone on the couch and crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch, a giddy feeling spreading through your being as your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer.

“You look amazing,” he breathed, pulling away. You giggled as you realized that a bit of your black lipstick had transferred off onto his lip. You reached up and wiped his top lip with your thumb.

“Thank you,” you giggled, rubbing your fingers together until the black rubbed off. “What time did your friends say?”

“We’ve got some time…” his fingers crept up your side, dipping under your shirt and tracing the band of your bra with his thumb.

You smacked his hand. “Naughty boy.”

You didn’t end up leaving the apartment for another thirty minutes, though you couldn’t complain about it. Still, you ended up making it on time. From where you’d parked on the street, you could see Shayne’s friends spread across two connected tables, laughing on the patio.

Damien was the first to spot the two of you, standing from his seat and calling out, inviting you into the sectioned off area. You took up residence in the seat closest to him, leaving Shayne to take the seat on your other side.

“You guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Shayne introduced you to everyone at the table. There were nine other people sitting at the table. You recognized maybe six of them from the videos you’d watched, while the other three were most likely spouses (considering how close they were sitting next to who you assumed were their significant others).

“Hi, Y/n!” the blonde sitting next to Damien greeted. You recognized her immediately as the inspiration for Shayne’s alter ego, Courtney Freaking Miller.

You smiled politely as everyone went around introducing themselves to you, from Olivia and Sam to Sarah and Claudio, you didn’t feel out of place for one second. The hand that had been tightly intertwined with Shayne’s relaxed as you grew even more comfortable around his friends.

“So Damien told us that you worked at a tattoo parlor,” Ian inquired, propping an arm up on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. On his left sat Anthony, who also looked interested in your answer. “And Shayne did, too, I guess. Did Damien tell you that your boyfriend literally never stops talking about you?”

You giggled. “He did tell me that and I find it adorable that he can’t go a second without missing me.”

“I wish Peter was like that,” the purple haired woman, Mari, complained playfully, nudging her husband’s side. Peter just laughed it off, casually putting his arm around her shoulders.

“You do not,” he refuted. “You get flustered when I even mention you to my friends.”

She huffed, though there were no traces of anger to be found on her face. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Courtney put her menu down, reaching over to grab her glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. Y/n, yours are so pretty.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you! I actually did most of them myself.”

Courtney’s eyes widened at that. She reached over Damien, who had leaned far back enough in his seat to allow her to do that. She motioned at your sleeve, specifically at the roses that decorated the back of your forearm. They were cliche and most likely overused but you just thought they were pretty.

“Those? You did those yourself?”

“Yeah!” you said enthusiastically. You offered your arm out, allowing her to take a closer look. “My friend, Alyssa, designed it for me and as soon as I was trusted to wield an actual tattoo gun, it was the first piece I worked on.”

“That’s insanely cool,” she gushed, tracing a finger over one of the larger roses. “And you’re insanely talented.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, Courtney was originally your biggest concern. Most of the insecurity had sprouted from the constant online presence of the ship Shourtney, which Shayne assured you was nothing but a meme. And you trusted your boyfriend, and though you didn’t know Courtney, you trusted her too. But sitting here, at the same brunch spot as her, sharing the same meal as she was, all your fears washed away.

It was incredibly difficult not to like her. Not only was she extremely nice, but insanely pretty as well. Though you had to accredit most of your confidence to Shayne, who only had eyes for you despite everything else. You’d thought that you would find yourself vying for his attention in front of everyone but not once did he leave you to flounder. He was always there, ready to step into any conversation you were having.

When you’d all finished your meals and began to wrap up the late morning, you couldn’t help but show your gratitude for your amazing boyfriend by pressing a huge kiss to his cheek, whispering that you loved him while everyone had grown content in their own little conversations with each other.

Content, he grinned and his arm around your shoulders tightened just that much more as he used his free hand to tilt your face up towards him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, keeping it short and sweet, before pulling away and whispering, “I love you, too.”

TAGLIST

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@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000 @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch

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thewitchofbooks · 4 years

Note

Konnichiwa~ How about...family headcanons for ikepri suitors???? You can chose whoever you want~ thank you! 🤝🤝

Hello there~You didn't ask for someone specific, but I didn't want to come to conclusions, so I wrote for everyone, haha. I hope you like it! Also, thank you for the request!

Game: Ikemen Prince

Type: Headcanons

Characters : All the characters

Warnings : Kind of spoilery, I hope it is okay, lol,my English,the characters might be ooc.

~Chevalier Michel

🔹Chevalier becomes a bit more gentle when you two start your own family.

🔹Sometimes, you catch him smiling at your children and playing with their chubby cheeks. They always giggle and hug him.

🔹He tries to tell them how much he loves them, more with his actions and not so much with words. But they know he absolutely loves them.

🔹"I love you too." You heard him once say. You peeked inside the library and saw your handsome husband kneeling in front of the youngest, who was crying. The moment your kid heard that, he/she was grinning as he/she threw himself/herself at Chevalier.

🔹Then Cheva walked out (after a lot of awkward but comfortable cuddles on a small chair.

"Chevalier?" You said his name.

"What?" You smiled and asked.

"What did you say before?" Chevalier frowned.

"Nothing that concerns you, dummy." You laughed as he walked away.

🔹Once, you went to wake Chevalier in your shared bedroom, only to see a large lump and a lot of smaller ones, covered with the fluffy blankets.

🔹Now you have to wake them all up, but you gave up a few hours later and slept with them.

🔹Chevalier is very clever and very strong so, sometimes, he teaches his children.

🔹Every night, he reads them to sleep.

~Clavis Lelouch

🔹You were in for it when you agreed to start a family with Clavis.

🔹If your children didn't look like him, they surely took his character.

🔹Clavis will be coming back after work and instead of being greeted with deep bows from the maids, he gets greeted with buckets full of sparkly confetti and glitter.

🔹He is very proud of them but he doesn't want you to have a lot of headaches.

🔹Clavis always makes time to play with his children. He is being sweet and he helps them however he can.

🔹He teaches them to not be too open with suspicious people and if they get in trouble, he shows them how to get out of it.

🔹He let's them keep pets. And if you're allergic to furr, it's okay! None of these pets have furr at all! They can be from small, little snakes to big birds and fishes.

🔹He is trying his best.

🔹Your children love him and they show it all the time.

🔹Clavis is getting attacked with love, which he wasn't used to. He was completely shocked. In the end, he got used to it and he adores it.

🔹There will be days where you'll wake up with sketches on your face and your husband laughing with your children.

🔹They are very adorable when they're sleeping together, Clavis arm wrapped protectively around them (and you, of course).

~Leon Dompteur

🔹Leon is a very loving man. You and the family you both made are his oxygen. You're the most important reason to keep loving and enjoying life at the fullest.

🔹There are days where Leon has finished with training his army, so he takes you and your children for rides with his horse.

🔹You ride in the city and go straight to the food section.

🔹He spoils his children very much, you have to stop him. Do they like sweets? He'll walk through hell to buy cakes, chocolates and everything else. (or ask Yves to bake fresh cakes, lolol). Do they not like sweets? What are those? He never heard of them. (He still eats them.)

🔹Leon always tries to find new activities, just to make sure his children are having fun in the palace, or outside.

🔹Everytime they do something troublesome, like breaking glasses and plates with their father, they try to play innocent.

🔹If they have nightmares, Leon will help them through them.

🔹He always tells them that they don't have to 'stop seeing nightmares' to be brave. Braveness is when they search for someone they trust, because opening up is harder than keeping it inside.

"But dad, when I'm sad and I don't tell anyone... am I weak?" Leon wiped his kid's tears away.

"No. You are strong. But if it is something too hard to keep to yourself, you can share it with anyone you trust."

~Yves Kloss

🔹Yves is a big tsundere and he is shy. So, when you asked for a family, he blushed and tried to deny it. It wasn't working.

🔹His eyes light up everytime he looks at his children. They're the most adorable children in the world. And his world is made with you and them. You are all the matters.

🔹After his royal duties, he bakes cakes, the children are decorating and you have to watch the chaos.

🔹Before having a family of his own, he found it bothersome and annoying to have things all over the place, but he got used to it.

🔹He is sneaking kittens in the palace for them to feed and pet. Where did those stray kittens you show on the street when you were shopping? Yves doesn't have any idea what are you talking about, but you now have to sleep in your shared bed with foolur freshly bathed kittens.

"Are you sure you don't know them? They look comfortable around you." You said, your brow raised. The kittens were sleeping on him. He blushed and glared at you.

"Hmph, I don't know them! No, lay down Snowflake, we aren't fighting with your mom." He stroked the white furr and the small animal fell asleep again.

🔹He gives to the children gorgeous clothes and he brushed their hair, putting it in the best hairstyles.

🔹At night, he praises them for being kind.

~Luke Randolph

🔹Luke grew up in a bad environment, so he makes sure that his children won't ever have to grow up like that. He could give his life in a blink of the eye to do that.

🔹He doesn't spoil his children too much, because he wants them to be down to earth. For him, his role as a prince is not important, but his family is.

🔹The children are tripping on his long legs while they're playing outside and he sleeps.

🔹Luke is a Disney Prince. That means all the animals love him. He gently cradles small fragile butterflies, or cute little birds to show them.

🔹Luke is taking them for walks in the forest. As the time goes on, more and more animals are attached to their gentleness.

🔹If anyone dares mess with his children, they are in for a big surprise. Luke will take them down and fight them until he is sure that they won't bother them again. He won't kill someone though, only hurt them enough for his family's safety.

~Sariel Noir

🔹Sariel is a very busy man and you know that. So when he asked you if you wanted a family, you were super exited.

🔹By the time your children are born, their bedrooms and everything inside is already ready to use.

🔹Sariel seems pretty strict, but he has a soft spot for your family.

🔹He helps them study all their lessons. If they don't understand something, he'll go out of his way to search it up and give them all the information he gathered.

🔹After babysitting the Princes, he takes a few books filled with fairytales and reads to them in his soothing voice.

🔹Sariel loves his kids dearly and he protects them from harm, even if it means being in the shadows.

🔹The children love to hug him and cling on him, while he is giving lectures to the Princes. (translation = scolding Clavis.)

🔹Sariel was lonely before, so he won't let anyone hurt his family. He'll let his people "clean up the dirt".

🔹Sariel kind of spoils his children, and you, because he is weak for your eyes and pouts.

~Licht Klein

🔹Licht seems distant from afar, but his family gets to see his true colours.

🔹Whenever his children are playing or doing something else (that isn't harmful), he smiles softly, his red eyes fill with love and adoration.

🔹He is scared that someday, they'll have the same bad luck his brother and he had.

🔹That's why he always keeps an eye on them.

🔹Licht was never troubled if he died, until one of his children told him he/she loved him so much, that he/she will make him the proudest dad in the world.

🔹Licht's eyes are wide open and he thinks about his choices again. He'll have to live in order to help them grow up.

🔹He is very supportive with their choices, unless it's something bad for them.

🔹At nights, he sings to put them to sleep, his smooth voice calming the down completely.

🔹You can find the m all sleeping together on a chair.

🔹He won't admit it, but he loves sweet food and his children are no better.

~Nokto Klein

🔹Nokto became a whole new person when you had your children.

🔹He still stayed playful for them.

🔹Nokto is happy when they are happy, he is sad when they're sad...

🔹He despises it when they hurt themselves, physically or not.

🔹He is also scared like Licht. He doesn't want then away from each other. He wants for them to be happy.

🔹Before they were born, he was scared that he wouldn't turn out to be a good father. He was scared of rejection.

🔹He lived with the same fear, until his children run up to him and hugged his legs.

"Dad! Thank you for taking us with you! We love you so much!" They said happily.

🔹Nokto.exe has stopped working.

"I love you too." He quickly hugs them to his chest, trying to keep the tears in.

🔹He is teasing them (in a good way) till there's no tomorrow. (with uncle Clavis).

🔹The children, with your help are making presents for him. He gets so happy!

🔹His past self still haunts him, but he doesn't let himself fall. He is strong.

🔹Nokto doesn't take risky jobs anymore. He takes better care of himself for the sake of his family.

🔹When stormy nights fall, his strong arms are ready to close you and the kids to his heart. It's his promise of never letting go, even in the scariest times.

~Rio Ortiz

🔹Rion is as exited as a puppy!

🔹Right after they are born, they are in his arms, cuddled up to him.

🔹Rio travels with them in other places (for personal reasons). He shows them all around and does anything they ask.

🔹Are they hungry? A whole buffet is made for them.

🔹They have his heart and mind. Sometimes, he is scared they'll think he is annoying, but they always tell him how much they love him.

🔹He takes time off his work and plays with them in the garden or in their Rooms.

🔹He always hear their problems. If he can help it, he'll tskr care of them.

🔹Rio won't let others hurt his children. If someone tries and he is in front of the scene, his hand might slip and he the other guys might get hurt.

🔹At night, he cuddle with them and they all wait for you to read them to sleep.

~Jin Grandet

🔹Jin was feeling bashful. He really wanted a family with the most beautiful person in the world (you).

🔹Like almost everyone else, his character changed a bit. He spends more time with his family.

🔹His children like to climb on his back and go fit walks. His back hurts, but are they happy? They it's worth it. End of the conversation.

🔹There are days where he is too tired so he takes food and drinks (not alcohol) and sets them on the king sized bed with you and the kids.

🔹He is manipulating Yves to cook (lol), but Yves does it for his nephew(s) /niece(s).

🔹If the children are terrified from the nightmares or other scary things outside of the windows, they'll run to him, crushing him on your bed.

🔹When morning comes, they are all over the bed, sleeping soundly.

THE END~

AN: I'm writing from my phone now, but I'll fix it when I'll get my laptop!

NadiaSilver~

Also, fun fact: When I first started the game, I fell asleep while reading/listening the prologue, because Sariel and Chevalier were speaking! I love their voices and I want them to put me to sleep every night, lololol.

#Ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #fanfiction #chevalier Michel #Clavis Lelouch #Sariel noir #Leon dompteur #Rio Ortiz #Yves kloss #Nokto Klein #licht Klein #Jin grandet #Luke Randolph #ikepri

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